Witnessing
the immediate state of
the breath,
the thoughts,
the body.
Melting
conditionality,
quality,
quantity,
purpose,
direction.
Recognizing
perceptions of
loss
challenge,
failure,
imperfection,
and resistance
as a readiness
to be
seen,
felt,
and expressed
otherwise.
The next moment,
a transition,
a transformation.
Loving
and cherishing
what shows up
rather than what comes next.
A bird flies overhead,
magnificent in its form and grace,
perfection in flight.
So present in its existence, movement, and being.
So seemingly joyful and at ease, even as it efforts to ride the currents of air, finding its own way.
A feather lies on the ground,
long, lush, and of complex substance and form,
once essential to the bird’s form and function.
Even the bird,
relying so heavily on its feathers for form, movement, and survival,
molts and looses critical parts of itself to maintain its dynamic essence and functional existence,
growing into its fullest capacity.
It does not wallow in the loss of its parts.
It revels in the new found strength and skill that comes from letting go
and reforming with integrity
and wholeness
over and over again.
I came into this world knowing only me.
Somewhere along the way,
As I grew to know there were others,
I let them define who I came to be.
I thought I should follow.
And as a child, like a duckling, I did.
For that was my only sure source of food, shelter, survival.
But along the way, I noticed
I could forage, swim, and tuck my beak into my own wings
in a way unique to me.
It didn’t mean the others were wrong…
I just didn’t seem to be an exact fit to how they did these things.
I wrestled with knowing that I could make it on my own.
I convinced myself that I still needed to follow and be how and what they dictated.
And then one day, I gave it a small try.
I wandered a little farther away.
I showed up last to the waters edge.
I sat a bit longer in the sun than the rest.
There I found ease and a new sense of knowing.
The aloneness still haunts me from time to time as I am now no longer part of that brood.
And yes swimming on my own takes a new kind of effort.
But I’ve noticed
The others haven’t gone away.
Just their influence over my choices has.
Now we search for food near each other but don’t have to fight for the same piece.
We gather closer together when we need warmth and give space as needed.
We swim in the same waters but no longer in each other’s wake.
It’s a new way of existing,
This coming back to knowing me,
And it seems to be just the way it is supposed to be.
Sometimes the light is too bright.
It is quick, and big, and so expansive.
Uncomfortable.
Unfamiliar.
Intimidating.
Too adventurous.
It feels great,
But a little unsafe.
Taking sips.
Feeling cautious.
Going slow.
Becoming curious.
Letting it tingle and flicker.
Allowing glimmers of ease.
Breathe by breath,
Becoming just a little lighter,
Peeling open with an achiness and stiffness,
Untangling and unfurling,
Nourished and relaxed by the light.
Beginning to awaken and transition.
Now softness and trust expand.
Permission granted to feel,
To release,
To become
Something else.
Freedom to be, anew.
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.
I came into this world far from perfect.
I came into this world, carrying a satchel of burdens, broken pieces, and suffering.
I came into this world to learn that whatever imperfections,
whatever brokenness,
whatever missing parts,
I am no less complete.
I am no less whole.
I am no less beautiful.
I am no less worthy.
I am no less valuable.
In fact, I am more striking,
more exceptional,
more capable,
more intriguing,
and more powerful,
as I embrace the contrast.
Unpacking the contents of the satchel,
I bravely weave together all the pieces with a thread of light and love that enjoys a lack of symmetry,
dances in the gaps,
Expands to fill the holes,
and revels in the spaces.
It is in the imperfections, the scars of journeys past, and the history that we carry,
That we remember the inner layers and the threads of who we truly are.
Not coy,
confident.
Not tethered,
anchored.
Not drifting,
opening.
Rooted in the earth.
Expanding the mind,
not with thought derived from past experiences but with ideas inspired by the unknown.
Capable.
Clear.
Strong.
Assured not in the direction in which I will head but in the magnificence of who and where I am right now.
For when the stillness and quiet fade,
I will continue to embody grace and power.
I will not forget that I am
omnipotent.
Step softly, so that the heart of the earth feels the massage of your gentle touch and yet you leave no visible marks on her outer edges.
Speak confidently with love so that your words are heard clearly without hurting.
Experience wide open spaces without taking up residency or ownership.
Follow the rising sun as the rippling wake of warmth washing over the landscape.
Offer cool crevices like the moon without swallowing up the light.
Be your most wild, magnificent, vibrant self, touching the world lightly and leaving an indelible mark.
How can something weeping be so beautiful?
Branches sinking towards the ground,
heavy with the promise of spring.
Blossoms like tears,
dripping from overflowing eyes.
Swaying soulfully in the wind, the blossoms sing a song not of loss but of rebirth.
These branches remind us to remain soft,
to bend and hang low,
to let life flow.
See the beauty and freshness that comes with letting go.
With the same courage that the tree has in these uncertain temperatures and conditions to bravely unfurl its blossoms,
weeping thoroughly,
signs of growth,
remind us of the beauty in letting our tears flow
for behind them comes a richness of life and growth
the likes of which have never been seen or felt before.
On the other side of the door
Is a bright spacious light
Guiding me into confidence,
Inviting my voice to be heard,
My gifts to be shared.
I replace worry with curiosity,
Hunger with satiation,
Hope with appreciation,
And old patterns and beliefs
With the great, beautiful unknown.
Flashes of doubt and distractions hold me back, producing a veiled illusion that I’m not ready.
I was born ready.
I am here to be curious.
I am here to expand,
To learn
To grow
To create again and again,
To step more and more into me.
The hinges are well-greased,
There are no locks.
Softly I focus my gaze,
Clear my throat,
Open my heart,
And turn the knob.
Monday Mindfulness 