Follow the path of a straight line or spiral as you grow…either way the sky is the limit.
There is a tendency for us to focus on the negative in the situations that are unfolding around us – to see the hate, the violence, the suffering, the injustices. We may see where we are and what is happening around us as a time of struggle, hopelessness, despair, darkness. We worry about what life will be like tomorrow. We may even fear hardship for our children as if the world around us is falling apart.
But our children are not afraid. They have confidence, perhaps just like we did when we were younger, that they are simply learning and evolving. They have a deep knowing that where we are today is an opportunity for them to succeed tomorrow. Those who are following their internal GPS are filled with hope.
So maybe instead of fretting about the politics, being angry about the hate and violence, and focusing on what is wrong or lacking, we are meant to relax into this darkness so that we can discover the light and have confidence in our children to know the way. Maybe what we see happening around us and to us today are actually the stepping stones our children need to lead us all to happiness, peace, and universal love tomorrow.
If there is ever a time when I feel lost, overwhelmed or confused by the voices of mind and emotions, I need only to take a deep breath. Like a giant bright-colored arrow, my breath points me right back to the space of my heart. Each inhale reminds me of the limitlessness of my self knowing. With each exhale I find the power to trust the truth in my heart, to fearlessly and squarely face whatever lies before me, inside or out. There I find true courage.
My mind says the work shows my value.
My emotions say the work provides purpose.
But my body say the work is tiring.
When out of balance, my body knows suffering, strain and illness.
It goes along with the plan for quite some time until systems become so taxed that it begins to breakdown, accelerating the natural limitlessness of this container.
And still I push on, the ego shouting louder about value and emotions crying for purpose.
Desperate for ease and repair the body collapses.
Foolishly, I believe that this is the only way.
Until I start to listen.
I hear my body’s call for balance now long before exhaustion.
I put down the baton and slow the doing.
And I rest.
And I rest.
Sometimes it’s hard to turn off the voices of the doing, the voices of the wanting.
But it is in the space of rest where the tiny voice inside of me reminds me that greater value and purpose is born of nurturing.
Of nurturing this body, this mind, this heart.
Not just feeding, but honoring and loving, all of these aspects of me equally.
In this space, the desire to do and be something blends with the peace and stillness and then it becomes crystal clear that I need nothing more.
It is in the quiet space of rest where I am most powerful, most beautiful, and undeniably most complete.
How is it this cut flower, detached from its roots, has the capacity to re-grow itself, to expand in a new form, and when it seems to be at the end of its existence is capable of new life?
I keep joy by my bedside
Nestled in shells that sing the song of freedom
And the flickering light of grace in my heart
To remind me that I am love
To remind me that all is love.
Snowflakes are gently falling, wet, heavy, cold. The air is still. Yet, as if aligned with a predetermined path down, they fall, curling and dancing on invisible threads. How beautifully and carefully they weave the fabric of the newly formed blanket of white.
The landscape now changes. Familiar objects and colors fade as I grasp for their memories. Each flake masking more and more of what I know, as more of my roots and my foundation fade.
They blur my vision as they spin and race to weave the blanket. They only create the illusion that what I know is no more.
For when I pause to breathe, I see. These dancing flakes inspire a new kind of looking, as if through a clouded window that needs to be cleared. My breath the cloth that wipes the window clean.
Faith reminds me that I know where I am, who I am, even as all I know disappears under the blanket.
And then, almost as quickly as the storm started, the flurry ends. Almost as quickly as they appeared the flakes melt away.
With this new moment, the sun shines. With this new moment, rays of light now dance on the same threads that wove the blanket.
Once more I am reunited with the familiar. Finding my roots and the landscape just as I had left it – once buried, never lost.