You are so wise
…and powerful,
beautiful,
kind,
…and attuned.
You do not have to be any stronger than you are.
You do not have to be more brave than you are.
You do not have to be more balanced than you are,
or flexible,
or creative.
You do not need to be anymore of anything right now.
There is power in peace,
clarity and confidence in grace.
Feel into your wild and free intuition.
Let it guide you unabashedly!!
Let it all flow…
Hot and messy
like a volcano.
Root down and rise up,
Stop your feet,
Get low to the ground.
Burst with great force,
triumphantly,
unapologetically,
into the sky
Release the big
and scary
and frustrating.
Shake like a wet dog when you feel stuck or over burdened.
Curl inward and rest until you remember your power.
You are magnificent.
You
are
magnificent.
The current flows through me like a lightening bolt.
Jaggedly it rips at my center.
The burning wake of hollowness almost crumbles me to the ground.
As the charge hits the earth,
it dissipates,
diffuses,
extinguished in a flash.
Breath and smoldering flesh hang on.
Roots cling to the soil,
unhinged by the destruction.
The sky still dark,
the air now still,
droplets descend from the clouds as a small peace offering and attempt to soothe.
Shhhh….
calls out the rain.
You will prevail.
Forever changed, yes.
Wearing the beautiful mark
of challenge overcome,
and your willingness to be a conduit
for the powerful energy of
change.
Fresh water mixes with salt.
The gateway brackish,
murky,
churning.
Swimming against the angry currents of
struggle,
despair,
and loss.
Riding the tides with
flexibility
and fortitude,
trust
and patience.
Constantly changing conditions stir hope and determination.
Survival requires adaptability.
Leaving the familiar marshes of the small, quiet stream
to swim in the wide open playground of the ocean.
This choice
a devotion.
This river of tears
leads to an ocean of joy.
Loss and grief are proof that you have loved.
Love is the gateway to joy,
joy to peace.
You have loved and
known the essence of being loved.
Let the suffering move through you.
Rip yourself open with this grief.
Purify yourself with tears.
Beat your fists on the ground.
Pound your aching heart.
Take and give every punch with gratitude.
Shatter the barrier to feeling it all.
In the shallows of this darkness that accompany the pain,
Let every pain pour out.
Drop for a moment into the stillness,
this vast emptiness your refuge.
And, just as suddenly as the suffering began, a small space,
cleansed by your tears,
and broken open through your courage,
will begin to fill with sweetness, softness, kindness.
A slow, gradual unfolding will take place
as joy reveals itself
shyly,
purely,
authentically,
and more richly
than ever before,
because you have loved
and are willing to love and be loved again.
Dear Tears,
The pain is so intense, at times, taking the breath away.
Your arrival is a sign of hope,
and a forceful reminder to surrender.
You cleanse and clear the way for a new perspective.
Diving in so deeply and fully, consuming the moment,
you somehow soften the pain and bring breath back into the body.
This dance of flowing, heaving, melting, twisting and turning kneads the suffering into softness.
Every droplet contains an ocean of loving tenderness.
So beautifully pulling back the curtain,
allowing the light in,
transcending time,
washing out all bridges of reality,
exposing the space between,
bringing us home for healing.
Sometimes the light is too bright.
It is quick, and big, and so expansive.
Uncomfortable.
Unfamiliar.
Intimidating.
Too adventurous.
It feels great,
But a little unsafe.
Taking sips.
Feeling cautious.
Going slow.
Becoming curious.
Letting it tingle and flicker.
Allowing glimmers of ease.
Breathe by breath,
Becoming just a little lighter,
Peeling open with an achiness and stiffness,
Untangling and unfurling,
Nourished and relaxed by the light.
Beginning to awaken and transition.
Now softness and trust expand.
Permission granted to feel,
To release,
To become
Something else.
Freedom to be, anew.
An enthusiastic and naïve seagull swoops down on a tiny fish sparkling near the surface of the softly rippling waves.
It eagerly dives in and grasps the silvery treasure.
A simple maneuver performed hundreds of times in the past turns immediately to struggle as a hook and clear line at the end of a poll entangle the unsuspecting.
Soon the sky fills as the silent call for help produces a furry of circling, screeching, and diving.
All are now hovering, pensively and purposefully.
A shirt comes off to cover the bird as nimble hands work to untangle the lines.
The air is filled with insecurity and uncertainty.
A cloud of judgment forms.
It is the bird’s fault.
It is the fisherman’s fault.
They are saving the bird.
They are hurting the bird.
All is a swirl in the energetic exchange of emotions and actions.
Soon there is a release, a cutting free, a letting go.
And none are left untarnished.
There is not an immediate sense of relief as one might expect.
Heads hang heavy, perhaps even filled with shame and remorse.
The drenched shirt, the cut line, the disheveled demeanor of all reminds us that even when the urgent rescue and the struggle dissolve,
There is a residual current of pain that must be allowed to dissipate and transform.
Even in the shortest-lived trauma, there must be a space following for grief, loss, and healing.
No participant in this event is untouched.
Only those who feel fully, surrender to the flood of intense sensations, and tend the wounds of the entanglement will be fully free.
A period of rest and repair is needed for all.
Shaking,
pruning,
pacing,
sounding,
slowing down,
and reconnecting
to the earth,
the water,
and the air,
each participant is offered a blanket of grace, compassion, and love to wrap around them in order for the judgment, fear, shame, and pain to subside.
In due time, as they forgive one another, they once more wander the edge of the sea, seeking nourishment, seeing differently, and feeling a part of something greater,
a net of seemingly invisible lines meant to connect and secure us, and sometimes harrowingly entangling,
always informing and forming
who we are,
where we go,
and how we get there.
For so long I have worked to convert false and illusory love into something genuine and real.
I took every secret, every lie, and tried to make good of it, convert it with my own love, and hold it in my heart as if somehow sacred.
It cut me off from believing I was worthy or capable of experiencing authentic love…so much so that I lost the connection to my own self love.
My heart never forgot. It diligently safeguarded that little piece of me while it held all the other illusions and hopes.
The portion of my heart that held onto dreams of apologies and repair finally grew so heavy and full of empty promises that it ripped itself away. Painfully it twisted and tugged, like an overripe piece of fruit trying to resist gravity’s pull. It finally fell away. Oh the sorrow. Even letting go of something rancid and rotting is still a severing, a deep and real loss.
As that fruit of my broken heart smashed to the ground, its void still consuming my awareness, little seeds of potentiality embedded in the ground. I saw in them hopes that somehow we have all learned from these lessons of untrue love.
Somehow we will remember that without filling there can be no emptying. Without love there is no hope. Without unabashed openness and courage, the fruit cannot ripen and go on to somehow grow into something beautiful.
And in the meantime, the void from the fallen fruit begins to fill with new leaves.
Like begets like.
Peace leads to peace.
Kindness breeds kindness.
Suffering can lead to ease.
Mistakes become opportunities for growth.
Loss makes room for freedom.
Fear dissolves in faith.
Whatever I cultivate as my experience, I have the ultimate power to accept or shift the paradigm. Every experience serves me even when on the surface it may look grim. When I align an experience with the goal of knowing love, the love that is there always – not between people but that creates people – everything comes into balance, harmony prevails.
I no longer need to label my experiences as good or bad when I know that all experiences unfold before me so that I can explore what it is like to be my best self.
This is the process of trust.
Monday Mindfulness 