There is not one moment of clarity that instantly falls upon the eyes or mind. There is not one instant one experiences freedom.
It happens bit by bit.
Awakening in the darkness,
in the suffering,
in the discomfort,
and in the dis-ease.
We begin to know it, like a dear and cherished friend.
There is a gradual unclogging, unfogging, and unraveling – that is the mystery of change.
That is the beauty of opening oneself to the potentiality of growing into something different.
Bit by bit, moment by moment, like pieces of a puzzle, thoughts and feeling, sensation and experiences, twist and turn and gradually find their way to fit together.
In that coming together, there is a sense of harmony and ease, perhaps even joy, that surfaces on the horizon,
not in overcoming the obstacles,
not in seeing the finished product,
but in feeling the creative process and drinking it all in.
An enthusiastic and naĂŻve seagull swoops down on a tiny fish sparkling near the surface of the softly rippling waves.
It eagerly dives in and grasps the silvery treasure.
A simple maneuver performed hundreds of times in the past turns immediately to struggle as a hook and clear line at the end of a poll entangle the unsuspecting.
Soon the sky fills as the silent call for help produces a furry of circling, screeching, and diving.
All are now hovering, pensively and purposefully.
A shirt comes off to cover the bird as nimble hands work to untangle the lines.
The air is filled with insecurity and uncertainty.
A cloud of judgment forms.
It is the bird’s fault.
It is the fisherman’s fault.
They are saving the bird.
They are hurting the bird.
All is a swirl in the energetic exchange of emotions and actions.
Soon there is a release, a cutting free, a letting go.
And none are left untarnished.
There is not an immediate sense of relief as one might expect.
Heads hang heavy, perhaps even filled with shame and remorse.
The drenched shirt, the cut line, the disheveled demeanor of all reminds us that even when the urgent rescue and the struggle dissolve,
There is a residual current of pain that must be allowed to dissipate and transform.
Even in the shortest-lived trauma, there must be a space following for grief, loss, and healing.
No participant in this event is untouched.
Only those who feel fully, surrender to the flood of intense sensations, and tend the wounds of the entanglement will be fully free.
A period of rest and repair is needed for all.
Shaking,
pruning,
pacing,
sounding,
slowing down,
and reconnecting
to the earth,
the water,
and the air,
each participant is offered a blanket of grace, compassion, and love to wrap around them in order for the judgment, fear, shame, and pain to subside.
In due time, as they forgive one another, they once more wander the edge of the sea, seeking nourishment, seeing differently, and feeling a part of something greater,
a net of seemingly invisible lines meant to connect and secure us, and sometimes harrowingly entangling,
Within this great time of change, unsettledness, and loss, comes an urge for clarity, knowing, and security.
It becomes more and more elusive with grander and grander efforts to find a connection, a grounding, a holding on place.
Clawing furiously at the earth, desperate for a sense of being held, folding so close to its surface, the breath and body become lost, unable to find the satisfaction of security.
Perhaps the rooting down into connection is not what is needed.
Rather, the courage to rise up to it,
To release the bonds and tethers that built an illusion of having a home.
To become the ether,
The soft chord that aligns with the core of our being,
That has no home because it is our home,
That needs no latching on as its connection is found in the releasing, trusting, and cutting of cords.
The ether holds timeless wisdom in quietude,
A space where the walls of understanding, reason, and storytelling are replaced with wide expanses of clarity, simplicity, ease, and knowing.
Ethereal connections need no validation or roots but remind us of unity in the unknown.
It is time not to hunker down into the ordinary, the familiar, and the history, but to embark on a journey of discovery, exploration, and love within,
Pain provides an opportunity to turn towards lessons and lessening or to adopt as a wounded state as a part of identity.
For sure, the wave of wound on the heels of pain can feel logical and essential. It may perhaps be needed in order to make a choice. The wound from pain can be like a riptide that is easy to get caught in…that can provide great struggle and even the potential to drown.
However, to ride that current, perhaps even begin to understand it’s make up and direction and feel more fully into it just briefly, produces the wisdom to release the struggle and be propelled to its edges by its own force.
Without resistance, the riptide has nothing to hold onto and pushes away what it cannot drag down.
In due time, the churning and swirling when met with curiosity, tenderness, and patience has the capacity to deliver an object once more to calm and safe waters.
It is in returning to this calm space where wisdom is found…the pain lessened and the wound converted to a lesson.
While woundnedness perpetuates a perceived lack of safety imposed externally, wisdom reinforces the notion that safety is created in the choice to experience but not drown in the wound.
While ideally the sea of life hopes to offer smooth, calm, clear waters, it also aspires to shape future landscapes and to never remain the same, retaining unintentially in its purpose the potential for pain.
And in this way, there lie endless opportunities to ride or resist, to learn or succumb.
Monday Mindfulness 