Monday Mindfulness

Cultivating Strength, Joy, Calm & Resilience


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Ne

My roots are in my breath.

Every inhale allowing the material and superficial conditions of my being human to fall away.

Every exhale reminding me of the expansiveness of my essence,

the pliability,

permeability,

fluidity,

of my foundation.

Not what I am or

where I’ve been.

Not entrenched in the past or

tethered to the future,

This foundation reminds me,

beyond what matters,

beyond all matter,

that I am not that.

I am holding everything and

holding onto nothing.

My foundation is the launching point.

I am founded

in my unlimitedness.


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And

Where does it end,

the light from the sun 

the light of the moon, 

the dark of the shadows

the vastness of the sky,

cold of winter,

unfurling of spring?

Where is the line 

that separates joy 

from sorrow,

excitement 

from fear?

What fills the space between earth and sky?

Is it my heart?

My body?

My breath?

In my mind I struggle 

to find a separation,

an either or,

a division,

a moment,

where one exists without the other.

I cannot 

and therefore 

I cannot regret.

I cannot long.

I cannot judge,

right or wrong.

I cannot reject sorrow 

or long for joy.

I cannot suffer in darkness or immerse myself fully in light.

I am made of it all.

It is all in me.

Or is none of it?

I am the space that fills 

the space between.

I am the end of light,

the beginning of dark.

I am all of the joy and filled with sorrow.

I am the convergence of earth and sky. 

I am the meeting place for it all.

I am the “and.”


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Anticipation

Bursting with excitement.

Tempted by fear.

To hold back.

To bring less of my

intelligence,

beauty,

creativity,

power

so as not to overwhelm them.

But they feel it anyway.

They want it.

And there is a good chance they won’t be able to handle it.

But that shouldn’t stop me

from being all that I am.

My allness

is ready

to bloom,

in all

of

its

magnificence.


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Today

Tomorrow is not promised.

Align and open to the greatest gifts of today.

Open to your strengths.

Hold your wounds and weaknesses as reminders.

If you can remember these, you can remember you are something more.

You are something so much more.


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Experimenting

Not chasing answers

but curiously asking questions.

Fleeting, bubbles of inquiry,

floating, popping, landing

with different degrees of impact.

Wonder and awe ignited.

Delight inspired.

Freedom found

when instead of chasing results,

I am open to receiving conclusions freely.


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Beautiful

I am not broken.

Although, perhaps to some I may appear that way.

When I sit in stillness, in the quiet of my own heart, it is clear that I may be chipped.

I may be cracked.

Parts of me may be loose or wobbly,

but there is such a profound beauty

in all of the scars and markings of this worn and tired being, 

that I can only imagine 

if I were completely broken 

I would be even more beautiful.


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The nudge

Saying yes to “hard.”

With kindness 

and gentleness.

With hope

and tenacity.

With assertiveness

and assuredness.

Calm.

Confident.

Clear.

Recognizing the “hard”

as the nudge 

towards

easing up

and

letting go.


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Night follies

Tossing and turning

to release the entanglements,

the incomplete exchanges,

the charges,

the depletions,

the crossings,

taking from,

or rejecting

others

and self.

Battling in the darkness

the shame

and judgment

of the weaknesses,

mistakes,

and stuckness.

Playing the game

of loathing,

disaappintment,

protection,

defeat,

revenge,

in my sleep.

All the while knowing that whatever happened yesterday does not decide today.  

No matter the outcome of the dreams or circumstances of before,

I will awake to a whole new tomorrow,

another opportunity to play.


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Truly Free

The sky parts,

inviting me closer,

calling me towards something,

no path,

no plan,

to go nowhere

or everywhere.

Just go…

be free.

Is the freedom in the flying or the landing?

Going away or coming home?

Is freedom in the movement,

or the stillness,

in the belonging,

or the aloneness,

in the surrender,

or the embrace?

Freedom is not achieved.

It is a quality of mind.

Could it be that I am afraid to truly be free?


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Blisters

My old, worn out shoes,

so familiar,

form to fit my imperfect feet,

adapted over time to accommodate my lopsided gate,

carrying me faithfully in my uneven stride.

There comes that time that those beloved companions have served their purpose,

worn out in functionality,

poised for retirement.

In come the replacements,

stiff,

awkward,

shifting,

adjusting.

Blisters making way for bliss – forging new connections for movement and growth.