Monday Mindfulness

Cultivating Strength, Joy, Calm & Resilience


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Fearless Living

Once there was an old belief that said,

“I am afraid…afraid of hurting others because I feel their hurt as if my own…hurting others jeopardizes my relationships and in that I run the risk of feeling their anger or worse, their scorn and disappointment. It is better to deny my joy than risk upsetting theirs.”

For a long, long time that belief walked confidently along its path unhindered. One day, it stumbled on that well worn path upon a rock of joy. It tripped over pebbles of power, and fell upon a bolder of truthfulness. As the belief lost its balance, it fell into a net of beautiful jewels all connected by a golden thread of love, of creativity, kindness, and great joy.

The belief grasped at the edges of the path, grappled with the sensation of free falling, longing for the predictable order of its existence. In the blinding beauty of the sparkling jewels, the belief had no choice but to release its fear, to drop into the wide and open net, to be held by a greater force in the space of free will and joy.

Gradually, the belief allowed itself to let go of the path and discovered its power to attract truthfulness and joy. It found that in that vibration there was no room for fear, hurt, or loneliness…only love.


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Bursting with Power

It doesn’t matter how much power you have if you don’t allow it to burst out and serve you.

So many times I have used my power to suppress my own needs, my voice, my self-advocacy…all for the sake of “preserving the peace.” But, how can peace be preserved when a battle rages within me to suppress my own feelings and needs simply to avoid the risk of imploring you to revel in my power to know myself. Ah, yes, there is a chance that you will be wounded in the wake of my power, but that wound I can hold with much greater compassion than the devastation that comes from turning my power against myself.

My power transforms from exploding within to bright and shining rays of love and truth when authentically attuned. I begin to recognize that honesty is a demonstration of true prowess and the recognition of woundedness an opportunity to be powerful in kindness, forgiveness, and grace.

My power magnifies when I allow it to burst out and serve me, so much so that it can hold all of the discomfort, all of the woundedness, all of the needs and feelings — yours and mine – and in that outburst peace is preserved.


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Living in the space of AND

White flowers

Dark textures

Straight lines

Soft edges

Living wholeness

Dried pieces

Flowing lines

Still emptiness

Warm touches

Cool feeling

Hope and breath

In the spaces

Photo courtesy of Susan Kerr.


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Bad and Beautiful

The Ackland Museum at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill just hosted an exhibit entitled “Good Object/Bad Object,” inviting visitors to examine works of art that defy customary decorum and could be called “bad” because they are unpredictably designed yet they achieve an emotional depth and resonant beauty equal to “good” art.

Bad objects are opportunities to explore the edge of our comfort zone and try on new ways of seeing the world.

When the role is taken on responsibly, a bad object can be the catalyst of change and inspire different thinking.

Isn’t it interesting how quickly we humans need to label things as good or bad when often those characteristics are circumstantial. Nature doesn’t operate that way.

In humans, often when a bad object occurs without sufficient planning and understanding, the artist might become defensive or even resentful, denying accountability for their creation. If they have not been provided the encouragement and freedom to create outside of traditional constructs, the artist might try to hide the bad object, its potential emotional depth and beauty lost.

More often than not these days I find myself stronger, more confident, and more accomplished when I step into the role of “bad object.” It is not that I am not good at these times. It is that I willingly take responsibility for non-conforming, breaking a patterned interaction, and inciting a shift in perspective to achieve a familiar level of resonance in an unfamiliar way.

There is a role for each of us as good objects and bad objects. The contrast reminds us of our undeniable ability to contain emotional depth and resonant beauty in the most surprising ways.


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As The Wind Blows

I am made of grace

Flowing and free

A mystery force

Unseen yet felt

Barreling through corridors

Softly pressing against your body

Making my way.

Often unnoticed

Unappreciated

Lonely at times

Ignored unless I rage

Stoking flames

Tipping trees

Whipping myself around wildly

Roaring in your ears.

Do you notice my work

Clearing old leaves from the trees,

Making wild flowers dance,

Brightening your cheeks?

Or are you only frustrated

As I muss your hair,

Push against you,

Rip through your windows?

Invite me in,

Swirl with me,

Experience my grace as your own.

Help me avoid the need to burst into flames

Or wither to nothing just to be noticed,

To feel connected to you.

Honor not just my ferociousness

But the power in my grace.


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The Power

Rolling in, rolling out.

The waves may be big. The waves may be small.

There may be great space between or a quickness that causes me uneasiness.

For a moment I feel unsteady, unable to trust. Is it the waves or is it me I doubt?

I soften and focus my awareness.

I find a rhythmic ebb and flow within.

Doubt disappears as my internal rhythms take over. I settle into the flow.

I create the ease that I crave. I am not the waves.

I am not the fear.

I am the power behind it all.


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Dream on!

Your dreams are never out of reach.

Because they are yours to touch, change, create or release at any time.

They can never be bigger, scarier, or beyond you because they are an extension of you,

Here to serve you,

Linked to your greatest potential,

Always with the intention of informing your highest good.


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Contain Me

For each of us there is a layer that surrounds and holds our thoughts and feelings, that ties physical material existence to a sense of being. Built into the walls of that container are our beliefs, values, and desires, ever connected and blending with the feelings of others. These characteristics are what give the container strength but can also become places of vulnerability, weakness, and destruction. Stress fractures can begin to appear over time in the container where the values, beliefs, and habits are challenged, become inflexible and brittle.

Signs of wear or weakness are not markers of fault in the container, but a means for assessing whether repair or replacement could be useful. It may be the values and beliefs woven into that section are ready for reconditioning.

When I visualize the materials, tools, and mending — stitching the fabric, soldering the metal, molding the clay – and give myself permission to reshape the container, perhaps even layering different media, I can begin to fill and empty with experiences in a way that projects and protects the me I have come to be.


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Badlands

I stand at the edge of what appears to be a barren and desolate canyon, seemingly incapable of supporting my growth.

Between the jagged and piercing crevasses, I reach down and discover I don’t need as much as I thought to thrive – simple and small gifts of connection are enough to sustain me. Humility, patience, and kindness soften the edges of the canyon like a gentle rain just enough to allow me to take hold and flourish.

Here I learn of my own fortitude and resilience. Here I may appear to stand out but it’s really just where I belong.


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Badlands

I stand at the edge of what appears to be a barren and desolate canyon, seemingly incapable of supporting my growth.

Between the jagged and piercing crevasses, I reach down and discover I don’t need as much as I thought to thrive – simple and small gifts of connection are enough to sustain me. Humility, patience, and kindness soften the edges of the canyon like a gentle rain just enough to allow me to take hold and flourish.

Here I learn of my own fortitude and resilience. Here I may appear to stand out but it’s really just where I belong.