Lighten up on yourself, my dear friend.
You have not veered off the path.
Every apparent curve, every jagged edge, and every soft shoulder belongs to the path.
It’s all the path.
So, pack extra love and the balm of forgiveness and grace in your backpack
and set off
not for the journey
but as the journey.
Of varying form and purpose, we all arrive in a beautiful and powerful way – the key is to remain here not with force but with formidable grace.
I am the sparkle of sunshine that kisses your skin. I am the cool, refreshing rain pouring over you.
I am the delicious, sweet, juicy piece of fruit that satisfies every taste bud just so.
I am this to you because I am this to me.
Should I forget and for a moment seem more like a torrential downpour or a bitter unripe and sour bite, remind me not with words but by being a ray of sunshine and a sweet and juicy piece of fruit.
The ocean rolls in and out, finding a rhythm in the irregular beat of its waves on the shore, a consistency in the inconsistency.
It asks that I bend more, stay more still, listen more closely, find my entry, consider a way to dive in while still feeling my feet.
Restless…rejecting…beautiful…inciting…matching breath to motion.
Sometimes steady and full, sometimes roaring in…sometimes barely there.
Here together, a push and pull of synchrony.
Even in the struggle you connect me with my breath.
You awaken my senses.
You remind me what it means to exist and give me permission to settle into my unsettledness.
In body
Viable form
Constituent capsule
Compelling representation
Allowing me to feel my borders
And you to see me
The vessel that carries me
Making this journey
Structure of my being
Only a small, small portion of who I am
So why is it we judge it so?
It is a lovely and intricate dance this dance of the head and heart.
The heart leads with what it knows. The head leads with what it believes it knows.
The heart lets the music guide its movement. The head responds to the beat.
The head counts the steps and searches the archives to apply with precision each detail. The heart feels every past movement, every tumble just the same and invites imperfection in its flow.
The head seeks the answers…the road map.
The heart sets down its notes and score card, turning its attention to the winding road before it.
The head consults the master plan while the heart embodies it.
Both are wickedly talented on the dance floor. Together their dance is spectacular.
But I do often wonder why it is that the head takes the lead so often.
Arriving on the scene
Often not intending to land where they may
Seemingly whole or torn at the edges
Scattered yet somehow connected
Watch your step
There are little hearts everywhere
Hidden inside us all is a cozy little spot where we can find respite from the heat of the sun, from the fear of intruders or encroachers, and where we can feel cradled and protected.
At first glance it may not even be noticeable, blending in with the roots and trunk of who we are. But, it’s there, between the knots and the twists that define our experiences and have grown us into this being.
To some, the nook may look like an imperfection. Some may see it as a weakness, a failing, or space to fill in or cover up. But this treasured gap, this space within, is of great value. For this refuge tucked just so can be bravely opened up to become a haven for others as well. The meek, the tired, the lonely, the lost, or simply those just wishing for a moment of cool, reliable coverage, can gather here in this nook. No matter how many come, when we rest here together we find plenty of space to live and breathe…just as we are.
I breathe in, filling with the life force that moves me into every adventure, like the climbing of a roller coaster to the peak of its highest rail.
I teeter at the top, momentarily suspended in the gap of the breath the frozen space of fear.
And then I soften, surrender, and remember I am bigger than the gap. When I become bigger in the space of fear, fear becomes a place of play.
I can wade, jump, dive, trickle or race through the gap, inviting the breath to meet me at the other side. As I move more fully into each turn, each bend and dip in the rail, I become bigger and bigger with every breath.
In the bigness, I am fluid and free. There, in that space, I cannot help but smile in the excitement I find in being me…in breathing excitement into fear.
Every day, I tenderly pluck and sort the unwanted guests between the treasured plants in the garden of this life of mine. I carefully reach between the stalks and flowers I choose to keep and arrange them all just so.
And, even with the most careful attention, I never leave my garden without scrapes, brush marks and bruises.
Yes, some of the most treasured plants in my garden have thorns. I move with particular sensitivity around them lest they snag my flesh. And somehow even as they cut me, I am still able to see their beauty and feel their special worth. They reach out and brush against me as if they just want to touch, to say “isn’t this all so grand that we are here?!”
It is at that moment when I am wounded but still capable of loving – even those plants with thorns – that I recognize that this coexistence is the essence of thriving.
Monday Mindfulness 