Sitting here amongst the relics of old memories and life experiences, the edges now crumbled, some barely recognizable in their origin, purpose or story.
Just formed yesterday or residue of my ancestors’ journeys, the structure erodes.
There is sadness and longing in the erosion.
As the structure of what was folds back into the landscape, the experiences of yesterday become the soft touch of wind on my skin, the journey of tomorrow the warm light in the sky before me,
I need nothing more than the light and wind to remind me of where I have been and where I might next go.
The memories eroding in my mind become the bedrock of my being.
As I push and pull upon it, a shape begins to form. The temperature, texture, and identity of that clay grow with me.
As my best efforts produce an uneven, imbalanced figure, one to which I have nonetheless become attached, I realize more work needs to be done.
To bring the work into balance requires undoing what I have created, detaching from what is currently there before me.
The chemical reaction in my brain, the visceral response in my body, and the tugging of my thoughts and emotions make reworking the clay painful.
To restore balance, I must pull the familiar apart. I must disintegrate the work. It is not without labor and discomfort that I destroy the familiar and let go of what I knew as my best work.
I tremble with fear and doubt – I cannot imagine a greater work than before.
And there it is. After the pain of disintegration comes release from what was…freedom from past bests.
Pleasure and pride arise as the new shape takes form, coming closer into balance.
With faith and perseverance, disintegration leads to evolution.
Monday Mindfulness 