I send messages to myself in little ways to care more, nourish better, rest more fully, And then I blatantly ignore those messages.
I harden on the outside, contract on the inside, and push on at the most critical junctures because sometimes it’s easier to set myself up for the transition by considering myself broken and needing fixing.
So I let myself become weak, vulnerable, malnourished just so I can love and tend to myself.
It seems an innate component of the mechanics of being that sometimes we need to breakdown to build up.
With each breath, feigning an attempt to soften the tension in my muscles.
Always on high alert, my body is the ever faithful soldier standing at attention, ready to advance, attack, or defend.
My thoughts and feeling providing constant counsel, conducting their business at all hours of the day and night as if essential personnel.
It is a strange request I make that all the components that serve me in my daily busy-ness are called upon now to rest.
They are troubled by this pause as it could imply they may no longer be needed. They resist – the body…the mind…the emotions that want to protect and define me.
And yet, a strange and delightful spaciousness coats my experience when I am willing to just sit down and breathe.
It frees them all to not disappear but to serve me better. They become my friends, sipping tea on the deck, holding hands and dancing in the absence of mission and doing.
Oh, the joy of knowing my thoughts, my feelings, my body in the absence of need.
We rest here for a bit together, finding a freshness in how we coexist…
Suddenly the water rushes in carrying us to unfamiliar spaces.
Momentarily stunned with uncertainty this new uncomfortable vantage point becomes home.
Gradually settling into a new way of being and heading in a new direction provided solely by the force of another.
Sensing the way, knowing now a different path.
Facing challenges and significant dangers, but moving forward just the same… determined to make good on this shift.
With the pouring rain comes fresh possibilities to establish new pattens, make new discoveries, test adaptability, and make good in the face of adversity.
Do not worry, my friend…we know the way. To stumble or feel unsure does not require that we abandon the walk. Rather, it is simply calling upon us to step more genuinely and confidently across the stones, to move more freely to the rhythm of our own knowing. We have been preparing to walk these stones, this path, for a lifetime. You know the way.
Just because I tolerate your actions does not mean I condone them.
It does not mean they do not wound me, make me bristle or rattle my confidence in my own internal guidance systems.
Tolerance simply means that I am giving you room to be you – to learn and teach us both through your actions – to allow us to explore anger and fear, but also know patience, compassion, and forgiveness.
Tolerance is grace flexing its muscles. Tolerance is the power of my will to know my truth and allow you to explore yours.
Gliding across the still lake, the swan appears motionless…blending in, yet standing out.
There is an ease to the swan’s movements – small segments of being pieced together to produce strong, elegant, fluid motion…unfolding in a seemless, timeless, effortless evolution.
The swan goes not against the current, but blends into it, rides it, and collaborates with it to create a presence and ease that cannot help but draw the breath from me.
Attuning to the breath, I begin to realize the power and simplicity in the life force that moves so strong, elegantly, and fluidly through me. With refinement of its movement, the breath becomes balanced and smooth. A fullness and simulaneous sense of roaring power and simple stillness come as each segment fully aligns.
In that very breath, I am the swan. In that very breath, I know grace.
Thought I had the shower all to myself.  Turns out a little frog thought the same.
As I hurried around the corner to turn on the water, it sprung from the wall to the ground with a giant splat. The sound was enormous!
My heart recoiled at the explosion. Fear grabbed me. It pulled the breath from my chest. My body tensed from head to toe ready to respond. My mind raced through the options…fight…or…flee…I froze.
It was at that moment I wondered – if I hadn’t been in such a hurry, if I hadn’t been so distracted with thoughts and urgency, would I have had the same reaction?
If I had been truly present and more attuned to my surroundings, would I have rounded the corner more gently? Would the frog and I perhaps have exchanged a glance but then carried on with our business?
Because I was in such a hurry and so distracted, I had created an unsettled space for both the frog and me.
Oh, how fear takes advantage of us and sneaks in to catch us when we are off balance. And how our actions impact others’ experiences. That poor frog would certainly have benefited from a little more care and focus from me…and I would have actually been able to get a shower instead of taking that time to sort through my surging fears and emotions.
Monday Mindfulness 