Monday Mindfulness

Cultivating Strength, Joy, Calm & Resilience


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Bare Roots

The rest of the trees in the woods seem to stand so confident, so steady.

The storms have not hindered their ability to carry on.

And there I lay right next to them…toppled to the ground,

Root exposed.

So vulnerable and feeling like such a failure.

No longer am I the source of shade, fresh air, and refuge for the birds.

How could I be so weak?

How could I let so many down?

As I lay across the forest floor I feel the earth not just at my base but nestling in all along my spine, roots to branches.

I feel the soft mud, leaves of seasons past, and creatures that inhabit the ground delighting in my arrival.

New spaces to be cradled, to play in, and explore.

I am no longer giving nourishment through my leaves and breath but I am feeding the forest now with my whole being.

I am no longer drawing from the source of nourishment at my roots but I am the source itself.

With roots exposed, like bearing the deepest corners of my heart, I have nothing to protect and everything to give.

Fallen and seemingly over my prime, I am just now realizing that my purpose was not to stand tall but to fall into an even more grand state of being.


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Scattered

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.


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When the gates are open

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.