Alone,
it rested
below the fresh
and blossoming
bouquet,
forgotten,
dropped.
As if it’s work was done,
the petal fell,
tired,
heavy,
worn.
It left the collective
where it had so faithfully held on,
believing that its beauty lay
in its contribution.
It could hold on no more.
It had to drop away.
It had to pull apart.
In its moment of letting go
and seeming it was done,
that petal
became
its most beautiful
version
of itself.
I can no more be in or out of love
than I can be in or out of my body,
or my breath.
Love is not something temporary,
to be chased,
or clung to.
Love is the essence of freedom,
self expression, and connection.
Love is a state of being
that allows all else to exist.
Recognizing without conforming.
Allowing without absorbing.
Flowing effortlessly between the inner and outer world.
Uniquely connected.
Discerning without differentiating.
Stepping out of the rigid container of familiar and safe
to freely exercise vulnerability and authenticity.
Curious.
Open to the new and opposing.
Existing within this thin permeable membrane.
Maintaining sense of self.
Living deeply and authentically.
I’m not always going to get my way,
but I’m always going to get what’s right for me.
When I let go of forcing outcomes,
stop relying on others for my happiness,
and see obstacles not as a sign of my worth but of my courage and strength,
even what seems like a paralyzing blockage
can be an invitation to take a different path,
go a different way,
or sit right where I am for a moment
and reflect
on the beauty,
awe,
and opportunity
that exists right here,
right now,
just the way things are.
Much gratitude to Shari Irby for contributing this photo.
Where does it end,
the light from the sun
the light of the moon,
the dark of the shadows
the vastness of the sky,
cold of winter,
unfurling of spring?
Where is the line
that separates joy
from sorrow,
excitement
from fear?
What fills the space between earth and sky?
Is it my heart?
My body?
My breath?
In my mind I struggle
to find a separation,
an either or,
a division,
a moment,
where one exists without the other.
I cannot
and therefore
I cannot regret.
I cannot long.
I cannot judge,
right or wrong.
I cannot reject sorrow
or long for joy.
I cannot suffer in darkness or immerse myself fully in light.
I am made of it all.
It is all in me.
Or is none of it?
I am the space that fills
the space between.
I am the end of light,
the beginning of dark.
I am all of the joy and filled with sorrow.
I am the convergence of earth and sky.
I am the meeting place for it all.
I am the “and.”
Standing out
Breaking through
Rising up
Getting messy
Making choices
Accepting consequences
Humbly confident
Unconditionally vulnerable
More freedom
More joy
More love
Giving
Receiving
Most authentically me.
I ask not that you change or conform.
You need not worry if who I am is not who you want me to be.
Let’s not need to hold hands in unity,
but hold hearts with respect.
I will not squash who I am,
or expect you to assimilate.
Even if I do not walk in your shoes, I offer you accompaniment,
so that we are both seen and heard and the rhythm and
harmony of our movement through life,
offers a flavorful contrast
for all the world to remember
the value of their own melody.
Say I love you like a cat,
I trust you like a baby,
I believe in you like a tree,
I know your greatness like a dolphin.
Unleash your heart and
speak your truth…
not your prerogative,
not your thoughts,
nor needs.
Go within and beyond.
Authentic.
Whole.
Honest.
Because the gurgling that arises from your throat in the form of words is but a practiced screening of the vibrational current of your true voice within.
Sit in the silence, until it no longer feels uncomfortable,
until you can speak and listen from that space of clarity,
love,
and peace.
Know that I hear what you say long before the words are formed.
The sky parts,
inviting me closer,
calling me towards something,
no path,
no plan,
to go nowhere
or everywhere.
Just go…
be free.
Is the freedom in the flying or the landing?
Going away or coming home?
Is freedom in the movement,
or the stillness,
in the belonging,
or the aloneness,
in the surrender,
or the embrace?
Freedom is not achieved.
It is a quality of mind.
Could it be that I am afraid to truly be free?
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.
Monday Mindfulness 