I can.
I will.
I am.
Because someone needs it.
My voice,
my intellect,
my pulchritude,
my courage,
my strength,
my kindness,
my grace,
deserve to be
seen,
heard,
felt,
held.
I will make a big, beautiful, bold, magnificent mark on the world…
Because I already have.
Flock to my greatness.
Celebrate me.
Show me pure,
authentic,
loyal,
sweet,
daring,
unconditional love,
the same way I am showing up for you in this world.
It’s exhausting,
this blooming all the time.
Extracting every nutrient from my veins,
drawing and expending all the energy from my roots.
In my weakest and most depleted state,
this is when I am celebrated and noticed most,
colorful, exotic, intricate, beautiful.
Please stop seeking and suggesting my flowering as a sign of my flourishing.
Please applaud me as I hibernate, drop my leaves, and recoil into my quiet greening.
Please see my faded and dying petals as a sign of my capacity to grow.
Allow me to impress you not by blossoming,
but by being.
Loss and grief are proof that you have loved.
Love is the gateway to joy,
joy to peace.
You have loved and
known the essence of being loved.
Let the suffering move through you.
Rip yourself open with this grief.
Purify yourself with tears.
Beat your fists on the ground.
Pound your aching heart.
Take and give every punch with gratitude.
Shatter the barrier to feeling it all.
In the shallows of this darkness that accompany the pain,
Let every pain pour out.
Drop for a moment into the stillness,
this vast emptiness your refuge.
And, just as suddenly as the suffering began, a small space,
cleansed by your tears,
and broken open through your courage,
will begin to fill with sweetness, softness, kindness.
A slow, gradual unfolding will take place
as joy reveals itself
shyly,
purely,
authentically,
and more richly
than ever before,
because you have loved
and are willing to love and be loved again.
Are the flowers each their own?
Are their petals each their own?
To whom do the seeds and leaves belong?
Do they come together to complete the plant?
Is the plant completing them?
Are the flowers extensions of the plant?
Could one survive without the other?
Each part grows uniquely,
in its own special way,
and still, they all contribute to something bigger.
Each part is invited to do their own work,
and to serve one another.
Each part seems separate
and yet only together
do they truly flourish.
Open the box.
Release the wounded,
dejected, and painful parts.
Be not afraid
that they will multiply
or grow bigger
if you let them out,
for as soon as
you hold them
on a platform
to be seen,
they become
fragile,
small,
sweet,
needing nothing
more than the space to dissolve,
into the open air,
into the rolling sea
of being,
where they become
nourishment
for our greatest
dreams,
successes,
and gifts.
The field is bloodied.
Swords scattered and strewn.
In the distance, flowers bloom and a river runs cool and deep.
Who are the victors and what have they gained?
What have the defeated truly lost?
Conflict is inevitable but the results are a choice.
To be a victor without gloating.
To be defeated without wallowing.
To receive and face all that comes without fear.
Each day I have the potential to find strength,
balance,
and humility,
regardless of which end of the sword I face.
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At the heart of all is love.
At the heart of me is love.
It’s ok to be skeptical.
No need to be clear or believe it,
And it’s still true.
Everything is working for me.
I need not soften into the knowing.
I can breathe and stand in this,
or I can struggle and resist,
and it will still happen – I am being.
I occupy this space, knowing that no one occupies this space like me.
Big or small,
tall or coiled,
heavy or light,
bold or shy,
free or bound.
The heart of me remains unchanged.
The heart of you remains unchanged.
The heart of all remains of love.
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I fly out over the waves I call my home in search of nourishment.
In my seeking, I drift farther and farther from my nest.
Eventually, I am too tired to go on.
As I land, I find completely unfamiliar surroundings.
So unnerving, the experience of stepping out of the familiar, even when it’s for my own survival.
Do I retrace my steps and return to what was and where I came from, scavenging and settling for the scraps?
Do I settle into this new space and look ahead, embracing the unfamiliar and uncertain?
I can turn back or I can stand on these new shores.
I can forage and discover.
I pause and tuck under my wings where I find a consistent space of solace and reassurance,
to rest, to calm, and regain focus,
Here, I remember that to truly nourish myself,
I just may need to take flight and perch on new frontiers.
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In this moment,
I set down expectations and any sense that I am not already successful.
I am comfortable, confident, clear.
I replace striving with thriving.
I feel a flood of grace, ease, and acceptance.
Assuredness steps in to remind me that I don’t need to overcome.
I simply need to become.
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The wind determines what I hear.
My eyes inform what I see.
The body interprets what I sense.
Thoughts form from what I hear, see, and feel as an experience.
Beliefs cling to these thoughts and this experience as truth,
setting emotions into action and reaction.
In reality, if there is such a thing, it is all just a choice, interpretation best when it comes not from my beliefs but in what I choose to believe.
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Monday Mindfulness 