
It’s not that I don’t suffer.
It’s just that I don’t choose for suffering to be my way of being.

It’s not that I don’t suffer.
It’s just that I don’t choose for suffering to be my way of being.

Right there, in between the meandering branches of my life,
the shifting sands of time,
the ebbing and flowing waters of my mind,
and the soft current that carries my heart,
there is a bright and constant light
that moves and shines through my existence,
the steady point that reminds and renews me over and over again,
guiding me back like a porch light,
to the warm, quiet, stillness of my eternal home within.
Photo credit: Brian Danahy (from the port of Mykanos, Greece)

Taking away someone’s freedom is the ultimate infringement on being.
When I impose my ideas, my values, and my beliefs on you, I limit your freedom.
When I think that any part of your mind, body, or spirit needs changing, I build barriers to your freedom.
When I create obstacles that exist from my assumptions and preconceptions and believe I do not have the power to change the way we co-exist, you cannot be free.
When I say I am powerless to impact your sense of freedom and that it is totally up to you, I am shirking my obligation to give you space to be free.
It is not just you that controls your ability to be free. If I lose sight of the light of love that shines in every one of us – in you and me – the light that has a right to shine – we cannot be free.
Today I vow to do my best to cultivate your liberation, your resilience and your fortitude, to be free.

Caught my finger briefly in the door.
Intense sensation.
Rush of pain.
Momentarily immobilized.
No blood, no mark, and yet I felt such an enormous affront.
Breath gradually returns.
Senses calm.
Back to OK.
Realizing how deceiving hurts can be on the outside…no way to know how the hurt is unfolding on the inside.
What seems like such a minor encounter could feel quite crushing on the inside.
Perhaps it would serve best to judge less and avoid assessing whether feeling hurt is appropriate and rather focus on finding the way back to OK.

May ripples of love and acceptance help you see all the good in others so that you can see it in you too.

Fear is born of the past.
Worry is tied to the future.
In the stillness of this moment
fully present
there is joy.
Instead of trying to form my being
If I allow myself to be
I find joy.

The sun typically illuminates the moon.
The moon relying on the sun to be seen.
On occasion they come into complete opposition.
The earth interferes with the sun’s capacity to light the moon.
For a moment there appears to be total darkness.
And then the moon emerges more strikingly in the sky than ever before, full of deep, rich color.
The moon becomes something new,
The dark more luminous,
The sun still shining.
Adversity the catalyst,
Throughout the darkness.

How to be strong and vulnerable.
Look others in the eye.
Listen deeply.
Be Aware.
Allow.
Accept.
Fear less.
Laugh more.
Love.

I’m learning that your opinions about me come from your experiences not mine.
Your beliefs, values and habits were formed not by my behaviors but by your experiences.
So next time I judge you or think you are making a mistake, I will remind myself to pause and explore the roots of my feelings.
They were more likely than not aimed at something or someone that came long before this moment with you. This encounter just somehow shook them up or rattled them loose.
If we can both remember this we can both forgive and understand that the mistakes of other are really just reminders of our own unlearned lessons.

Here I am, walking along, awareness softly tuned to my surroundings.
Without any warning, the easy state of awareness suddenly funnels with precision into the soul of my foot.
A slew of messages instantly travels light lightening through my body alerting me to intense sensation.
There is a pebble in my shoe.
With each step now, I have a choice.
Do I immediately freeze, paralyzed by this unanticipated happening, shutting down, urgently driven to remove the discomfort?
Do I pause, taking notice, receiving the sensations with curiosity and kindness, quietly ascertaining my next step?
Or do I continue walking, noticing, and finding unique learning in every step, even through the unsettledness and unease?
Can I cultivate gratitude for the ability to feel, to move, and motivate, to decide with every step?
Whatever I do, it should be with care, not reacting but receiving, even when unexpected and uncomfortable, a constant reminder of my free will.