I stand at the window looking outward. Not noticing the shining sun or the beautiful signs of life flowering around me. Instead I focus on the water spots, dust, and debris collected on the window pane. I am quick to blame outside factors for my spotty view.
But then I remember that I can wipe that window clean. It is not a conspiracy that the rain and flowers and earth have stirred up and thrown at me. They are not trying to obstruct my view. Rather they invite me to step outside, to clear the lens, and look in to see the beauty that lies there.
And so each time that window gets dirty, I know it is just a reminder to brush off the outside and look within. And when I focus inward with clarity, what I see looking outward shines more brightly too.
Funny how we assign emotions, assume other’s perspectives, and assimilate outside experiences as our own.
The body works so hard to represent the advisory panel of our thoughts, feelings, and sensations, but sometimes it doesn’t always get that representation right. Sometimes we read too much into posture, expression, engagement. We jump to conclusions.
All along, it’s just a series of labels we attach to things to create order — an illusion that we have some sort of control.
Let the labels wash away and then what is there? Energy — plain and simple chemical reactions — that whimsically attach to illusions. Eliminating the labels, we engage our intuition, not just our eyes, to interpret our surroundings. It is not always what I see that informs, but how it bumps up against me energetically.
The real gift in communication and connection is tapping into that energy.
Bored…or relaxed?
Impatient…or enthusiastic?
Sad…or peaceful?
Or maybe the energy isn’t connected to the expression at all.
Lose the labels…make the deeper connections…feel the power in knowing beyond seeing.
Sleep evades me when my thoughts and emotions battle to define my reality.
When I look through the lens of fear and doubt, my eyes are reluctant to close as my body dwells in the space of my inadequacy.
If I could just soften the clenching, look another direction, allow my body to surrender to my inner knowing that all is ok, then I could dive in…dive in between the thoughts and feelings and their manifestation in my body, dive in to a space wide open where I can sort my experiences, face my decisions and choices, explore outcomes, and perceive failures and successes without consequence or judgement.
If I can just allow myself to dive in, I discover a playground in my dreams that frees me from the illusions of success or failure, where I always have the option to stop the experience or change its path.
And, then I awaken remembering that I have this same control, this same ability to change my experience, when I am awake as when I sleep.
I am no longer restless for I realize I am not my dreams, I am not my feelings, I am not my emotions – they are just the space in which I play.
As I push and pull upon it, a shape begins to form. The temperature, texture, and identity of that clay grow with me.
As my best efforts produce an uneven, imbalanced figure, one to which I have nonetheless become attached, I realize more work needs to be done.
To bring the work into balance requires undoing what I have created, detaching from what is currently there before me.
The chemical reaction in my brain, the visceral response in my body, and the tugging of my thoughts and emotions make reworking the clay painful.
To restore balance, I must pull the familiar apart. I must disintegrate the work. It is not without labor and discomfort that I destroy the familiar and let go of what I knew as my best work.
I tremble with fear and doubt – I cannot imagine a greater work than before.
And there it is. After the pain of disintegration comes release from what was…freedom from past bests.
Pleasure and pride arise as the new shape takes form, coming closer into balance.
With faith and perseverance, disintegration leads to evolution.
It is not my intent to be uncooperative or argumentative. I never rise in the morning with a plan to see others as difficult or ungrateful. But, soon antigens like stress, fatigue, and illness feed into the chaos of my day and next thing you know otherwise favorable relationships begin to sour.
It is easy to defend my actions, to blame others, and to deny the fear that gives rise to my crustiness. But, for what? Why is it that just when I need kindness most I fuel the unrest?
If we seek empathy, acceptance, and compassion from others, we must first practice it ourselves.  Reflecting on how we come across and how we see others may help us to be more patient with the “cantankerous” people who cross our paths each day…and that just might make it a little less likely that we will be the cantankerous ones.
Life is not about suffering. Yet, frequently I fall into a pattern of thinking I am not fully living my life if there is not conflict or hardship.
I have made up a story that there is no room for me to be happy, no time or purpose for self care, rest, nourishment, and companionship. No space for laughter, play, and love.
Yet without those features my life is not complete and I move farther and farther away from my natural state of being.
I don’t even realize that the life I think I should be leading, the life that constantly tells me I am not worthy and not enough, is shrouding me in darkness, not because that is who I am supposed to be but as a reminder of what I am deeper inside.
I am enough just the way I am. I am successful right here and now. I am capable of feeling strong, happy, and healthy always. I am worthy of goodness.
I am made of love and my real purpose here in this place and time is to be a source of love for myself and others.
All the other stuff – the striving, the suffering, and self-deprecation — is just like cobwebs and dust, painting a picture of dismay and decay. However, quite easily with a swift and conscious swipe I can clear them all away to restore the beauty of the forgotten objects that reside just below.
In this cleaning of my house, I once more feel the freshness, spaciousness, and goodness that is intended to be. In devoting just that little bit of time and attention, that quick swipe, to restoring the luster, everything seems to fall into place. When that shroud is removed all that remains is the goodness that is in fact my life and who I am supposed to be.
In the midst of the storm, I feel small and helpless. There is fear that the storm will overcome me.
I know of the danger in advance, but I ignore the warnings to back away. Instead, I hunker down. That is when the floods start, conflict swirls in all directions and visibility is reduced to nothing.
My heart pounds. I struggle to catch my breath, to make logical choices, and to know how to care for me and those around me.
And then I remember back to the time when as the hurricane developed I watched it from above. I saw it’s wild bands expanding, its dark center churning. From above I could see its boundaries. From above I noticed clusters of calm, bright sky swirling in the darkness.
In every storm since, I have acknowledged that I have a choice to turn away and even when I neglect that choice, I can find calm within the bands of chaos if I can just remember flying above it.
Monday Mindfulness 