Taking flight,
balanced in the nature of giving and receiving,
knowing that leaning too heavily into one force or the other will take me off course,
Cause me to tumble.
In order to give, I must receive.
To receive requires generosity.
When I balance these complementary forces I experience the grace and ease that can only be realized when I move from the center of my being,
Wings extended,
Heart open.
Souring on the currents of life.
Today I begin again…not as a punishment or starting over but launching from a new starting line.
To begin again is to feel into an experience in a new way and invite…and then allow… an unexpected outcome.
To joyously and curiously invite variety, spontaneity, and change in such a way as to begin again and begin again, freely cultivating an openness to the unknown while at the same time feeling stable, connected, confident, and grounded.
To begin again is to be fully present, wildly open, and happy in every moment.
Frequently I stumble over my desire to align myself with someone else, to feel liked, to fit in.
Then, I realize a little piece of me is already aligned with everyone else and that is what allows me to stand out.
For each of us there is a layer that surrounds and holds our thoughts and feelings, that ties physical material existence to a sense of being. Built into the walls of that container are our beliefs, values, and desires, ever connected and blending with the feelings of others. These characteristics are what give the container strength but can also become places of vulnerability, weakness, and destruction. Stress fractures can begin to appear over time in the container where the values, beliefs, and habits are challenged, become inflexible and brittle.
Signs of wear or weakness are not markers of fault in the container, but a means for assessing whether repair or replacement could be useful. It may be the values and beliefs woven into that section are ready for reconditioning.
When I visualize the materials, tools, and mending — stitching the fabric, soldering the metal, molding the clay – and give myself permission to reshape the container, perhaps even layering different media, I can begin to fill and empty with experiences in a way that projects and protects the me I have come to be.
When I become the mountain that I see in the distance, I feel my steadiness, my ability to withstand the currents of the winds and the torrents of rain. I may be walked upon by people, animals and time, yet the cracks, worn paths, and decay only add to my character and beauty.
I reach towards the sky never forgetting the love of the earth – the earth within me.
When I feel my true strength, I no longer need to be strong
Smiles and laughter have a beautiful way of resonating in our hearts forever, like the vibration of music carried on the wind. The music is always there…we just sometimes have to stop to listen for it.
I stand at the edge of what appears to be a barren and desolate canyon, seemingly incapable of supporting my growth.
Between the jagged and piercing crevasses, I reach down and discover I don’t need as much as I thought to thrive – simple and small gifts of connection are enough to sustain me. Humility, patience, and kindness soften the edges of the canyon like a gentle rain just enough to allow me to take hold and flourish.
Here I learn of my own fortitude and resilience. Here I may appear to stand out but it’s really just where I belong.
I stand at the edge of what appears to be a barren and desolate canyon, seemingly incapable of supporting my growth.
Between the jagged and piercing crevasses, I reach down and discover I don’t need as much as I thought to thrive – simple and small gifts of connection are enough to sustain me. Humility, patience, and kindness soften the edges of the canyon like a gentle rain just enough to allow me to take hold and flourish.
Here I learn of my own fortitude and resilience. Here I may appear to stand out but it’s really just where I belong.
Every morning through my window I watch the airplanes carve a path through the sky, a seemingly straight line built of swirling vortices.
The pilots consider themselves on a steadfast course, honed to the coordinates entered.
But as I watch the swath cover the sky, I see that one path dissipates into a thousand threads of opportunity to go in a different direction.
What one perceives as the path another sees as the starting point. A straight line swirls and morphs into a cloud.
There is nothing wrong with the trajectory on which I ride, but I find it quite fun to imagine where else I might go.
A tear carves a cool path along my skin. My heart pounds furiously against the constricted edges of my body. Focused on my imperfections, I am frozen.
Motionless, my attention is suddenly diverted to a deep and robust murmur in the sky. I slowly turn and open my eyes to find a hummingbird still yet racing in the sky before me.
Wings fluttering so quickly I cannot see them, heart beating 500 times the speed of mine, there it hovers, searching just like me for nourishment in its motionless.
It’s lightness as much a reality as my heaviness.
Joy and freedom projecting from its racing heart and pounding wings.
My racing heart begins to feel less burdened.
My constricted body is now inspired to move.
The illusion I’ve created of my suffering fades.
I find nourishment in transforming my experiences into joy and lightness, choosing the qualities of a hummingbird over failure.
Monday Mindfulness 