One day this single path abruptly split in two.
The potential in both directions was intriguing and alluring,
albeit a bit daunting.
The split itself brought much spaciousness and beauty,
a chance to pause and survey the widespread landscape of the past and present,
confirming there could be no wrong steps forward,
the divide simply an invitation to reawaken to this journey
and joyfully take the next step.
The shadow of the leaf.
A lingering impression it makes as the sun touches the earth,
predictable, recognizable, seemingly unchanging.
And then the moon eclipses the sun.
The angle of light shifts as it shines on the earth.
Shadows arc and transform just as freely as the leaf dances in the wind,
fully capable of showing up differently.
This newness thrills and enlivens me,
as the old ways woo me with protection and predictability.
It’s exhausting,
at times,
this dance!
Leaving it all behind too quickly there is no room to pause,
to catch my breath,
to reset.
Slowing too much
makes it difficult to find a rhythm in the steps.
and so I spin
and twirl
and feel my breath and body
slightly losing control,
occasionally stepping out of sequence,
joyfully embracing the imperfection,
and that’s when I know
I’m doing it right.
I stop to touch the tree trunk as I walk by.
My nose perceives the sweetness of bright white clusters of flowers on the horizon and the moistness of the ground beneath me.
I watch as stillness and movement come and go.
I sense the invisible currents of the air
that bring me sounds,
some familiar and many more curious.
This is the work of being on this earth.
Not leaving memories,
but making them.
I am so powerful that I can command my own suffering to inform change.
I am so creative that I can find solutions to the underlying mysteries of my experiences.
I am so brave that I can step into my full consciousness and awareness with grace.
I am so smart that I can turn to love, kindness, and joy at any moment,
cultivating it within and inspiring it around me,
even in a world focused on being something else.
The air turns cool.
Sound becomes distorted.
Sight goes offline.
Simultaneous smallness and vastness set in.
Swaddled simplicity meets rattled uncertainty.
The compass loses its point of focus,
directionality irrelevant.
Bending and moving through unfamiliar spaces,
offering lessons in courage,
the darkness is only temporary.
In her enormity,
unruliness,
and most unyielding state,
she is soft,
subtle,
clear in her direction,
ever capable of moving,
shifting,
adapting,
aligned,
attuned,
resonate,
in her power
and beauty.
We drink of her,
ride upon her crests,
sink cradled in her stillness,
follow her home,
allow her to absorb our burdens,
as we find peace by her side.
She reflects back to us always
what we need most to see.
The light turns green.
Out of the depot pours the continuous stream of yellow-orange pods.
They move like ants,
single file at first,
jockeying for the lead,
then dispersing.
Like homing pigeons
with seemingly choreographed maneuvers,
they dance across the dashed lines and in between the rows of trees.
They scurry off to their destinations,
one single mission,
primed to transport their precious cargo,
conveyors of potentiality.
If our morals and beliefs suggest that we should all
love,
support,
and guide one another,
then wouldn’t true,
authentic
moral conviction
show up in the form of
grace
and forgiveness,
not shackles?
A calling back of the misguided to the embrace of
patience and gentleness,
not humiliation
and chastisement.
The invitation
to not be isolated,
but to come closer.
To take accountability.
To grieve in communion
for the loss
of others wounded by their actions
and
for their own internal suffering.
To wail in the arms of
a community
that shoulders mistakes,
missteps,
and misdeeds,
with understanding and humility,
no matter how egregious
on the surface.
To shed tears together to cleanse,
not punish,
embrace,
not discard,
teach,
not convict.
In the space of silence and stillness,
there is an enormous void,
fabulous,
wide open,
freeing.
Or hollow,
isolating,
lonely?
It is one space.
In encountering this space,
there is a choice made instantly.
Inquiry,
assessment,
judgment
all rush in to
analyze,
identify,
interpret.
The recoiling in the stark emptiness is natural –
that moment when the stillness startles and unnerves as it presses against the constricting familiar.
And, each and every time,
that space can be met with
curiosity or fear,
acceptance or resistance.
It is the potentiality that resides in the peace of the heart.
It is a choice to receive it
as a gift
or a challenge
when feeling so fully
and completely
into ourselves.
Monday Mindfulness 