Connection is at the core of communication. How I feel about you and what you say is directly tied to my beliefs about myself. My stories and patterns of reaction determine the fruits of our interactions. So, in order to communicate effectively, I must leave you to your own beliefs and stories and simply tune my vibration to what feels good. When I leave all that other stuff out of it, I find authentic and harmonious connection in every communication.
Every change has a transition, a pause between what has happened and what is left to do.
This threshold offers a clear and open vantage point,
an opportunity to be fully present, not leaning back or lunging forward, but knowingly and confidently stepping into who we are now ready to be.
Whether recovering from an illness, overcoming loss, or realizing dharma, we come to this threshold not by accident or failure but as a reminder of our power to heal and know greater peace and ease.
In this doorway lies an intricate and yet simple network of universal connections fueling our every desire and supporting our every need, holding us, preparing us, reminding us we are ready to carry on. We are never alone.
We do not need to know what lies beyond this doorway, or to worry about being received on the other side.
We need only remember the full and unwavering choice we have to be here, to step in and step through to the wild and beautiful landscape infinitely sprawling before us.
Photo credit: Clifden Castle Ireland, gateway to the wild and beautiful, captured by my mischievous soul sister.
How to be strong and vulnerable.
Look others in the eye.
I’m learning that your opinions about me come from your experiences not mine.
Your beliefs, values and habits were formed not by my behaviors but by your experiences.
So next time I judge you or think you are making a mistake, I will remind myself to pause and explore the roots of my feelings.
They were more likely than not aimed at something or someone that came long before this moment with you. This encounter just somehow shook them up or rattled them loose.
If we can both remember this we can both forgive and understand that the mistakes of other are really just reminders of our own unlearned lessons.
Here I am, walking along, awareness softly tuned to my surroundings.
Without any warning, the easy state of awareness suddenly funnels with precision into the soul of my foot.
A slew of messages instantly travels light lightening through my body alerting me to intense sensation.
There is a pebble in my shoe.
With each step now, I have a choice.
Do I immediately freeze, paralyzed by this unanticipated happening, shutting down, urgently driven to remove the discomfort?
Do I pause, taking notice, receiving the sensations with curiosity and kindness, quietly ascertaining my next step?
Or do I continue walking, noticing, and finding unique learning in every step, even through the unsettledness and unease?
Can I cultivate gratitude for the ability to feel, to move, and motivate, to decide with every step?
Whatever I do, it should be with care, not reacting but receiving, even when unexpected and uncomfortable, a constant reminder of my free will.
Control creates the illusion of safety.
The more I seek control, the more insecure I become.
The more I allow myself to trust the not-knowing to result in wisdom, the uncertainty to to inspire clarity, and the gift of others’ feedback to grow my confidence, the less I approach life as a field of potential failures and instead find a river of opportunities.
The less I grapple with control, the more I understand how much there is to learn and realize how much I already know.
The deadline was met.
The difficulty has passed.
The challenge is complete.
Is there a way to just feel rest instead of collapsing into this state of completion?
Must dread and arduousness accompany the work?
Why have I created this belief that I need struggle in order to be worthy of the prize of rest?
Could I move instead from a place of ease in such a way that the work is joyful, the learning graceful?
Could challenge instead be reframed as delightful growth?
Yes, if I choose to make it that way.
It’s so hard to come out of this cocoon,
Perfectly fitting around me,
The barrier I need to dampen sensations and dull the sharp contrast of the outer world and what’s going on inside of me.
I arrive at the precipice of transformation, the seal broken on my familiar encasing,
The time now ripe for my evolution.
Thinking the hard part is past me,
The formation of this new way of being is here.
And yet as the cocoon slices open, there is no longer a sense of security, of the familiar, or predictability.
These new wings are wet and heavy, my footing unsure.
My nourishment and direction are uncertain.
Yet, I find the courage to spread my wings, scattering the newly applied and still wet coating that will ultimately protect me.
Now settling into this new being,
I look out at the vast horizon.
Vibrant colors, textures and shapes seem distantly familiar,
Invigorating my curiosity,
Reminding me vaguely of what I once was and what I now will be.
It is time.
I flutter my wings.
I am free.
The more connected I am to you in compassion the more I realize my capacity to give and receive love.
It is in the receiving that I find connection to my higher knowing of my strengths and goodness, of my value and purpose, of harmony and grace.
Love me, but above all may I be capable of receiving that love.
For the love in me becomes the roots and branches of all that I am.
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.