Are the flowers each their own?
Are their petals each their own?
To whom do the seeds and leaves belong?
Do they come together to complete the plant?
Is the plant completing them?
Are the flowers extensions of the plant?
Could one survive without the other?
Each part grows uniquely,
in its own special way,
and still, they all contribute to something bigger.
Each part is invited to do their own work,
and to serve one another.
Each part seems separate
and yet only together
do they truly flourish.
When I let go of trying to make things happen,
when I stop holding onto the belief that I need to make all the decisions and have all the answers,
I no longer feel an urgency to advance,
to be someone or something in particular.
When I let the work do itself,
methodically and gently applying curiosity and trust,
asking what’s next
without immediately seeking an answer,
allowing options to arise,
instead of predetermining the way,
believing in myself versus holding onto worn out beliefs,
success flows more quickly, smoothly, and freely.
When I take the pressure off myself and those around me to fit into my limiting perspective and beliefs,
I step more fully into my true potential…and they into theirs.
When I stop making myself small through my thoughts and feelings,
when I stop looking to you for answers,
it is clear that I don’t need the answers at all,
merely to hold onto the knowledge that I am doing the work
just by being here.
At the heart of all is love.
At the heart of me is love.
It’s ok to be skeptical.
No need to be clear or believe it,
And it’s still true.
Everything is working for me.
I need not soften into the knowing.
I can breathe and stand in this,
or I can struggle and resist,
and it will still happen – I am being.
I occupy this space, knowing that no one occupies this space like me.
Big or small,
tall or coiled,
heavy or light,
bold or shy,
free or bound.
The heart of me remains unchanged.
The heart of you remains unchanged.
The heart of all remains of love.
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The wind determines what I hear.
My eyes inform what I see.
The body interprets what I sense.
Thoughts form from what I hear, see, and feel as an experience.
Beliefs cling to these thoughts and this experience as truth,
setting emotions into action and reaction.
In reality, if there is such a thing, it is all just a choice, interpretation best when it comes not from my beliefs but in what I choose to believe.
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In between the mountains and valleys of thoughts,
Flows an inner resource deep within.
Its current runs through the deepest and darkest crevices of experience and rushes along the jagged and unpredictable surfaces of emotions.
It’s temperature, force, and direction make subtle shifts,
Navigating the terrain as it comes before it,
the inner resource remaining the constant in the ever-changing landscape.
It may from time to time be difficult to discern its presence, but with practice its presence becomes the familiar.
It’s consistent support and connection are unshakable.
All well being stems from and is fed by the inner resource.
The inner resource is the well of well being,
The inner resource is the taproot of our existence.
Can you feel it?
Hope twinkles like tiny stars.
Courage forms in the constellations of small hopes coming together.
Darkness besets as guidance,
a backdrop for creation,
clarity, and definition.
Once the constellation appears,
even when darkness fades,
even when engulfed in light,
the stars are connected,
the constellation remains,
for once seen it can never be forgotten.
There is not one giant awakening.
There is no detachment from pain.
There is not one moment of clarity that instantly falls upon the eyes or mind. There is not one instant one experiences freedom.
It happens bit by bit.
Awakening in the darkness,
in the suffering,
in the discomfort,
and in the dis-ease.
We begin to know it, like a dear and cherished friend.
There is a gradual unclogging, unfogging, and unraveling – that is the mystery of change.
That is the beauty of opening oneself to the potentiality of growing into something different.
Bit by bit, moment by moment, like pieces of a puzzle, thoughts and feeling, sensation and experiences, twist and turn and gradually find their way to fit together.
In that coming together, there is a sense of harmony and ease, perhaps even joy, that surfaces on the horizon,
not in overcoming the obstacles,
not in seeing the finished product,
but in feeling the creative process and drinking it all in.
I know not how
to befriend you.
There are no words or actions that I have learned
to guide me in this seemingly simple endeavor.
Yet I sense
it is crucial to my survival.
I long to connect
and belong.
It is not for a lack of love
or desire
that I appear
so unwilling or unable
to conduct myself as
a friend.
I simply do not know how.
I do know my capacity to love and the kind space that exists
within me
so ready to receive and serve you.
All I can do right now is
breathe in,
expanding and opening myself
just a little more,
building trust in my inner knowing
that I am part of the unseen bond that exists between us all,
and that your care and patience will help me find my way.
With each exhale, I extend myself
slowly and courageously
Into the edges and folds of you
in hopes that my melding
feels as gentle
and loving
as I intend it to be.
You are safe and loved.
I support you.
I will protect you.
It’s okay to feel sad, scared, or anxious.
It’s okay to say no.
I love you the way you are.
You are kind, smart, and funny.
You are important.
I am happy you are here.
An enthusiastic and naïve seagull swoops down on a tiny fish sparkling near the surface of the softly rippling waves.
It eagerly dives in and grasps the silvery treasure.
A simple maneuver performed hundreds of times in the past turns immediately to struggle as a hook and clear line at the end of a poll entangle the unsuspecting.
Soon the sky fills as the silent call for help produces a furry of circling, screeching, and diving.
All are now hovering, pensively and purposefully.
A shirt comes off to cover the bird as nimble hands work to untangle the lines.
The air is filled with insecurity and uncertainty.
A cloud of judgment forms.
It is the bird’s fault.
It is the fisherman’s fault.
They are saving the bird.
They are hurting the bird.
All is a swirl in the energetic exchange of emotions and actions.
Soon there is a release, a cutting free, a letting go.
And none are left untarnished.
There is not an immediate sense of relief as one might expect.
Heads hang heavy, perhaps even filled with shame and remorse.
The drenched shirt, the cut line, the disheveled demeanor of all reminds us that even when the urgent rescue and the struggle dissolve,
There is a residual current of pain that must be allowed to dissipate and transform.
Even in the shortest-lived trauma, there must be a space following for grief, loss, and healing.
No participant in this event is untouched.
Only those who feel fully, surrender to the flood of intense sensations, and tend the wounds of the entanglement will be fully free.
A period of rest and repair is needed for all.
Shaking,
pruning,
pacing,
sounding,
slowing down,
and reconnecting
to the earth,
the water,
and the air,
each participant is offered a blanket of grace, compassion, and love to wrap around them in order for the judgment, fear, shame, and pain to subside.
In due time, as they forgive one another, they once more wander the edge of the sea, seeking nourishment, seeing differently, and feeling a part of something greater,
a net of seemingly invisible lines meant to connect and secure us, and sometimes harrowingly entangling,
always informing and forming
who we are,
where we go,
and how we get there.
Monday Mindfulness 