I am not broken.
Although, perhaps to some I may appear that way.
When I sit in stillness, in the quiet of my own heart, it is clear that I may be chipped.
I may be cracked.
Parts of me may be loose or wobbly,
but there is such a profound beauty
in all of the scars and markings of this worn and tired being,
that I can only imagine
if I were completely broken
I would be even more beautiful.
You are so wise
…and powerful,
beautiful,
kind,
…and attuned.
You do not have to be any stronger than you are.
You do not have to be more brave than you are.
You do not have to be more balanced than you are,
or flexible,
or creative.
You do not need to be anymore of anything right now.
There is power in peace,
clarity and confidence in grace.
Feel into your wild and free intuition.
Let it guide you unabashedly!!
I ask not that you change or conform.
You need not worry if who I am is not who you want me to be.
Let’s not need to hold hands in unity,
but hold hearts with respect.
I will not squash who I am,
or expect you to assimilate.
Even if I do not walk in your shoes, I offer you accompaniment,
so that we are both seen and heard and the rhythm and
harmony of our movement through life,
offers a flavorful contrast
for all the world to remember
the value of their own melody.
I stop to touch the tree trunk as I walk by.
My nose perceives the sweetness of bright white clusters of flowers on the horizon and the moistness of the ground beneath me.
I watch as stillness and movement come and go.
I sense the invisible currents of the air
that bring me sounds,
some familiar and many more curious.
This is the work of being on this earth.
Not leaving memories,
but making them.
The current flows through me like a lightening bolt.
Jaggedly it rips at my center.
The burning wake of hollowness almost crumbles me to the ground.
As the charge hits the earth,
it dissipates,
diffuses,
extinguished in a flash.
Breath and smoldering flesh hang on.
Roots cling to the soil,
unhinged by the destruction.
The sky still dark,
the air now still,
droplets descend from the clouds as a small peace offering and attempt to soothe.
Shhhh….
calls out the rain.
You will prevail.
Forever changed, yes.
Wearing the beautiful mark
of challenge overcome,
and your willingness to be a conduit
for the powerful energy of
change.
If our morals and beliefs suggest that we should all
love,
support,
and guide one another,
then wouldn’t true,
authentic
moral conviction
show up in the form of
grace
and forgiveness,
not shackles?
A calling back of the misguided to the embrace of
patience and gentleness,
not humiliation
and chastisement.
The invitation
to not be isolated,
but to come closer.
To take accountability.
To grieve in communion
for the loss
of others wounded by their actions
and
for their own internal suffering.
To wail in the arms of
a community
that shoulders mistakes,
missteps,
and misdeeds,
with understanding and humility,
no matter how egregious
on the surface.
To shed tears together to cleanse,
not punish,
embrace,
not discard,
teach,
not convict.
Gnarled or free flowing.
Grasping or outstretched.
From its center point,
form expands in two directions,
mirrored in the spread of itself confidently into the earth
and it’s expansion courageously into the air.
Nourishment flowing.
Survival impossible without the reflections
of grounding,
of stretching,
of growth,
of change.
One feeding the other,
feeding the other.
Separate in apparent function.
Symbiotic existence as one.
Fresh water mixes with salt.
The gateway brackish,
murky,
churning.
Swimming against the angry currents of
struggle,
despair,
and loss.
Riding the tides with
flexibility
and fortitude,
trust
and patience.
Constantly changing conditions stir hope and determination.
Survival requires adaptability.
Leaving the familiar marshes of the small, quiet stream
to swim in the wide open playground of the ocean.
This choice
a devotion.
This river of tears
leads to an ocean of joy.
I can.
I will.
I am.
Because someone needs it.
My voice,
my intellect,
my pulchritude,
my courage,
my strength,
my kindness,
my grace,
deserve to be
seen,
heard,
felt,
held.
I will make a big, beautiful, bold, magnificent mark on the world…
Because I already have.
Flock to my greatness.
Celebrate me.
Show me pure,
authentic,
loyal,
sweet,
daring,
unconditional love,
the same way I am showing up for you in this world.
The field is bloodied.
Swords scattered and strewn.
In the distance, flowers bloom and a river runs cool and deep.
Who are the victors and what have they gained?
What have the defeated truly lost?
Conflict is inevitable but the results are a choice.
To be a victor without gloating.
To be defeated without wallowing.
To receive and face all that comes without fear.
Each day I have the potential to find strength,
balance,
and humility,
regardless of which end of the sword I face.
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Monday Mindfulness 