Monday Mindfulness

Cultivating Strength, Joy, Peace & Resilience


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Bad and Beautiful

The Ackland Museum at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill just hosted an exhibit entitled “Good Object/Bad Object,” inviting visitors to examine works of art that defy customary decorum and could be called “bad” because they are unpredictably designed yet they achieve an emotional depth and resonant beauty equal to “good” art.

Bad objects are opportunities to explore the edge of our comfort zone and try on new ways of seeing the world.

When the role is taken on responsibly, a bad object can be the catalyst of change and inspire different thinking.

Isn’t it interesting how quickly we humans need to label things as good or bad when often those characteristics are circumstantial. Nature doesn’t operate that way.

In humans, often when a bad object occurs without sufficient planning and understanding, the artist might become defensive or even resentful, denying accountability for their creation. If they have not been provided the encouragement and freedom to create outside of traditional constructs, the artist might try to hide the bad object, its potential emotional depth and beauty lost.

More often than not these days I find myself stronger, more confident, and more accomplished when I step into the role of “bad object.” It is not that I am not good at these times. It is that I willingly take responsibility for non-conforming, breaking a patterned interaction, and inciting a shift in perspective to achieve a familiar level of resonance in an unfamiliar way.

There is a role for each of us as good objects and bad objects. The contrast reminds us of our undeniable ability to contain emotional depth and resonant beauty in the most surprising ways.


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Resonance

There is something timeless in the rolling sea.

Individuality is lost as droplets leap into the air then instantly become consumed by the primal tugging, pulling, pushing, of the random rhythms.

There is something familiar in the curling, crashing surf. A sound and feeling calling me into its whisper, a deafening roar somehow barely audible.

It speaks of protecting me,

clearing my hurts and the world’s imperfections even before I know of them.

The spray catches my cheek.

Resonance of life force and love pulsing on the tide, pulsing through me.

I am consumed, transported back to the space and time when all I knew was the wooshing, whirling roar of silence in the womb.

My individuality is imperceivable.

I know precisely who I am…I am all.

It is with this magnificence that I crest the next wave dancing momentarily, singularly in the air and time and time again am happily reabsorbed into the flow,

into the moment of truth where I know I am the love and the life force that pulses with and through it all.

I am the resonance.


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The Way

Standing on the precipice, mountains before me and behind me, I contemplate briefly the ascent or decent into the unknown.

No worries that the fog hinders my view because I feel my feet. I know that each moment, step by attuned step, I will find the earth and the sure footing that only comes with internal clarity.

Like the goat that climbs the rocks and edges of the cliffs with certainty, I approach the present, with the same attention to which I have all too often focused on my future and my past.

Looking back and looking forward the fog distorts the view. The lack of clarity forces me to see here, only that which is right in front of me.

In this moment, I put my hooves to the ground. I see the steps I need to take right here and now. I do not need to see the mountains in the foreground to know my way.


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Waking Up Happy

This morning, just as dawn broke in the sky, my eyes fluttered open.

Immediately my body tensed as I filled my head with to-do items, remaining self-criticism of all my failures and missed deadlines and opportunities of the day before, and doubts about whether I could make anything worthwhile out of today.

And just before I peeled back the covers and dashed off to start another arduous day, I wondered what was it like when I would just wake up happy?

There must have been a time in life when my first thoughts weren’t of the past or future but of noticing right now,

Where I simply noticed the cool of the morning air on my cheeks, the stillness of my body, the comfort of my bed.

A time when I felt whole, complete and not in a rush to hurry on or recoil into hiding.

I felt my way back into my body with a kind reacquaintance as if welcoming back an old and dear friend.

I noticed little sounds and followed them rhythmically in my mind sometimes as they travelled to me and sometimes back to their source.

I made no plan for what was next.

And on the voice that travels through the cells of my body softly said

This is love,

This is joy,

This is who I am.

I waited and waited there until that one memory resurfaced of that time when I awoke like this…or at least it conjured the feeling I had awoken like this.

I felt into that fully…waking up as enough, waking up with my heart open, waking up in love with myself and knowing that anything is possible when I wake up happy.


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Tuning In

Connection is at the core of communication. How I feel about you and what you say is directly tied to my beliefs about myself. My stories and patterns of reaction determine the fruits of our interactions. So, in order to communicate effectively, I must leave you to your own beliefs and stories and simply tune my vibration to what feels good. When I leave all that other stuff out of it, I find authentic and harmonious connection in every communication.


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Pollinating

Moving from experience to experience, fertilizing each moment with the lingering imprint from where I have been.

Carrying just enough with me to grow a place to land tomorrow.

Taking my time right here and now to nourish and enjoy myself is the only way to ensure that enough of this experience sticks to me fruitfully.

Life flowers fully before me when I linger where I am and carry only the good stuff with me.


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Listening

Smiles and laughter have a beautiful way of resonating in our hearts forever, like the vibration of music carried on the wind. The music is always there…we just sometimes have to stop to listen for it.


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Caught up

Why is it that I am so regularly seduced by over work at the sacrifice of self care and compassion?

Caught in the net of a never ending to-do list that lures me away from rest and towards the mirage of success.

In the end, it is not the amount of work I get done but my capacity to enjoy the work I do and that is only possible with sufficient compassion and care.


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Badlands

I stand at the edge of what appears to be a barren and desolate canyon, seemingly incapable of supporting my growth.

Between the jagged and piercing crevasses, I reach down and discover I don’t need as much as I thought to thrive – simple and small gifts of connection are enough to sustain me. Humility, patience, and kindness soften the edges of the canyon like a gentle rain just enough to allow me to take hold and flourish.

Here I learn of my own fortitude and resilience. Here I may appear to stand out but it’s really just where I belong.


Leave a comment

Badlands

I stand at the edge of what appears to be a barren and desolate canyon, seemingly incapable of supporting my growth.

Between the jagged and piercing crevasses, I reach down and discover I don’t need as much as I thought to thrive – simple and small gifts of connection are enough to sustain me. Humility, patience, and kindness soften the edges of the canyon like a gentle rain just enough to allow me to take hold and flourish.

Here I learn of my own fortitude and resilience. Here I may appear to stand out but it’s really just where I belong.