I ask not that you change or conform.
You need not worry if who I am is not who you want me to be.
Let’s not need to hold hands in unity,
but hold hearts with respect.
I will not squash who I am,
or expect you to assimilate.
Even if I do not walk in your shoes, I offer you accompaniment,
so that we are both seen and heard and the rhythm and
harmony of our movement through life,
offers a flavorful contrast
for all the world to remember
the value of their own melody.
The gift of sight is precious.
And the gift of sight quite limiting.
Energy bent,
refracted,
contorted,
to fit the confines of the mind.
Even with eyes closed,
the mind is seeing.
All of it fabricated.
If the image banks once overflowing were purged,
all unseen,
what would remain?
The seer.
The knower behind and beyond the images.
The opportunity to reimagine,
as in dreams,
as in daydreams,
as in reality,
all for the sake of being seen.
I came into this world knowing only me.
Somewhere along the way,
As I grew to know there were others,
I let them define who I came to be.
I thought I should follow.
And as a child, like a duckling, I did.
For that was my only sure source of food, shelter, survival.
But along the way, I noticed
I could forage, swim, and tuck my beak into my own wings
in a way unique to me.
It didn’t mean the others were wrong…
I just didn’t seem to be an exact fit to how they did these things.
I wrestled with knowing that I could make it on my own.
I convinced myself that I still needed to follow and be how and what they dictated.
And then one day, I gave it a small try.
I wandered a little farther away.
I showed up last to the waters edge.
I sat a bit longer in the sun than the rest.
There I found ease and a new sense of knowing.
The aloneness still haunts me from time to time as I am now no longer part of that brood.
And yes swimming on my own takes a new kind of effort.
But I’ve noticed
The others haven’t gone away.
Just their influence over my choices has.
Now we search for food near each other but don’t have to fight for the same piece.
We gather closer together when we need warmth and give space as needed.
We swim in the same waters but no longer in each other’s wake.
It’s a new way of existing,
This coming back to knowing me,
And it seems to be just the way it is supposed to be.
Pain provides an opportunity to turn towards lessons and lessening or to adopt as a wounded state as a part of identity.
For sure, the wave of wound on the heels of pain can feel logical and essential. It may perhaps be needed in order to make a choice. The wound from pain can be like a riptide that is easy to get caught in…that can provide great struggle and even the potential to drown.
However, to ride that current, perhaps even begin to understand it’s make up and direction and feel more fully into it just briefly, produces the wisdom to release the struggle and be propelled to its edges by its own force.
Without resistance, the riptide has nothing to hold onto and pushes away what it cannot drag down.
In due time, the churning and swirling when met with curiosity, tenderness, and patience has the capacity to deliver an object once more to calm and safe waters.
It is in returning to this calm space where wisdom is found…the pain lessened and the wound converted to a lesson.
While woundnedness perpetuates a perceived lack of safety imposed externally, wisdom reinforces the notion that safety is created in the choice to experience but not drown in the wound.
While ideally the sea of life hopes to offer smooth, calm, clear waters, it also aspires to shape future landscapes and to never remain the same, retaining unintentially in its purpose the potential for pain.
And in this way, there lie endless opportunities to ride or resist, to learn or succumb.
Along the creek’s edge,
water swiftly flowing,
slippery mud warns of the potential danger in crossing.
Yet here I am, knowing this is the way to go.
I watch as the current jets and swerves around the moss and algae covered rocks scattered in the creek.
I find the most narrow crossing and yet it seems like still an impassible ravine.
My body tightens with anxiety,
For a moment I choose fear in response to this opportunity to move in a new direction.
In the tightening, frozen, I am,
dreading staying where I am equally to where I know I must go.
Then the anxiety speaks more loudly.
My breath grabs at my chest.
Sweat speckles my skin.
I must make the crossing.
That is my destiny.
I step out onto one rock and
with breath unconvinced of my safety the path begins to unfold.
I pause.
Instead of dashing quickly across the precariously and wide spread rocks,
I reach out to the rock before me and test its steadiness.
In the past I might not have made a connection – I might have tried to move urgently, wobbly and unsure, holding my breath and perhaps even crashing in the cold rushing water…blaming the rocks.
Today, my anxiety informs me of my power to pause,
to narrow my attention, my body, and my focus.
I don’t need to take the path as it is.
I tense not with fear but with agency as I move my muscles into action.
I reach down and shift the unsteady rock before me.
It’s heavy and at first won’t move.
So I narrow and tighten more until I funnel the tightness into strength.
The rock moves…and so do the others beyond it…and so do I.
The rocks settle.
I settle.
My chest releases.
My breath deepens.
My body advances forward,
grounded and a bit more sure.
There are a few more stones to go but I now know I don’t need to take them as they are.
I can make the path my own as I find my way.
I had no idea that as I tore down the wall to rescue my abandoned self that I would nearly smother in the rubble.
Even when loss is experienced in a way that relieves abuse, abandonment and betrayal, the disruption it causes and the pain of breaking through the barriers to healing oneself are great.
And those who helped to build the wall, who reveled in the obstructing and ostracizing of that true self, walk away unphased by the devastation left behind. They go on to build thicker walls around themselves and others.
While their departure ensures the wall they left behind is not reinforced, it hurts that they do nothing to help remove the heavy stones, broken shards, and pieces of what they worked so relentlessly to build.
That burden rests on the shoulders of the self behind the wall. One by one the stones are slid aside. The dust settles. The light starts to shine through the piles and pieces as the opening grows wider and wider.
The power in seeing that self emerge, pale and weak at first – labored breathing, heavy and slow moving, still patiently and methodically forging ahead and finding its way – is so sweet to witness…even in its efforting.
That self digging out from the rubble need not feel animosity, anger, or resentment. No, that self is not needing to be rescued.
That self is triumphing in the freedom of self-acknowledgment, self-care, and self-worth.
Much of the power in healing comes from the self not needing to be rescued. The power is in putting aside the rubble and freeing oneself.
Today I want to be a tree,
providing steadiness and sturdiness in the world,
receiving assuredness and ease,
knowing precisely where I stand.
Anchored in the strength of the earth.
Expanding gently, respectfully and gratefully into the air and space of others.
I want to be a source of clearing of thoughts,
feelings,
worries,
suffering,
not absorbing it as my own,
simply removing the impurities and toxins.
I want to breathe in and receive
the light
the water
the nourishment of family and friends
the success of work
the richness of creation.
to feel my beautiful roots and my capacity to grow endlessly upward and outward.
I embrace the simultaneously simple and complex nature of me
Inviting gratitude and joy as my guides
Growing ever stronger and steadier in who I am
and how I show up in the world.
Life force
breath
heals
softens
opens
the body
relaxes
the mind
promotes
courage
offers
ease
and
fuels
my
power.
Still
grateful
gentle
kind
accepting
breathing
I am
a great
force
of energy.
Feeling
healthy
and
strong
in the
soft
and
caring
rest
slowness
and
power
in my
every
breath.
Challenge can breed fear.
Fear fosters insecurity.
Insecurity inhibits growth.
Growth is a fundamental quality of living.
With growth we can overcome fear.
With every little bit of fear we face
We grow and that growth produces wider bands of safety
Making the next challenge a little easier to face,
Until more and more often the challenges yield directly to growth over fear,
And growth becomes the natural next step closer to joy.
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.
Monday Mindfulness 