I am not broken.
Although, perhaps to some I may appear that way.
When I sit in stillness, in the quiet of my own heart, it is clear that I may be chipped.
I may be cracked.
Parts of me may be loose or wobbly,
but there is such a profound beauty
in all of the scars and markings of this worn and tired being,
that I can only imagine
if I were completely broken
I would be even more beautiful.
You are so wise
…and powerful,
beautiful,
kind,
…and attuned.
You do not have to be any stronger than you are.
You do not have to be more brave than you are.
You do not have to be more balanced than you are,
or flexible,
or creative.
You do not need to be anymore of anything right now.
There is power in peace,
clarity and confidence in grace.
Feel into your wild and free intuition.
Let it guide you unabashedly!!
My old, worn out shoes,
so familiar,
form to fit my imperfect feet,
adapted over time to accommodate my lopsided gate,
carrying me faithfully in my uneven stride.
There comes that time that those beloved companions have served their purpose,
worn out in functionality,
poised for retirement.
In come the replacements,
stiff,
awkward,
shifting,
adjusting.
Blisters making way for bliss – forging new connections for movement and growth.
One day this single path abruptly split in two.
The potential in both directions was intriguing and alluring,
albeit a bit daunting.
The split itself brought much spaciousness and beauty,
a chance to pause and survey the widespread landscape of the past and present,
confirming there could be no wrong steps forward,
the divide simply an invitation to reawaken to this journey
and joyfully take the next step.
The shadow of the leaf.
A lingering impression it makes as the sun touches the earth,
predictable, recognizable, seemingly unchanging.
And then the moon eclipses the sun.
The angle of light shifts as it shines on the earth.
Shadows arc and transform just as freely as the leaf dances in the wind,
fully capable of showing up differently.
The current flows through me like a lightening bolt.
Jaggedly it rips at my center.
The burning wake of hollowness almost crumbles me to the ground.
As the charge hits the earth,
it dissipates,
diffuses,
extinguished in a flash.
Breath and smoldering flesh hang on.
Roots cling to the soil,
unhinged by the destruction.
The sky still dark,
the air now still,
droplets descend from the clouds as a small peace offering and attempt to soothe.
Shhhh….
calls out the rain.
You will prevail.
Forever changed, yes.
Wearing the beautiful mark
of challenge overcome,
and your willingness to be a conduit
for the powerful energy of
change.
In the space of silence and stillness,
there is an enormous void,
fabulous,
wide open,
freeing.
Or hollow,
isolating,
lonely?
It is one space.
In encountering this space,
there is a choice made instantly.
Inquiry,
assessment,
judgment
all rush in to
analyze,
identify,
interpret.
The recoiling in the stark emptiness is natural –
that moment when the stillness startles and unnerves as it presses against the constricting familiar.
And, each and every time,
that space can be met with
curiosity or fear,
acceptance or resistance.
It is the potentiality that resides in the peace of the heart.
It is a choice to receive it
as a gift
or a challenge
when feeling so fully
and completely
into ourselves.
Gnarled or free flowing.
Grasping or outstretched.
From its center point,
form expands in two directions,
mirrored in the spread of itself confidently into the earth
and it’s expansion courageously into the air.
Nourishment flowing.
Survival impossible without the reflections
of grounding,
of stretching,
of growth,
of change.
One feeding the other,
feeding the other.
Separate in apparent function.
Symbiotic existence as one.
Oh, the wisdom and the entanglement of memories that accompany me
along the path of rising over resistance.
Cutting through the cords of debris from the past.
Mired in the mud of judgment and unmet expectations.
Stuck in the quagmire of fear.
The truth, like a sword, clears the rumination,
making way for the realization that
I can choose growth over stagnation,
healing over habits,
and triumph with awareness and agility,
as I change and make good,
drawing with power on my past.
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.
Monday Mindfulness 