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!!
Johann Hari once said, “We grieve because we have loved. We grieve because the person we have lost mattered to us.”
Grief is not a linear process.
It is an ebb and flow of emotions
and choices that we navigate,
between holding on and letting go.
Like this water,
tears move,
ever changing in shape and patterns.
The flowers that bloom and subsequently fade away
help us find our way back
to a place in our hearts,
to remember
the beauty,
the joy,
and the love,
to soften for just a moment
the pain,
the aloneness,
the fear of having to live beyond this very moment.
Set it all down,
come into this moment.
Let it hold you.
Let it nurture you,
stroking your cheek,
embracing you with softness and sweetness.
For the next few moments,
let everything else go.
You are loved,
and held,
more than you will ever know.
Take time to rest.
Time to feel.
And time to heal.
In this moment there is nothing more important than
the next breath.
Feel me sitting right there next to you,
in the center of your softly beating heart,
exchanging a wink and a smile, surrounded by light,
knowing that we have loved
and are loved so dearly.
Let it all flow…
Hot and messy
like a volcano.
Root down and rise up,
Stop your feet,
Get low to the ground.
Burst with great force,
triumphantly,
unapologetically,
into the sky
Release the big
and scary
and frustrating.
Shake like a wet dog when you feel stuck or over burdened.
Curl inward and rest until you remember your power.
You are magnificent.
You
are
magnificent.
If our morals and beliefs suggest that we should all
love,
support,
and guide one another,
then wouldn’t true,
authentic
moral conviction
show up in the form of
grace
and forgiveness,
not shackles?
A calling back of the misguided to the embrace of
patience and gentleness,
not humiliation
and chastisement.
The invitation
to not be isolated,
but to come closer.
To take accountability.
To grieve in communion
for the loss
of others wounded by their actions
and
for their own internal suffering.
To wail in the arms of
a community
that shoulders mistakes,
missteps,
and misdeeds,
with understanding and humility,
no matter how egregious
on the surface.
To shed tears together to cleanse,
not punish,
embrace,
not discard,
teach,
not convict.
Fresh water mixes with salt.
The gateway brackish,
murky,
churning.
Swimming against the angry currents of
struggle,
despair,
and loss.
Riding the tides with
flexibility
and fortitude,
trust
and patience.
Constantly changing conditions stir hope and determination.
Survival requires adaptability.
Leaving the familiar marshes of the small, quiet stream
to swim in the wide open playground of the ocean.
This choice
a devotion.
This river of tears
leads to an ocean of joy.
Curled up in a tiny ball,
breath pressing against muscles and bones heavy with the weight of not knowing.
The voice trying to find its footing,
wanting so desperately to be guided to its answers by the outside,
knowing it must dig deep and mine its own direction authentically from within.
In between each sigh,
a tear drops to the floor,
the only sign of motion
in this otherwise still
and down thrown body.
The simultaneous fullness
and emptiness
pulling at its core.
To be all
and
nothing.
Not afraid
to be afraid.
Loss and grief are proof that you have loved.
Love is the gateway to joy,
joy to peace.
You have loved and
known the essence of being loved.
Let the suffering move through you.
Rip yourself open with this grief.
Purify yourself with tears.
Beat your fists on the ground.
Pound your aching heart.
Take and give every punch with gratitude.
Shatter the barrier to feeling it all.
In the shallows of this darkness that accompany the pain,
Let every pain pour out.
Drop for a moment into the stillness,
this vast emptiness your refuge.
And, just as suddenly as the suffering began, a small space,
cleansed by your tears,
and broken open through your courage,
will begin to fill with sweetness, softness, kindness.
A slow, gradual unfolding will take place
as joy reveals itself
shyly,
purely,
authentically,
and more richly
than ever before,
because you have loved
and are willing to love and be loved again.
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.
For so long I have worked to convert false and illusory love into something genuine and real.
I took every secret, every lie, and tried to make good of it, convert it with my own love, and hold it in my heart as if somehow sacred.
It cut me off from believing I was worthy or capable of experiencing authentic love…so much so that I lost the connection to my own self love.
My heart never forgot. It diligently safeguarded that little piece of me while it held all the other illusions and hopes.
The portion of my heart that held onto dreams of apologies and repair finally grew so heavy and full of empty promises that it ripped itself away. Painfully it twisted and tugged, like an overripe piece of fruit trying to resist gravity’s pull. It finally fell away. Oh the sorrow. Even letting go of something rancid and rotting is still a severing, a deep and real loss.
As that fruit of my broken heart smashed to the ground, its void still consuming my awareness, little seeds of potentiality embedded in the ground. I saw in them hopes that somehow we have all learned from these lessons of untrue love.
Somehow we will remember that without filling there can be no emptying. Without love there is no hope. Without unabashed openness and courage, the fruit cannot ripen and go on to somehow grow into something beautiful.
And in the meantime, the void from the fallen fruit begins to fill with new leaves.
Monday Mindfulness 