Root my grounding cord deep into the earth.
Open my mind to the wisdom of the universe.
Flow endless love and joy through the river of my heart.
Fuel me with confidence and clarity.
Allow me to be a humble reservoir of harmony and balance,
in the space between earth and sky,
in this space of being human.
Feet to the earth,
Surrounded by air.
Sounds of rustling leaves, branches, and brush accompany every step.
The whispers and shadows of the forest
offer glimpses of light and dark,
solemn quiet and crashing thunder,
scents of decay and signs of new birth.
Never alone, the choice always exists.
To walk with the
doubting self,
the fearful heart,
the closed mind.
Or to soften into
the grace,
the power,
the love,
and
the joy
of choosing
to walk alone
through these woods.
When I let go of trying to make things happen,
when I stop holding onto the belief that I need to make all the decisions and have all the answers,
I no longer feel an urgency to advance,
to be someone or something in particular.
When I let the work do itself,
methodically and gently applying curiosity and trust,
asking what’s next
without immediately seeking an answer,
allowing options to arise,
instead of predetermining the way,
believing in myself versus holding onto worn out beliefs,
success flows more quickly, smoothly, and freely.
When I take the pressure off myself and those around me to fit into my limiting perspective and beliefs,
I step more fully into my true potential…and they into theirs.
When I stop making myself small through my thoughts and feelings,
when I stop looking to you for answers,
it is clear that I don’t need the answers at all,
merely to hold onto the knowledge that I am doing the work
just by being here.
Open the box.
Release the wounded,
dejected, and painful parts.
Be not afraid
that they will multiply
or grow bigger
if you let them out,
for as soon as
you hold them
on a platform
to be seen,
they become
fragile,
small,
sweet,
needing nothing
more than the space to dissolve,
into the open air,
into the rolling sea
of being,
where they become
nourishment
for our greatest
dreams,
successes,
and gifts.
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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At the heart of all is love.
At the heart of me is love.
It’s ok to be skeptical.
No need to be clear or believe it,
And it’s still true.
Everything is working for me.
I need not soften into the knowing.
I can breathe and stand in this,
or I can struggle and resist,
and it will still happen – I am being.
I occupy this space, knowing that no one occupies this space like me.
Big or small,
tall or coiled,
heavy or light,
bold or shy,
free or bound.
The heart of me remains unchanged.
The heart of you remains unchanged.
The heart of all remains of love.
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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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Across the barren soil of imagination are strewn seeds of desire.
They float through the air like translucent orbs, barely noticeable.
Gradually, they land, softly burrowing into the jagged and uneven ground before them.
They are compelled to nestle in,
trusting that as they are swallowed up by the soil somehow this is what they need to grow.
And so they make themselves small, quiet and still,
compelled to sprout in time,
willing to grow slowly with care.
They will face the drought of unworthiness,
resistance as they break through and change the barren land,
impatience as they require much tending before they produce any flowers or fruit,
and fear that they may not survive at all.
The patient gardener knows this.
With an eye on the potential magnificence, beauty, and need for these seeds to flourish,
nurturing instead of forcing.
Waiting joyfully,
the gardener balances hope with knowing,
confident that with proper care, attention, consistency, and flexibility,
in due time these seeds will fully grow into their potential
and from them will come more translucent orbs ready to contribute to the wildest, most beautiful, richest landscape imaginable.
In between the mountains and valleys of thoughts,
Flows an inner resource deep within.
Its current runs through the deepest and darkest crevices of experience and rushes along the jagged and unpredictable surfaces of emotions.
It’s temperature, force, and direction make subtle shifts,
Navigating the terrain as it comes before it,
the inner resource remaining the constant in the ever-changing landscape.
It may from time to time be difficult to discern its presence, but with practice its presence becomes the familiar.
It’s consistent support and connection are unshakable.
All well being stems from and is fed by the inner resource.
The inner resource is the well of well being,
The inner resource is the taproot of our existence.
Can you feel it?
Hope twinkles like tiny stars.
Courage forms in the constellations of small hopes coming together.
Darkness besets as guidance,
a backdrop for creation,
clarity, and definition.
Once the constellation appears,
even when darkness fades,
even when engulfed in light,
the stars are connected,
the constellation remains,
for once seen it can never be forgotten.
Monday Mindfulness 