Poor behavior is a sign of a loss of agency.
Lashing out at the circumstances around me instead of diving into the power within me.
There within I always have the capacity to choose, to “re-cognize” and bring back into my mental awareness my own tools of agency. I don’t need someone else to pick me up, to defend me, or clear the way for me.
I can feel confident, strong, and happy through my own decision making.
Whatever the story, with agency I can produce my own powerful, beautiful ending.
In the darkness, fear and anger deepen their grip on me. Bumping up against ideals, opinions, and stories that I have formed, with urgency I am compelled to avenge imbalances and inequities. I dash in to sweep up the broken pieces of what I perceive as attacks against me and struggle surrounding me. I am driven to defend principles that through my ego’s eye define me.
This posture that I take implies superiority and gives way to judgment. In my rush to right the wrongs, I become the being I so justly argue against. Resentment bubbles up and my ego says, “they are not worthy…they should be punished…they do not belong…silence them…shun them.”
And then my heart whispers, “wait…they too are suffering.” Those opinions I defend and just as importantly those I oppose are here to guide, test, and inform me.
To release my struggle, my fear, my anger, and my suffering, others do not need to pay a conjured debt for who they are.
Compassion, patience, and trust become my weapons against the injustices, inequities, and imbalances that swirl around me.
Allowing it all to exist and maintaining harmony, care, and peace…that is the true work of an activist.
My heart feels quickly, as if flowing on subtle currents in the air. Ego moves faster, thrusting against the wind. Emotions lag behind but still they dance closely together, ego and feelings.
Guided by the dance, I strut and swirl around with urgency, bravado, and sprawling feathers. Responding to surface winds, impulsively flying in a defensive posture, these auto-pilot movements are built on the residue of my stories.
Something shifts and suddenly I am still. For a moment, my intuition takes the lead. There is no need for flight , no rush to action. I know all I need to know as I slow these frenetic motions.
I land. I unruffle. In the not-doing, I am even more than I was just moments before. I hang here in the peace and stillness of slow-looking.
When I land, I am my most powerful.
In the midst of the storm, I feel small and helpless. There is fear that the storm will overcome me.
I know of the danger in advance, but I ignore the warnings to back away. Instead, I hunker down. That is when the floods start, conflict swirls in all directions and visibility is reduced to nothing.
My heart pounds. I struggle to catch my breath, to make logical choices, and to know how to care for me and those around me.
And then I remember back to the time when as the hurricane developed I watched it from above. I saw it’s wild bands expanding, its dark center churning. From above I could see its boundaries. From above I noticed clusters of calm, bright sky swirling in the darkness.
In every storm since, I have acknowledged that I have a choice to turn away and even when I neglect that choice, I can find calm within the bands of chaos if I can just remember flying above it.
I love finding joy in unusual places.
In the raindrop that pokes my cheek and the wind that tosses my hair.
In the pattern of seeds that accidentally scatter on the floor.
In the slow looking that comes with the crowd of cars extending my commute.
In the exhale.
Here I am in my natural state of being. I feel no urgency, only a sense of calm and strength. I begin to know the essence of love.
Maybe finding joy is my super power.
When I am balanced mind and body, I am just ripe. There is no bitterness, no tough skin to cut through. I am neither too soft and falling apart.
Picked too soon, I am raw, needy, unready. Left to ripen too long and I begin to sour and decay.
Perfectly cultivated and connected to my core, I am a source of sustenance, giving flavor and nourishment without expecting anything in return.
Delicious, sweet and juicy, is what you get when I give myself ample time on the vine.
At my core, there is a fiery hot center, a burning ember that stokes my will, drives to protect me, and provides great strength.
When guided by my intuition that fire burns bright as the sun in the distance, like a gentle warrior claiming victory through kindness and compassion.
When led by ego, it becomes blinding and oppressive, randomly erupting in all directions.
That is when I call upon the moon.
The moon with its still darkness brings calm, restores balance. Gathering and redirecting the excessive sun energy, the moon cools the fire to a soft, gentle glow once more.
The mist of ego retreats and the inner wisdom once more shines humbly.
The moon provides just the right light for me to see my way.
Inside, bright and shining. Outside soft and calm.
Harnessing the strength of the sun and the peace of the moon, I am whole once more.
I don’t need a “why.” I just need an “oh.”
Noticing something, my mind quickly jumps in to create a story.
I have this sensation. I will label it. I will now connect it to good or bad. My mind will attach it to a memory and define it as an experience.
How splendid it would be to just notice with curiosity, not the critical mind, as each thought occurs like drops of water. Inquisitively, I watch the water dripping, not seeking to explain its circumstance but simply present in its occurrence.
Awareness without analysis, knowledge for discovery, not proof or justification.
When I “oh” instead of “why”, I “be” instead of “do.”
I no longer have weekdays and weekends. I simply have days.
I no longer have good days or bad days. I simply have days.
Some days feel heavier and on those days I go slow.
Some days feel lighter and on those days I shine a bit brighter.
Whether heavy or light, I live fully and freely in each day.
It feels better to live without labels.
The newly hatched baby bird peeks out of its nest certain of its purpose, tuned to that silent bigness beyond.
And, in its final moments, while completely different in form and experiences, it takes its last few breaths of what it knows as this life, peeks out over the edge, certain of it purpose, tuned to the silent bigness beyond.
And, if it has been fortunate enough to trust its inner knowing in between those moments, it knew of its own greatness, tuned to the silent bigness beyond, and lived with happiness and freedom.
Monday Mindfulness 