Monday Mindfulness

Cultivating Strength, Joy, Calm & Resilience


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Chosen

Dark and heavy clouds fill the sky.

There is a moist, chilling feel in the air.

Worry, doubt, and greed swirl on the wind.

At the center of it all,

like an eye opening timidly from a long slumber,

a small space opens.

Unleashed absent effort,

unconditional,

unassuming,

extending unrestrainably outward,

an ancient healing balm,

a penetrating and permiating force,

stirs and

rises up.

It moves and shifts,

overcoming,

discerning,

dissolving,

and shifting.

Without seeking,

or striving,

it appears,

almost effervescently,

greeting all of the

anguish,

pain,

and

suffering

with gentle kindness,

patience,

humility,

and peace.

Love moves from within,

chosen

to be

seen,

felt,

and heard.

.


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Healing Salve

I hold your broken heart,

recognizing the worn and chipped pieces

of injury, loss, humiliation, and dejection

and the pains of long ago never repaired or attended to,

grown over with patchwork scars and gaping cracks and holes.

I am sorry for picking at and reopening those wounds.

I am sorry for creating new fissures and further weakening your heart’s integrity and your ability to feel whole.

I only ever meant to hold your heart gently and sweetly,

but at times my fear of losing it made me grip so hard

and cling so forcefully

that I only added to its brokenness.

I never lost sight of its beauty and worth.

I never lost touch with its essence.

But as I began to doubt the essence of my own heart, I chipped away at yours.

I only hope now to heal my heart

and send ripples of unconditional love across the void of brokenness,

applying a healing salve and restoring integrity.

With the deepest love of my heart, I render this prayer for forgiveness.


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Havier’s Heart

I know not how

to befriend you.

There are no words or actions that I have learned

to guide me in this seemingly simple endeavor.

Yet I sense

it is crucial to my survival.

I long to connect

and belong.

It is not for a lack of love

or desire

that I appear

so unwilling or unable

to conduct myself as

a friend.

I simply do not know how.

I do know my capacity to love and the kind space that exists

within me

so ready to receive and serve you.

All I can do right now is

breathe in,

expanding and opening myself

just a little more,

building trust in my inner knowing

that I am part of the unseen bond that exists between us all,

and that your care and patience will help me find my way.

With each exhale, I extend myself

slowly and courageously

Into the edges and folds of you

in hopes that my melding

feels as gentle

and loving

as I intend it to be.


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This heart’s message

You are safe and loved.

I support you.

I will protect you.

It’s okay to feel sad, scared, or anxious.

It’s okay to say no.

I love you the way you are.

You are kind, smart, and funny.

You are important.

I am happy you are here.


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Sparkling Entanglement

An enthusiastic and naïve seagull swoops down on a tiny fish sparkling near the surface of the softly rippling waves.

It eagerly dives in and grasps the silvery treasure.

A simple maneuver performed hundreds of times in the past turns immediately to struggle as a hook and clear line at the end of a poll entangle the unsuspecting.

Soon the sky fills as the silent call for help produces a furry of circling, screeching, and diving.

All are now hovering, pensively and purposefully.

A shirt comes off to cover the bird as nimble hands work to untangle the lines.

The air is filled with insecurity and uncertainty.

A cloud of judgment forms.

It is the bird’s fault.

It is the fisherman’s fault.

They are saving the bird.

They are hurting the bird.

All is a swirl in the energetic exchange of emotions and actions.

Soon there is a release, a cutting free, a letting go.

And none are left untarnished.

There is not an immediate sense of relief as one might expect.

Heads hang heavy, perhaps even filled with shame and remorse.

The drenched shirt, the cut line, the disheveled demeanor of all reminds us that even when the urgent rescue and the struggle dissolve,

There is a residual current of pain that must be allowed to dissipate and transform.

Even in the shortest-lived trauma, there must be a space following for grief, loss, and healing.

No participant in this event is untouched.

Only those who feel fully, surrender to the flood of intense sensations, and tend the wounds of the entanglement will be fully free.

A period of rest and repair is needed for all.

Shaking,

pruning,

pacing,

sounding,

slowing down,

and reconnecting

to the earth,

the water,

and the air,

each participant is offered a blanket of grace, compassion, and love to wrap around them in order for the judgment, fear, shame, and pain to subside.

In due time, as they forgive one another, they once more wander the edge of the sea, seeking nourishment, seeing differently, and feeling a part of something greater,

a net of seemingly invisible lines meant to connect and secure us, and sometimes harrowingly entangling,

always informing and forming

who we are,

where we go,

and how we get there.


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Reasons

I can choose to encounter my world through friction and tension…

Or synchronized and harmonious.

There is feedback and purpose in both.

Tuning to aversion or alignment as the compass points on my path,

I can either move towards what feels comfortable, favorable, and right

Or rub up against imbalance, back up, turn away and go around.

I can always choose resistance or resonance.


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Ever Changing Skies

Shifting

Swirling

Overlapping

Never separate

Never fully one

Dark and light blending

No clear definition

Stormy or clearing

All sources of nourishment

Endless gifts

Purpose in all.


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As The Wind Blows

I am made of grace

Flowing and free

A mystery force

Unseen yet felt

Barreling through corridors

Softly pressing against your body

Making my way.

Often unnoticed

Unappreciated

Lonely at times

Ignored unless I rage

Stoking flames

Tipping trees

Whipping myself around wildly

Roaring in your ears.

Do you notice my work

Clearing old leaves from the trees,

Making wild flowers dance,

Brightening your cheeks?

Or are you only frustrated

As I muss your hair,

Push against you,

Rip through your windows?

Invite me in,

Swirl with me,

Experience my grace as your own.

Help me avoid the need to burst into flames

Or wither to nothing just to be noticed,

To feel connected to you.

Honor not just my ferociousness

But the power in my grace.


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Ripples

May ripples of love and acceptance help you see all the good in others so that you can see it in you too.


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Loss, Not Lost

Grief…it’s not about the loss as much as creating and being able to access a little warm place in your heart where you hold that connection forever.

I used to think that grief was the act of severing ties and throwing away something special because it was lost.

But now I know that grief is a process of storing the memories of the specialness of every experience regardless of its labels, conditions, and how it came to be or not be.

Grief is experiencing the loss without getting lost.