There comes a time and space where each of us longs to curl up in a snuggly blanket, to feel the pressure on our skin, the cocoon of warmth and connection. This need for contact, pressure, and restriction is also the driver for the invitation of struggle, suffering, and conflict into our lives.
With difficulty pressing in upon me, I will always still find the same comfort and ease on the inside if I allow it.
It is simply a matter of the material of the wrap and the lens with which I see it that determines whether I feel it as nurturing or limiting.
The wrap is just a reminder to feel what’s on the inside – to know the true essence of me, undefined by the fabric of my experience.
I certainly don’t claim to have any part of this whole dying thing down. But I have seen enough family and friends make that transition to understand that it is not in the clinging to this life or the wallowing in the departure that brings peace. It is not in the anointing or in the fighting that we pass on but in the releasing…the letting go of the story, the belief that we are only of value in this living physical form, the fear we have somehow not been or done enough, and the pressure to continue on in something that has drawn to a close.
I believe we always have the choice. There can be fanfare and drama or quiet and stillness. Those left behind can wail and wrestle with their loss or
be happy for the soul that returns to the light, which I believe allows the departed to float more freely, untethered to the strings of our emotions, fears, and needs in this temporal space.
We need not believe in “life” after this body, but we can be sure that we are more than this body. We can be grateful for the space this body provided for us to play and learn – whether just hours or days or many, many years.
We all have within us a mysterious longing to be free, yet we spend little time preparing for the opportunity to run freely when the gates are open.
One thing that is becoming increasingly clear to me is that it seems the way to die may be to live in love, to surround ourselves with those who are willing to hold the gates open for us, and let nothing hinder us from feeling whole, content, and ready to run.
Let the music play, the beat tuned to the flow of my breath and the rhythm of my heart.
I am the amazing conductor of the orchestra of my life.
Its sound perfectly tuned.
Its measure justly syncopated.
Its harmony divinely aligned.
Oh, how lovely the notes and tones come together when I mindfully raise my baton with a smile and create just the right pulse and rhythm on which this ensemble plays on just for me.
I never thought of myself as adventurous…but then again when joy and goodness are in the driver’s seat, anything can happen…if you just let it. Put the peddle to the metal.
Contrast arises in our experiences as a guide. Like bread crumbs scattered on the path, contrast draws attention, redirecting us back to the path, pointing out the direction in which we should head so that we can find our way back to what nurtures and restores us.
Nothing that enters from the outside can define a person. From within – from the space of the heart – comes the guidance and morality by which we live. Your heart is where you live.
Monday Mindfulness 