Monday Mindfulness

Cultivating Strength, Joy, Calm & Resilience

Category Archives: coaching


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Battle fatigue

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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Regal Seagull

I fly out over the waves I call my home in search of nourishment.

In my seeking, I drift farther and farther from my nest.

Eventually, I am too tired to go on.

As I land, I find completely unfamiliar surroundings.

So unnerving, the experience of stepping out of the familiar, even when it’s for my own survival.

Do I retrace my steps and return to what was and where I came from, scavenging and settling for the scraps?

Do I settle into this new space and look ahead, embracing the unfamiliar and uncertain?

I can turn back or I can stand on these new shores.

I can forage and discover.

I pause and tuck under my wings where I find a consistent space of solace and reassurance,

to rest, to calm, and regain focus,

Here, I remember that to truly nourish myself,

I just may need to take flight and perch on new frontiers.

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Interpretations

The wind determines what I hear.

My eyes inform what I see.

The body interprets what I sense.

Thoughts form from what I hear, see, and feel as an experience.

Beliefs cling to these thoughts and this experience as truth,

setting emotions into action and reaction.

In reality, if there is such a thing, it is all just a choice, interpretation best when it comes not from my beliefs but in what I choose to believe.

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Little sips of ease

There is not one giant awakening.

There is no detachment from pain.

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.


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Acceptance

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.


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Perfectly Molting

A bird flies overhead,

magnificent in its form and grace,

perfection in flight.

So present in its existence, movement, and being.

So seemingly joyful and at ease, even as it efforts to ride the currents of air, finding its own way.

A feather lies on the ground,

long, lush, and of complex substance and form,

once essential to the bird’s form and function.

Even the bird,

relying so heavily on its feathers for form, movement, and survival,

molts and looses critical parts of itself to maintain its dynamic essence and functional existence,

growing into its fullest capacity.

It does not wallow in the loss of its parts.

It revels in the new found strength and skill that comes from letting go

and reforming with integrity

and wholeness

over and over again.


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Swimming

I came into this world knowing only me.

Somewhere along the way,

As I grew to know there were others,

I let them define who I came to be.

I thought I should follow.

And as a child, like a duckling, I did.

For that was my only sure source of food, shelter, survival.

But along the way, I noticed

I could forage, swim, and tuck my beak into my own wings

in a way unique to me.

It didn’t mean the others were wrong…

I just didn’t seem to be an exact fit to how they did these things.

I wrestled with knowing that I could make it on my own.

I convinced myself that I still needed to follow and be how and what they dictated.

And then one day, I gave it a small try.

I wandered a little farther away.

I showed up last to the waters edge.

I sat a bit longer in the sun than the rest.

There I found ease and a new sense of knowing.

The aloneness still haunts me from time to time as I am now no longer part of that brood.

And yes swimming on my own takes a new kind of effort.

But I’ve noticed

The others haven’t gone away.

Just their influence over my choices has.

Now we search for food near each other but don’t have to fight for the same piece.

We gather closer together when we need warmth and give space as needed.

We swim in the same waters but no longer in each other’s wake.

It’s a new way of existing,

This coming back to knowing me,

And it seems to be just the way it is supposed to be.


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perfect holes

Imagine an artist hand-working a tapestry with such precision that it rippled with perfection, had no evidence of flaws in material or craftsmanship, and contained absolutely no mistakes.

Would the artist call it perfect? Would they feel any less insecure in the results of their work? Would they recognize their accomplishment? Could they see their work as flawless? Is there such a thing? Would they want to be? And how would this perfect tapestry be received any differently than any others?

The brave artist announces mistakes not in shame, with excuses, or expecting judgment, but with joy in knowing that imperfections are not signs of our flaws and weaknesses but demonstrations of our beauty – and our capacity for compassion and forgiveness. Imperfections provide opportunities for us to create, again and again, not for the sake of achieving perfection but as play with absolutely no desired outcome other than the act of creating itself.

We need not be embarrassed, fearful, or ashamed in our mistakes. We and others benefit every time we craft with complete vulnerability and humility. Each mistake is important as it leaves space for love to come through.


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Purpose popping

Today I choose

curiosity,

clarity,

and confidence

to guide me,

releasing control,

as my purpose presents itself most fully

when I play freely

with my challenges,

not anticipating

or crafting

precisely what will pop up,

but knowing

it will be beautiful,

if I just let it be.


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Broken, and…

I came into this world far from perfect.

I came into this world, carrying a satchel of burdens, broken pieces, and suffering.

I came into this world to learn that whatever imperfections,

whatever brokenness,

whatever missing parts,

I am no less complete.

I am no less whole.

I am no less beautiful.

I am no less worthy.

I am no less valuable.

In fact, I am more striking,

more exceptional,

more capable,

more intriguing,

and more powerful,

as I embrace the contrast.

Unpacking the contents of the satchel,

I bravely weave together all the pieces with a thread of light and love that enjoys a lack of symmetry,

dances in the gaps,

Expands to fill the holes,

and revels in the spaces.

It is in the imperfections, the scars of journeys past, and the history that we carry,

That we remember the inner layers and the threads of who we truly are.