I no longer have weekdays and weekends. I simply have days.
I no longer have good days or bad days. I simply have days.
Some days feel heavier and on those days I go slow.
Some days feel lighter and on those days I shine a bit brighter.
Whether heavy or light, I live fully and freely in each day.
It feels better to live without labels.
Follow the path of a straight line or spiral as you grow…either way the sky is the limit.
My mind says the work shows my value.
My emotions say the work provides purpose.
But my body say the work is tiring.
When out of balance, my body knows suffering, strain and illness.
It goes along with the plan for quite some time until systems become so taxed that it begins to breakdown, accelerating the natural limitlessness of this container.
And still I push on, the ego shouting louder about value and emotions crying for purpose.
Desperate for ease and repair the body collapses.
Foolishly, I believe that this is the only way.
Until I start to listen.
I hear my body’s call for balance now long before exhaustion.
I put down the baton and slow the doing.
I rest.
And I rest.
And I rest.
Sometimes it’s hard to turn off the voices of the doing, the voices of the wanting.
But it is in the space of rest where the tiny voice inside of me reminds me that greater value and purpose is born of nurturing.
Of nurturing this body, this mind, this heart.
Not just feeding, but honoring and loving, all of these aspects of me equally.
In this space, the desire to do and be something blends with the peace and stillness and then it becomes crystal clear that I need nothing more.
It is in the quiet space of rest where I am most powerful, most beautiful, and undeniably most complete.
There is an artistry to the life we live. The patterns and colors that emerge as a result of our presence here in this space are unique. No two of us the same, yet all of us connected, we weave together the tapestry of this existence. The fabric of each moment carries the design of what we choose to contribute and what we choose to leave behind — spaces forever colored by our presence…long after we have left the room.
That doesn’t mean we all have to be the same, but we all hear and see each other as the valuable contributions that complete our circle.
Never stop believing in the goodness of others.
I am on the verge,
the verge of wondrous things or perhaps tremendous calamity.
It really makes no difference. The precipice is the same, the grander just the same.
There is beauty in it all,
Grace in it all,
Peace in it all,
Because all is love.
All is love.
