Witnessing
the immediate state of
the breath,
the thoughts,
the body.
Melting
conditionality,
quality,
quantity,
purpose,
direction.
Recognizing
perceptions of
loss
challenge,
failure,
imperfection,
and resistance
as a readiness
to be
seen,
felt,
and expressed
otherwise.
The next moment,
a transition,
a transformation.
Loving
and cherishing
what shows up
rather than what comes next.
Along the creek’s edge,
water swiftly flowing,
slippery mud warns of the potential danger in crossing.
Yet here I am, knowing this is the way to go.
I watch as the current jets and swerves around the moss and algae covered rocks scattered in the creek.
I find the most narrow crossing and yet it seems like still an impassible ravine.
My body tightens with anxiety,
For a moment I choose fear in response to this opportunity to move in a new direction.
In the tightening, frozen, I am,
dreading staying where I am equally to where I know I must go.
Then the anxiety speaks more loudly.
My breath grabs at my chest.
Sweat speckles my skin.
I must make the crossing.
That is my destiny.
I step out onto one rock and
with breath unconvinced of my safety the path begins to unfold.
I pause.
Instead of dashing quickly across the precariously and wide spread rocks,
I reach out to the rock before me and test its steadiness.
In the past I might not have made a connection – I might have tried to move urgently, wobbly and unsure, holding my breath and perhaps even crashing in the cold rushing water…blaming the rocks.
Today, my anxiety informs me of my power to pause,
to narrow my attention, my body, and my focus.
I don’t need to take the path as it is.
I tense not with fear but with agency as I move my muscles into action.
I reach down and shift the unsteady rock before me.
It’s heavy and at first won’t move.
So I narrow and tighten more until I funnel the tightness into strength.
The rock moves…and so do the others beyond it…and so do I.
The rocks settle.
I settle.
My chest releases.
My breath deepens.
My body advances forward,
grounded and a bit more sure.
There are a few more stones to go but I now know I don’t need to take them as they are.
I can make the path my own as I find my way.
How can something weeping be so beautiful?
Branches sinking towards the ground,
heavy with the promise of spring.
Blossoms like tears,
dripping from overflowing eyes.
Swaying soulfully in the wind, the blossoms sing a song not of loss but of rebirth.
These branches remind us to remain soft,
to bend and hang low,
to let life flow.
See the beauty and freshness that comes with letting go.
With the same courage that the tree has in these uncertain temperatures and conditions to bravely unfurl its blossoms,
weeping thoroughly,
signs of growth,
remind us of the beauty in letting our tears flow
for behind them comes a richness of life and growth
the likes of which have never been seen or felt before.
I’m not waiting.
I’m allowing.
I’m unlimited creative genius,
Divine!
I am not waiting to be rescued or for my destiny to find me.
I am getting out of the way!
Waiting means I’ve got it all planned out and everything is going to be step by step as I envision.
I know that I don’t make it happen.
I allow it to happen.
So many other forces are at work. Why would I think it’s just me marking my path.
It’s me counting on you and everyone and everything around us.
In that way I cannot control the direction I go in.
All I can do is know that I am headed that way.
I know what it feels like to have the future I am destined for.
The how is irrelevant.
Today I awoke feeling like a snake shedding its skin.
Soft, vulnerable, sensitive, expanding, growing, free.
Ripping through the layers of being that have protected, carried, and framed who I am, I thank those parts of me that no longer fit.
Purifying tears accompany the molting, helping to dilute any doubt.
Courage thrusts me onward – there is no halfway point in change.
The last pieces falling away, I barely recognize me.
For an instant I long for that familiar container.
In the very next instant it is clear I cannot squeeze back into that way of being.
I am destined to be soft, vulnerable, and sensitive
and for now that is what I am.
White flowers
Dark textures
Straight lines
Soft edges
Living wholeness
Dried pieces
Flowing lines
Still emptiness
Warm touches
Cool feeling
Hope and breath
In the spaces
Photo courtesy of Susan Kerr.
Hope you stay open today to all the world out there has to offer you.
There are no wrong choices…even if you choose to be the object of pain or discomfort for yourself or someone else. There is a lesson in it all… a forward momentum.
Sense when to watch and when to leap. Don’t be afraid to feel – all of it. Know that it is all there for you to experiment with and none of it bigger than you…because it is there as a part of you.
Seek adventure curiously and joyfully…in your heart, in your mind, and in every action or inaction. Take on all that is out there in whatever way will grow and inspire you best.
Lift the blinds. Open the window.
Breathe it all in.
Now go live in it.
Challenge can breed fear.
Fear fosters insecurity.
Insecurity inhibits growth.
Growth is a fundamental quality of living.
With growth we can overcome fear.
With every little bit of fear we face
We grow and that growth produces wider bands of safety
Making the next challenge a little easier to face,
Until more and more often the challenges yield directly to growth over fear,
And growth becomes the natural next step closer to joy.
I don’t have to think like you.
I can leave a space for your thoughts in my mind without compromising my own.
I don’t have to love you.
I can hold a space for you in the sacred abode of love in my heart.
I don’t have to make choices in response to your choices.
I can make space for choices that clears away the clouds of fear, and doubt, and greed.
Being human affords me the opportunity to think, love, and choose.
Grace affords me the space to think, love, and choose freely, kindly, and honestly and leave room for you to do the same.
So many times I have wished for a window into the future, into the consequences of my choices.
Seeking certainty in my decisions, weighing my intuition against the feedback in my environment, just to be sure I am getting the best deal, walking the right path, doing the proper thing.
All along I have sought clarity to fuel my certainty. I thought that clarity would provide assurance as if my choices could ever be right or wrong.
The day I chose acceptance over assurance is the day I began to realize there are no good and bad choices, no right or wrong.
When I seek assurance in my choices, I am doubting my capacity to be flexible, creative, and resilient.
When I seek to accept my choices I engage compassion for myself and confidence that I will be ok no matter what choice I make.
Monday Mindfulness 