There is a story in my body – a story of joy and a story of suffering, a story imprinted in my flesh of adopted beliefs and weathered patterns of being.
I have a belief. My body records it. With devotion to my higher good, my body informs me of my ways. It unfailingly wears my happiness, fears, pain, doubt, informing me through these tissues and bones in service to my heart, all knowing, all seeing.
My body hears my heart calling for a change in that belief, so it demonstrates the belief in physical form in order for me to transform it…on the physical level, the thinking level, the feeling level, the being level.
I pause to listen to the advice of this worn vessel and then almost as soon as I acknowledge the pattern in the body, the beliefs begin to dissolve, reshaping my existence, restoring my wellness.
The body lets go of tension, no longer gripping to accommodate the familiar. The battering patterns melt away, initiating a flow of healing…through the body, into the heart.
Have you ever noticed there is a natural rhythm to the flow of things? When you are in sync with that energetic rhythm there is no resistance – everything flows.
Try to push or pull against the natural flow of your experience and it causes turbulence, imbalance and the potential for unnecessary suffering.
To reduce the discomfort, increase the pause. Slow the looking and the feeling. Sip it in until you can interpret the rhythm.
When I connect with my breath – the rhythmic pattern of inhale and exhale – it shows me the resistance, the tension, and where there may be imbalance. I can chose to ride the breath as it is or invite a shift. Either way, I am getting into the flow, balancing on the crest, and engaging a more comfortable and sustainable way of being.
When I pulse instead of push – on the breath, on sounds, on tastes, on interactions with others, or my experiences – there is a symmetry and unending sense that all is OK.
I feel the rustling of the earth as outside the dawn awakens.
Sleep fell so swiftly upon me as the full moon watched over and with a new sense of soft inquiry my eyes flutter open. My awareness rustles with the sounds, colors and shifting environment around me. The morning presents itself to me, as my awareness awakens with the dawn.
In this moment, as my awareness shifts from my inner state of attachment to an interconnection with what is around me, I feel a different state of aliveness. An aliveness of knowing simultaneously what is happening on the inside and the outside of the container that I perceive as me.
This awareness is scintillating and soothing, clear and not completely definable. I am aware of all and nothing.
My awareness flutters and swirls like the newly arising birds that sing and dance just outside my window, tuned as well into the mystery of awakening.
It is in the awakening of the dawn that I can explore the awakening of my awareness. It is in the awakening of my awareness where I come closer to knowing the true sense of who I am…if I am who at all.
I begin to wrap myself in the dawning of this awakening. In donning my awareness, I welcome the awakening of this harmonious interconnection with all that is around me.
I stand at the window looking outward. Not noticing the shining sun or the beautiful signs of life flowering around me. Instead I focus on the water spots, dust, and debris collected on the window pane. I am quick to blame outside factors for my spotty view.
But then I remember that I can wipe that window clean. It is not a conspiracy that the rain and flowers and earth have stirred up and thrown at me. They are not trying to obstruct my view. Rather they invite me to step outside, to clear the lens, and look in to see the beauty that lies there.
And so each time that window gets dirty, I know it is just a reminder to brush off the outside and look within. And when I focus inward with clarity, what I see looking outward shines more brightly too.
Funny how we assign emotions, assume other’s perspectives, and assimilate outside experiences as our own.
The body works so hard to represent the advisory panel of our thoughts, feelings, and sensations, but sometimes it doesn’t always get that representation right. Sometimes we read too much into posture, expression, engagement. We jump to conclusions.
All along, it’s just a series of labels we attach to things to create order — an illusion that we have some sort of control.
Let the labels wash away and then what is there? Energy — plain and simple chemical reactions — that whimsically attach to illusions. Eliminating the labels, we engage our intuition, not just our eyes, to interpret our surroundings. It is not always what I see that informs, but how it bumps up against me energetically.
The real gift in communication and connection is tapping into that energy.
Bored…or relaxed?
Impatient…or enthusiastic?
Sad…or peaceful?
Or maybe the energy isn’t connected to the expression at all.
Lose the labels…make the deeper connections…feel the power in knowing beyond seeing.
We talk about coming together as family, friends, community. Of course, we are social beings and need one another to share experiences, confide in, lean gently upon, and confidently hold up.
Yet, so often, in our coming together we climb over one another, talking over top of each other, thinking into each other, never really arriving in that space of coming together at all.
Even when we play together, our words, feelings, and bodies get in between.
What if we were to sit or lie down beside each other? Comfortably, safely, in our own individual space, yet together in one place.
What if we were to close our eyes, quiet our thoughts, cease the chatter, and agree to simply be there…not to sleep, but to rest side-by-side and unconditionally hold a soft space of awareness for ourselves and each other in silence.
Then, as we drift beyond the container of the body, a dance begins…a dance of the breath, of connection without words, of equal sharing in this seemingly timeless space.
It is in this space where we are equals, where we listen to the songs of others, where we simultaneously share everything and nothing, where we see each other as we see ourselves, where we are in this skin but somewhere else.
A palpable collaboration takes place in this precious space of collective rest — wakeful, conscious allowing of the stillness, allowing of our being, allowing of one another.
Maybe it is not in a board room or at the family dinner table or on the basketball court where we can do the most leaning on, supporting of, and accepting of one another. Maybe it is actually in this space of shared rest where we can find the greatest power in our coming together.
My vehicle is a treasure to me. It gets me around and enables me to do things I otherwise couldn’t do. It is also an extension of me. When you see my vehicle, it tells you something about me – my style, my preferences, my level of meticulousness or ornateness.
I regularly repair and maintain this vehicle, tending to all the essential manufacturer guidelines and using my intuition to listen to the sounds it makes, to know its natural rhythm and flow. I can tell in an instant when something doesn’t seem quite right and I jump to repair it. I would never put anything in it to harm it – in fact all the spaces through which it can be fed are locked and need special access, ensuring awareness and alertness to the purity and quality of the nourishment it receives.
My vehicle is not me, but I value what it does and brings to me…the experiences it allows me to have, the places it takes me, the quality of what I can contribute to my work, to my family, to my life.
The care and effort I put into this vehicle ensures it’s reliability and longevity. It requires great patience and dedication to tend to this vehicle, but it is worth every effort for my return on investment is priceless and timeless.
This vehicle deserves the best from me always as it always gives its best for me.
As I push and pull upon it, a shape begins to form. The temperature, texture, and identity of that clay grow with me.
As my best efforts produce an uneven, imbalanced figure, one to which I have nonetheless become attached, I realize more work needs to be done.
To bring the work into balance requires undoing what I have created, detaching from what is currently there before me.
The chemical reaction in my brain, the visceral response in my body, and the tugging of my thoughts and emotions make reworking the clay painful.
To restore balance, I must pull the familiar apart. I must disintegrate the work. It is not without labor and discomfort that I destroy the familiar and let go of what I knew as my best work.
I tremble with fear and doubt – I cannot imagine a greater work than before.
And there it is. After the pain of disintegration comes release from what was…freedom from past bests.
Pleasure and pride arise as the new shape takes form, coming closer into balance.
With faith and perseverance, disintegration leads to evolution.
Monday Mindfulness 