We are connectors… the shifts and moves below the water’s surface that produce the current.
When we move with ease and grace, the currents meander and flow.
Tension, gripping, and resistance make the waters turbulent and difficult to maneuver.
We can choose the experience we give to those who swim in our waters…knowing that they are counting on us to usher them safely to the edge and leave them feeling nourished and refreshed from our connection.
today I am just gonna be happy.
it takes too much effort to be anything else.
When I start with the exhale, I start with a release, emptying space so that I can fill it just so. Filling becomes not as urgent when I am no longer grasping for the next inhale but expanding intensionally to receive it.
Emptying allows the filling to happen with less effort, with the simple purpose of fulfillment as opposed to rescuing or catapulting me.
With intensional emptying comes graceful, careful filling.
For it is not the act of filling that carries me on as much as the emptying which provides the space and focus for me to move on more fully.
Slowing down and extending the process of releasing creates more emptiness, more space for nothing that in return leaves me more ready to fill with everything.
When passion and common sense come together they bring with them a whimsical assuredness. Their rhythmic dance is reverent and focused, yet meandering and joyful. Together they carry me forward with comfort and ease.
With a balance of passion and common sense, life seems quite doable…anything seems doable…everything is doable when we walk this path together.
There comes a time and space where each of us longs to curl up in a snuggly blanket, to feel the pressure on our skin, the cocoon of warmth and connection. This need for contact, pressure, and restriction is also the driver for the invitation of struggle, suffering, and conflict into our lives.
With difficulty pressing in upon me, I will always still find the same comfort and ease on the inside if I allow it.
It is simply a matter of the material of the wrap and the lens with which I see it that determines whether I feel it as nurturing or limiting.
The wrap is just a reminder to feel what’s on the inside – to know the true essence of me, undefined by the fabric of my experience.
I am meant to evolve, to ever branch and expand.
So why is it that change is so hard?
When change feels like it is coming for good, I embrace it. When change feels put upon me, I resist and shut down.
Fear may be coloring my relationship with change. Fear creates the illusion of pain, loss, or failure tied to change.
Take away the anticipation of loss or failure and change is just what comes next.
Change taken moment by moment, even when not chosen, is simply what comes next.
Serenely, attentively, and lovingly I focus on cradling the dangling roots of a small plant as they uncoil themselves from the snug inside edges of their familiar small pot. I invite the plant to settle into a new place to live. Grace, peace, and fluidity guide the roots gently into their new home. The plant is ready to grow as this new pot offers room to branch out.
The transplanting has nonetheless been stressful and will require new resources and support from the inside and out in order for this little plant to thrive.
Planting complete, I hop up quickly, losing focus and in a furry of thoughts and feelings I upheave my own roots, tumbling down onto the ground right next to my newly potted plant.
I have lost my footing, my roots now tangled and exposed…some broken, others barely hanging on. The damage rocks my whole being.
And in that very moment, a little voice inside me says, “Be kind, attentive and serenely focused. Lovingly tuck those roots into new, unfamiliar soil and invite them to take hold, to uncoil in a new direction.”
Not without pain, focused effort, and belief that I will be stronger, I expand my roots. I find resources on the inside and outside to grow deep. I settle into a new space of being and in this nurturing of my roots, I realize an enhanced capacity to flower, bear fruit, and thrive in a way previously unattainable.
Every tumble, every root exposed is an opportunity to uncoil and lovingly replant, to be bigger and stronger than I ever was before.
