bristled or spikey
bristled or spikey
In the cold, still hours of dawn, the frost surrounds me. Like a fortress, ice cakes the windows.
Agitation builds as I feel blocked from the broader landscape that lies beyond that wall of ice.
Straining to look past what’s right in front of me, I fear I am unable to move forward, somehow missing out. Life out there is happening without me.
And then my gaze shifts. As easily as the breath transitions from exhale to inhale, I see it…the beauty that lies before me as these little crystals of life come into focus.
They dance before all else that lies beyond and will, as the sun warms them, part to change my view.
For now I rest in the marvel of how they gathered there to share their beauty and their story of the importance of not overlooking what’s right in front of me to hurry to the beyond.
In and around, all that exists is love when I allow the low-lying cloud of peace to settle in.
Whether crashing wildly in or softly lapping at the shore, the waves of life continually curl up at my feet.
Today, I choose to dive right in. Tomorrow may require a more easeful entry.
Either way, I feel the tug of the current. Either way, I am there to explore and flow and feel myself as something else, moving with the water as I know I cannot go against it.
Either way I get wet…which delightfully is the purpose in my dance with the waves.
Working through the challenges of life is like swinging on the bars of a jungle gym. Each requires a certain amount of preparation, a great deal of follow through, and the ability to balance risk and excitement all for the sake of getting to the next rung.
Taking that leap…feeling that joy.
Trees loose their leaves. The moon falls to pieces. So often I take these happenings as signs that something is lost or missing.
I see someone else’s fullness as my empty. When I stand in their shadows, instead of relieved and protected, I feel smothered in darkness.
And yet the moon while it looks at times to be a fraction of itself remains whole. The shadows cast upon it by others are simply opportunities for it to buff up and then shine again. It’s light always returns, often even more brightly than before.
The tree that looses its leaves is storing energy to grow into something more, recognizing that it needs not retain its flamboyant exterior to maintain its grandiose stature.
And so the fractions, the pieces, the loss and the darkness are not thrust upon us as indicators of our own lacking or shortcomings, but as an opportunity to be something we have never been before.
Each of us ebbing and flowing with change at different times and paces to remind each other that we can be greater than we have ever been before if we lose our fear of someone else remaining evergreen or someone else shining a bit brighter today.
When I start with the exhale, I start with a release, emptying space so that I can fill it just so. Filling becomes not as urgent when I am no longer grasping for the next inhale but expanding intensionally to receive it.
Emptying allows the filling to happen with less effort, with the simple purpose of fulfillment as opposed to rescuing or catapulting me.
With intensional emptying comes graceful, careful filling.
For it is not the act of filling that carries me on as much as the emptying which provides the space and focus for me to move on more fully.
Slowing down and extending the process of releasing creates more emptiness, more space for nothing that in return leaves me more ready to fill with everything.