slippery mud warns of the potential danger in crossing.
Yet here I am, knowing this is the way to go.
I watch as the current jets and swerves around the moss and algae covered rocks scattered in the creek.
I find the most narrow crossing and yet it seems like still an impassible ravine.
My body tightens with anxiety,
For a moment I choose fear in response to this opportunity to move in a new direction.
In the tightening, frozen, I am,
dreading staying where I am equally to where I know I must go.
Then the anxiety speaks more loudly.
My breath grabs at my chest.
Sweat speckles my skin.
I must make the crossing.
That is my destiny.
I step out onto one rock and
with breath unconvinced of my safety the path begins to unfold.
I pause.
Instead of dashing quickly across the precariously and wide spread rocks,
I reach out to the rock before me and test its steadiness.
In the past I might not have made a connection – I might have tried to move urgently, wobbly and unsure, holding my breath and perhaps even crashing in the cold rushing water…blaming the rocks.
Today, my anxiety informs me of my power to pause,
to narrow my attention, my body, and my focus.
I don’t need to take the path as it is.
I tense not with fear but with agency as I move my muscles into action.
I reach down and shift the unsteady rock before me.
It’s heavy and at first won’t move.
So I narrow and tighten more until I funnel the tightness into strength.
The rock moves…and so do the others beyond it…and so do I.
The rocks settle.
I settle.
My chest releases.
My breath deepens.
My body advances forward,
grounded and a bit more sure.
There are a few more stones to go but I now know I don’t need to take them as they are.
Change can be a trigger for grief when I view it as resulting in something I don’t want, something that requires me to lose what I have.
But when change is received as a marker of accomplishment of a stage or triumph over a challenge, it inspires a sense of renewal and growth.
To receive change in that way requires diligence and optimism. It requires a belief in me that all of my experiences are opportunities to get to know myself better and to play in the dance of life with you, this body, this world, even if it means it looks different along the way.
In this way, change becomes not suffering but nourishing, evolutionary, and a source of freedom.
Ever notice how sometimes resistance appears just before the moment of most profound change?  Like the “click click click” of the wooden roller coaster as it chugs its way up to the top of the hill, dragging and pushing ever harder, and just when it seems to have no more momentum, it crests the highest hill and runs freely, wildly, ahead.  Resistance makes way for its counterpart…freedom.
Let humor lift you. The ability to laugh at the drama in our lives, to laugh at ourselves, to not dwell in the heaviness grants us the full freedom to aspire to a higher state of being, a more gentle space of receiving, and a more generous place of giving.
To laugh at ourselves clears emotions, deflates self-importance, brings us to common ground, and reminds us of our shared humanity.
Monday Mindfulness 