To the north I find the earth and sky.
The east brings new beginnings.
The west lowers the veil of transition, the mark of endings.
It is in the south where I meet my soul.
We sit and watch the rising and setting sun cast against the earth and sky over and over again.
Humbly and joyfully admiring the ever changing landscape of transitions, the beauty in the unknown as it takes shape each dawn and dusk, and the vast expanse of opportunity in between.
When you bump up against something unfamiliar or uncomfortable,
it’s just a reminder of what you love.
Photo courtesy of Shari Irby.
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.
It’s a great gift we receive in every energetic exchange that we experience – the opportunity to…
absorb
utilize
diffuse
relegate
release
or give away
our power.
Feeling into your power or letting it go needs no special circumstances or conditions. It’s simply a choice.
Every time a choice…
Will I feel into my power
Or will I let it go?
Every time a choice.
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.
How often I stand in this being of me, just not sure what I see.
Insecurity on the inside
Appears as rejection on the outside.
Longing for love and positive connections
Show up as judgment and disappointment from others.
Feelings of shame and inadequacy
Manifest as attacks of anger and disgust.
The stories build not on what is really surrounding me but in the distorted view I have of the reflections.
My experiences and relationships are like a hall of mirrors.
The distortion produces more distortion until the internal and external judgment and criticism becomes too great to bear.
And then, I let go of the differences, weaknesses, faults.
I soften the gaze.
I let the edges of everything blur.
And then I see it is all just me.
I become curious not about what I see in the endless reflections in the mirrors, but in the source of the projection.
In each moment
there exists a small space
of contentment.
It is our work
to come back to this space,
again,
and
again,
and
again
and
again
until with every moment
our first feeling
is one of contentment.
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.
Shifting
Swirling
Overlapping
Never separate
Never fully one
Dark and light blending
No clear definition
Stormy or clearing
All sources of nourishment
Endless gifts
Purpose in all.
Cracks in the foundation.
Gotta dig deeper.
Move more dirt.
Secure the footings.
Rising fear like flooding waters.
Climbing higher
Full of frailty
Mounting doubt
Insecurity
in the instability
existence threatened
Could it all crumble?
Maybe it should.
Digging deep.
