
I may not always be able to see clearly,
But I can always feel clearly
When I accept that where I am is where I am.

I may not always be able to see clearly,
But I can always feel clearly
When I accept that where I am is where I am.

I am made of grace
Flowing and free
A mystery force
Unseen yet felt
Barreling through corridors
Softly pressing against your body
Making my way.
Often unnoticed
Unappreciated
Lonely at times
Ignored unless I rage
Stoking flames
Tipping trees
Whipping myself around wildly
Roaring in your ears.
Do you notice my work
Clearing old leaves from the trees,
Making wild flowers dance,
Brightening your cheeks?
Or are you only frustrated
As I muss your hair,
Push against you,
Rip through your windows?
Invite me in,
Swirl with me,
Experience my grace as your own.
Help me avoid the need to burst into flames
Or wither to nothing just to be noticed,
To feel connected to you.
Honor not just my ferociousness
But the power in my grace.

Standing on the precipice, mountains before me and behind me, I contemplate briefly the ascent or decent into the unknown.
No worries that the fog hinders my view because I feel my feet. I know that each moment, step by attuned step, I will find the earth and the sure footing that only comes with internal clarity.
Like the goat that climbs the rocks and edges of the cliffs with certainty, I approach the present, with the same attention to which I have all too often focused on my future and my past.
Looking back and looking forward the fog distorts the view. The lack of clarity forces me to see here, only that which is right in front of me.
In this moment, I put my hooves to the ground. I see the steps I need to take right here and now. I do not need to see the mountains in the foreground to know my way.

This morning, just as dawn broke in the sky, my eyes fluttered open.
Immediately my body tensed as I filled my head with to-do items, remaining self-criticism of all my failures and missed deadlines and opportunities of the day before, and doubts about whether I could make anything worthwhile out of today.
And just before I peeled back the covers and dashed off to start another arduous day, I wondered what was it like when I would just wake up happy?
There must have been a time in life when my first thoughts weren’t of the past or future but of noticing right now,
Where I simply noticed the cool of the morning air on my cheeks, the stillness of my body, the comfort of my bed.
A time when I felt whole, complete and not in a rush to hurry on or recoil into hiding.
I felt my way back into my body with a kind reacquaintance as if welcoming back an old and dear friend.
I noticed little sounds and followed them rhythmically in my mind sometimes as they travelled to me and sometimes back to their source.
I made no plan for what was next.
And on the voice that travels through the cells of my body softly said
This is love,
This is joy,
This is who I am.
I waited and waited there until that one memory resurfaced of that time when I awoke like this…or at least it conjured the feeling I had awoken like this.
I felt into that fully…waking up as enough, waking up with my heart open, waking up in love with myself and knowing that anything is possible when I wake up happy.

I am never quite sure what challenges lie ahead.
I reach out, spreading my branches despite the fog.
I do not know what I will touch or be touched by.
I cannot help but feel a darkness lurking there, fear ever present in knowing there may be hurt or pain in the unknowns and unkinds that secretly swirl around me.
The fog fuels my insecurity as the branches of other trees press against me further threatening my place in the sun.
It is then that I remember that I am made to bend and sway.
I reach not with my branches but deep down through my roots.
I extend my roots for both of us, steadying me and gently holding you so that together we can face the fog and darkness with greater certainty.
I am grateful to feel your roots hold me in return.
Under the pressure to withstand, when I feel and share my roots I need not push away those that cast shadows.
We need not struggle to find our way alone.
As I lend strength, I find security.
As I steady others, we stand together,
equally thriving,
despite the fog.

Someone reminded me this week that I am a grown up. As such, I have the capacity to care for myself, even survive on my own, and I have the luxury of absolute choice.
Sure, I know I am a grown up and can make choices but I still have the fear of a child. I fear making choices that will be wrong, cause suffering, or result in bad consequences.
As I further consider my power of choice, I am just now realizing that perhaps there are no right or wrong consequences. There really is no good versus bad. I do not need to avoid a choice because the outcome is not crystal clear or safe enough to follow through on.
I can chose to do or not do anything. Yes it comes with consequences but it also cultivates freedom.
Each consequence is simply another opportunity for choice, an opportunity to play more confidently and creatively with my power to choose.
Karma, choice in action, is not the punishment that results from my choices but the next actions available to me as a result of my choosing.
I do not need to avoid choices or fear consequences any more. I am a grown up. I just need to be ready to make the next choice.

Harmony begins with
befriending myself.
Relying on me
to validate who I am.
Ready to stand today,
not alone,
but in my own-ness.
Seeking not to change
who you are
or have you define me.
Rather, changing my
perspective and
choosing with great care
relationships
that inspire
only
my own
vivacious,
joyful,
powerful,
truest
Self.

Even in the presence of the greatest fear or anger, I can exercise refined goodwill, fluid kindness…grace. Tactfully navigating life’s challenges is one of the greatest opportunities we have to embody love. Not just in the big confrontations but in the small everyday exchanges.

Some people come into our lives to feed us and some to be fed. On the rare occasion we find someone who is both.

What is regular? Normal? The way things are “supposed to be?”
It seems our nature is to crave stability and consistency, to look around us for the expected.
Can the expected really be a constant pattern of change, redefined based on circumstances?
In the fall every tree chooses a slightly different timing and color and pattern of change based on its relationship with the earth, the air, and its surroundings.
Even the evergreen loses some leaves, changes shape, and becomes something different year after year.
This shifting is considered beautiful, an often awe-inspiring evolution.
No tree taking the exact same steps, no one looking the same, yet all normal, regular, naturally changing.
This change allows the tree to thrive.
I must remember there is no right or wrong in change, simply an opportunity to be unafraid, vulnerable, and resilient.
Think about the possibility.