Each of us is standing in our own ripples,
Not different but unique,
Finding our own way to stay steady in shared space.
In this familiar but sometime unpredictable environment,
Looking for patterns that help us feel secure,
Relying on patterns that helped us adapt,
We find ourselves courageous enough to learn new patterns that allow us to thrive even more fully
Amongst the ripples.
What is regular? Normal? The way things are “supposed to be?”
It seems our nature is to crave stability and consistency, to look around us for the expected.
Can the expected really be a constant pattern of change, redefined based on circumstances?
In the fall every tree chooses a slightly different timing and color and pattern of change based on its relationship with the earth, the air, and its surroundings.
Even the evergreen loses some leaves, changes shape, and becomes something different year after year.
This shifting is considered beautiful, an often awe-inspiring evolution.
No tree taking the exact same steps, no one looking the same, yet all normal, regular, naturally changing.
This change allows the tree to thrive.
I must remember there is no right or wrong in change, simply an opportunity to be unafraid, vulnerable, and resilient.
Think about the possibility.
Sitting here amongst the relics of old memories and life experiences, the edges now crumbled, some barely recognizable in their origin, purpose or story.
Just formed yesterday or residue of my ancestors’ journeys, the structure erodes.
There is sadness and longing in the erosion.
As the structure of what was folds back into the landscape, the experiences of yesterday become the soft touch of wind on my skin, the journey of tomorrow the warm light in the sky before me,
I need nothing more than the light and wind to remind me of where I have been and where I might next go.
The memories eroding in my mind become the bedrock of my being.
Every change has a transition, a pause between what has happened and what is left to do.
This threshold offers a clear and open vantage point,
an opportunity to be fully present, not leaning back or lunging forward, but knowingly and confidently stepping into who we are now ready to be.
Whether recovering from an illness, overcoming loss, or realizing dharma, we come to this threshold not by accident or failure but as a reminder of our power to heal and know greater peace and ease.
In this doorway lies an intricate and yet simple network of universal connections fueling our every desire and supporting our every need, holding us, preparing us, reminding us we are ready to carry on. We are never alone.
We do not need to know what lies beyond this doorway, or to worry about being received on the other side.
We need only remember the full and unwavering choice we have to be here, to step in and step through to the wild and beautiful landscape infinitely sprawling before us.
Photo credit: Clifden Castle Ireland, gateway to the wild and beautiful, captured by my mischievous soul sister.
It’s so hard to come out of this cocoon,
Perfectly fitting around me,
The barrier I need to dampen sensations and dull the sharp contrast of the outer world and what’s going on inside of me.
I arrive at the precipice of transformation, the seal broken on my familiar encasing,
The time now ripe for my evolution.
Thinking the hard part is past me,
The formation of this new way of being is here.
And yet as the cocoon slices open, there is no longer a sense of security, of the familiar, or predictability.
These new wings are wet and heavy, my footing unsure.
My nourishment and direction are uncertain.
Yet, I find the courage to spread my wings, scattering the newly applied and still wet coating that will ultimately protect me.
Now settling into this new being,
I look out at the vast horizon.
Vibrant colors, textures and shapes seem distantly familiar,
Invigorating my curiosity,
Reminding me vaguely of what I once was and what I now will be.
It is time.
I flutter my wings.
I am free.
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.
Scattered like the ripest fruit falling away from the tree, petals melt to the ground bearing the raw, delicate heart of the flower.
The breeze carries the evolution of being on its wing.
It is jarring, turbulent, and so beautiful…the scattering…
the falling apart to make something new.
Holding out hope for resolution or dissolution of pain or suffering brings heartache…a direct misalignment of the brain and heart as the heart knows that change is needed but the head resists the shift because it’s too much work to reorganize the memories, beliefs, stories. Gestures we make toward evolution instead of resolution free us to make transitions knowing all will be ok.
The shift doesn’t erase or do away with feelings – it alters receptivity and focus, it forges new pathways of being and seeing and offers a beautiful contrast informing contentment, the capacity to just be, absent good or bad. Contentment when fully present and balanced fuels joy and joy fuels awe…unconditional delight in experiencing evolution over resolution.
I send messages to myself in little ways to care more, nourish better, rest more fully, And then I blatantly ignore those messages.
I harden on the outside, contract on the inside, and push on at the most critical junctures because sometimes it’s easier to set myself up for the transition by considering myself broken and needing fixing.
So I let myself become weak, vulnerable, malnourished just so I can love and tend to myself.
It seems an innate component of the mechanics of being that sometimes we need to breakdown to build up.
I am meant to evolve, to ever branch and expand.
So why is it that change is so hard?
When change feels like it is coming for good, I embrace it. When change feels put upon me, I resist and shut down.
Fear may be coloring my relationship with change. Fear creates the illusion of pain, loss, or failure tied to change.
Take away the anticipation of loss or failure and change is just what comes next.
Change taken moment by moment, even when not chosen, is simply what comes next.
Monday Mindfulness 