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

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.

The harder I rattle the cage, The tighter the confines become.
The more I strive for spaciousness, the more suffocating and unfruitful my actions.
Moved by desire, lofty outcomes in place, I remain caught up in my belief that freedom, success, and wholeness are not attainable…there is always one more sticker to put on the chart before I can experience that reward.
When I put aside the roadblocks of desire and achievement and allow true being to flow, there is still plenty of room for me to thrive and the world to know my magnificence, right here, right now, just the way I am.

Sitting here amongst the relics of old memories and life experiences, the edges now crumbled, some barely recognizable in their origin, purpose or story.
Just formed yesterday or residue of my ancestors’ journeys, the structure erodes.
There is sadness and longing in the erosion.
As the structure of what was folds back into the landscape, the experiences of yesterday become the soft touch of wind on my skin, the journey of tomorrow the warm light in the sky before me,
I need nothing more than the light and wind to remind me of where I have been and where I might next go.
The memories eroding in my mind become the bedrock of my being.

I am not broken.
I am not fragile.
But I am deserving of your kindness.
I do not have to have something wrong with me for you to hold me in your grace, comfort me, love me.
Let me be strong, smart, brave, and wrapped in your love…
and I will do the same for you.
Then, maybe our hurts won’t need to be so big, so often.

Let’s just meet on a little branch somewhere,
nestled in between the flowers,
shaded by a tall leafy tree.
We can find a little nourishment,
share a little love,
not limited by the constructs of time
or burdened by emotions or heavy thoughts.
Let’s meet on a little branch somewhere
and consider doing this more often.

Connection is at the core of communication. How I feel about you and what you say is directly tied to my beliefs about myself. My stories and patterns of reaction determine the fruits of our interactions. So, in order to communicate effectively, I must leave you to your own beliefs and stories and simply tune my vibration to what feels good. When I leave all that other stuff out of it, I find authentic and harmonious connection in every communication.

Funny how you work so hard for something to be over and then when you are done there is a sense of sadness or loss.
Don’t get me wrong, there is still plenty of room for joy in letting go but the habit that developed is going to take some time to get over.
Maybe grief isn’t so much about doing without as much as it’s about breaking a habit and finding comfort in a new routine.

Right there, in between the meandering branches of my life,
the shifting sands of time,
the ebbing and flowing waters of my mind,
and the soft current that carries my heart,
there is a bright and constant light
that moves and shines through my existence,
the steady point that reminds and renews me over and over again,
guiding me back like a porch light,
to the warm, quiet, stillness of my eternal home within.
Photo credit: Brian Danahy (from the port of Mykanos, Greece)

Caught my finger briefly in the door.
Intense sensation.
Rush of pain.
Momentarily immobilized.
No blood, no mark, and yet I felt such an enormous affront.
Breath gradually returns.
Senses calm.
Back to OK.
Realizing how deceiving hurts can be on the outside…no way to know how the hurt is unfolding on the inside.
What seems like such a minor encounter could feel quite crushing on the inside.
Perhaps it would serve best to judge less and avoid assessing whether feeling hurt is appropriate and rather focus on finding the way back to OK.