Feet to the earth,
Surrounded by air.
Sounds of rustling leaves, branches, and brush accompany every step.
The whispers and shadows of the forest
offer glimpses of light and dark,
solemn quiet and crashing thunder,
scents of decay and signs of new birth.
Never alone, the choice always exists.
To walk with the
doubting self,
the fearful heart,
the closed mind.
Or to soften into
the grace,
the power,
the love,
and
the joy
of choosing
to walk alone
through these woods.
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.
What would happen if I unleashed my wild self?
The parts of me that move freely, wisely, and instinctively.
If I tore off the garments of social norms and constraints that subconsciously influence my thought patterns and actions?
What if I could be in control and uninhibited?
Harness my passions and balance discipline with fearlessness.
Could I harmoniously exist between the light of rationality and the darkness where my wild, latent parts reside?
Can I embrace and express the dual aspects within me of passion and wisdom, freedom and structure, consciousness and instinct?
In honing my adaptability, I find the courage to assert the authenticity of my multifaceted self,
To roam freely yet wisely under the moon,
To unleash the inner beast and utilize knowledge and intuition to fully experience life,
and for life to fully experience me.
Across the barren soil of imagination are strewn seeds of desire.
They float through the air like translucent orbs, barely noticeable.
Gradually, they land, softly burrowing into the jagged and uneven ground before them.
They are compelled to nestle in,
trusting that as they are swallowed up by the soil somehow this is what they need to grow.
And so they make themselves small, quiet and still,
compelled to sprout in time,
willing to grow slowly with care.
They will face the drought of unworthiness,
resistance as they break through and change the barren land,
impatience as they require much tending before they produce any flowers or fruit,
and fear that they may not survive at all.
The patient gardener knows this.
With an eye on the potential magnificence, beauty, and need for these seeds to flourish,
nurturing instead of forcing.
Waiting joyfully,
the gardener balances hope with knowing,
confident that with proper care, attention, consistency, and flexibility,
in due time these seeds will fully grow into their potential
and from them will come more translucent orbs ready to contribute to the wildest, most beautiful, richest landscape imaginable.
Sometimes the light is too bright.
It is quick, and big, and so expansive.
Uncomfortable.
Unfamiliar.
Intimidating.
Too adventurous.
It feels great,
But a little unsafe.
Taking sips.
Feeling cautious.
Going slow.
Becoming curious.
Letting it tingle and flicker.
Allowing glimmers of ease.
Breathe by breath,
Becoming just a little lighter,
Peeling open with an achiness and stiffness,
Untangling and unfurling,
Nourished and relaxed by the light.
Beginning to awaken and transition.
Now softness and trust expand.
Permission granted to feel,
To release,
To become
Something else.
Freedom to be, anew.
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.
Not coy,
confident.
Not tethered,
anchored.
Not drifting,
opening.
Rooted in the earth.
Expanding the mind,
not with thought derived from past experiences but with ideas inspired by the unknown.
Capable.
Clear.
Strong.
Assured not in the direction in which I will head but in the magnificence of who and where I am right now.
For when the stillness and quiet fade,
I will continue to embody grace and power.
I will not forget that I am
omnipotent.
For just a moment,
I breathe.
Stories begin to evaporate.
Expectations
Fear
Doubt
Dissipate
Ceasing to exist without the stories.
Spreading my fingers, I release the hold,
Unbridle the mind
Widen the heart
Let it all go.
Clearing spaces
I grow lighter
Longer
Looser
Expanding
Into lightness
I deepen my capacity
I feel into my power.
My power is
Joyful
Assured
Easy
Bright
Clear
Not taking on a particular form, shifting fluidly between states and forms as they serve me.
Diving into limitless potentiality
Alive with creativity
I can be
or do
anything
Or nothing.
Feeling into my greatness
There lies freedom to choose.
Growing
Into my capacity.
I am powerful
Whatever shape I choose.
I am not cold.
I am feeling.
I am not sad.
I am informing.
I am not striving.
I am opening.
I am not ignorant.
I am growing.
I am not disappointing.
I am redefining.
I am not disconnecting.
I am transforming.
In this discomfort
I find my greatest knowing
And the courage
to share it with you.
On the other side of the door
Is a bright spacious light
Guiding me into confidence,
Inviting my voice to be heard,
My gifts to be shared.
I replace worry with curiosity,
Hunger with satiation,
Hope with appreciation,
And old patterns and beliefs
With the great, beautiful unknown.
Flashes of doubt and distractions hold me back, producing a veiled illusion that I’m not ready.
I was born ready.
I am here to be curious.
I am here to expand,
To learn
To grow
To create again and again,
To step more and more into me.
The hinges are well-greased,
There are no locks.
Softly I focus my gaze,
Clear my throat,
Open my heart,
And turn the knob.
Monday Mindfulness 