Monday Mindfulness

Cultivating Strength, Joy, Peace & Resilience


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Awakening

Imagine no more separateness. No more day. No more night. No more sleep. No more wake. Simply a space in which I rest when I am tired and I dance and play when I feel joyful.

Night and day converging, it is all just a dream. What takes place is all imagined – what power I have to control my story! I can awaken at any time to adjust the impression left by this moment.

I can dance in the moonlight, rest during the day, sun and moon in one sky. The yin and yang of life itself poised in equanimity, one space, one being.

When the sun and the moon brighten the sky together, that will be the moment in which I realize anything is possible, any story can be written or rewritten, and life is all unfolding under one timeless sky.


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Side by side

Together we navigate the waves and sands of life,

Asking simple questions like “what shall we eat today?”

Or “do you think it will rain?”

We sometimes gather with the flock to catch up and share in our collective presence and strength.

There is always the hierarchy to navigate and the stories of others that come into play – no less delightful but requiring a different form of focus and care nonetheless.

But when we walk alone at the waters edge in the silence,

knowing each other’s thoughts,

sensing the world together,

equal in the space we occupy,

that is when I feel at my best

and know my Self the most.


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Real

When I feel angry, my world appears abrasive and confrontational.

When I am confused, all is cold and insensitive.

The more beautiful my world feels, the more gentle and receptive it seems.

As I play in this world with wonder, curiosity, and awe, the world invites me to laugh and be free.

When I feel wrapped in care and comfort, I find the world worthy of love.

My world is a reflection of my beliefs, a reflection of what I see on the inside.

My world gives me just what I see.

This is what is real, as long as this is the story I want to see.


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Asymmetrical

Some of the most beautiful things in the world are uneven, off kilter, imbalanced.

As hard as I try to always be in control, to have an answer for every unknown, and to maintain balance, there are those days that remind me that true harmony arises not in maintaining order but in remaining open to the form of the mismatched nature of my experiences with my expectations.

Sometimes imbalance is not only refreshing for the eyes, but needed to reset the soul.


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Arabesque

The tightrope wire is taught and thin leaving not much room for play.

Inching along trepidatiously, the other side seems so far away.

Moved – or frozen – by memories and worry, I slide foot after foot on the barely visible line.

And then a pause to fill myself with breath returns me to my center.

Without any planning and responding only to the invitation of my breath, my body begins to relax.

My back leg lifts, my heart turns to the sky, and suddenly what I thought was only one path, becomes my playground.

There is still a bit of cautiousness – for I am in human form — but I give way to curiosity and before I know it there I am in a full arabesque on the wire.

Hanging on or flying free is the choice that is always there for me.

Thank you Jean McDonald for sharing this photo and your courage with all of us!


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Blossom

How the sun warms the air around me,

enticing the earth to release its hold.

Slowly I begin to uncoil, splitting myself

rooting and sprouting.

Even as darkness remains,

tentatively I stretch and reach, barely taking hold.

Not sure whether I can dig myself out,

I vow to love

and hold

and encourage

and grow my little self.

Even with the fear of frost,

I will blossom.


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Fragile

Fragile

Mired in the fog of fatigue, loss, and self-doubt,

I am more fragile these days,

More prone to tears,

aware of tightness,

weakness,

imbalance.

Heavy and slower moving,

hyper-vigilant,

frenetic,

almost desperate to break free.

Oh, to relieve the longing,

the striving,

the insecurities.

To return to my true nature.

I am more fragile these days,

but not broken.

Tucked away for now,

but I will surely bloom again.


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Learning to Knit

So much of this past year was spent retracted, curled inward, huddled up against myself. Darkness, distractions, and attempts to keep things all the same occupied much of my thinking. Circular thoughts woven into fears. Captive in this castle, spinning my time into the yarn of “what if.”

I imagined I was suffering, experiencing punishment of some sort. Separate from my routine, separate from others, separate from much of what I knew as familiar.

Now, a year later, I am being asked to do something with all the yarn that I have spun. I am being asked to go back to some form of the way things were, to put the yarn away. But I have rather come to enjoy the spinning and might just want to sit and spin some more.

Ah, but it could be time instead for me to learn to knit. There are endless possibilities of where I can go from here and what I can create. If I can only see that every moment is an opportunity to learn and create something new. How fortunate I have been to have this time to spin this yarn.

In this re-emergence as the gates slowly open, it is lovely to see what others have woven. Some have acquired new skills. Connected and inspired from within, they are already knitting. Some have rolled the yarn into balls to store away for another time. Some have just begun to make the yarn. In this experience, I have learned that I can resist the weaving, stumble and climb over all the yarn, or I can learn to knit.


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Grace

There is something that happens when you tap into what you were meant to be and do. There is a joy and ease that comes in knowing you are where you are supposed to be. The more I let go into my grace, the more grace I have to let grow.

Like wings of a butterfly opening, I’ll feel my essence expanding, the essence of myself. I soften and let go, far from perfect, but gliding effortlessly into knowing that this is the way I am meant to be.

The breath deepens, the face softens, the heart opens, the mind relaxes, and the body moves on the rhythm of knowing that I am living in the way that was meant to be.

Grace is not an outfit I would have expected to wear, out of place like the ball gown of Cinderella. However when I step into the essence of my being, I cannot help but step into grace.

How could I have ever imagined that I was intended to be anything less than full of grace?

Artwork by Lana Reed.