Do not worry, my friend…we know the way. To stumble or feel unsure does not require that we abandon the walk. Rather, it is simply calling upon us to step more genuinely and confidently across the stones, to move more freely to the rhythm of our own knowing. We have been preparing to walk these stones, this path, for a lifetime. You know the way.
Perhaps just like with so much else in our lives, these days are calling for us to release ourselves from engrained beliefs, resist holding onto outdated information, and let go of old ways of doing things. These days are providing an ideal space for new and beautiful growth, the kind that emerges from sloughing off the decay.
My body is a part of me. It tells me when it needs nourishment and rest.
I can manifest the most horrific diseases by ignoring the signs in my body that are saying slow down, ease off, make a change.
There is no way my body can stop being ill until I care for it.
It is time for me to take responsibility for the way I feel. I do not need to be sick to care for myself. Sick is a reminder that I have neglected to care for me.
These are real symptoms – not of some outside force taking over, but a means of communication from the inside – me sending a message to me that something is out of alignment – the schedule, a relationship, nutrition, work…my connection with me.
Each of us has ignored signs that our bodies needed more care until we were really sick, feeling that powering through is a sign of strength. We don’t need to go there.
True strength lies in respecting myself enough to rest, eat well, choose to receive kindness and love from others and to forgive and let go of those who are in a position to diminish my sense of worthiness.
My body should be held and loved by me as a baby bird that has fallen from its nest. Given a chance to be seen, heard, and to heal.
When I carry my body as it carries me, my body allows me to witness the capacity I have for deep love and profound peace and healing.
Serenely, attentively, and lovingly I focus on cradling the dangling roots of a small plant as they uncoil themselves from the snug inside edges of their familiar small pot. I invite the plant to settle into a new place to live. Grace, peace, and fluidity guide the roots gently into their new home. The plant is ready to grow as this new pot offers room to branch out.
The transplanting has nonetheless been stressful and will require new resources and support from the inside and out in order for this little plant to thrive.
Planting complete, I hop up quickly, losing focus and in a furry of thoughts and feelings I upheave my own roots, tumbling down onto the ground right next to my newly potted plant.
I have lost my footing, my roots now tangled and exposed…some broken, others barely hanging on. The damage rocks my whole being.
And in that very moment, a little voice inside me says, “Be kind, attentive and serenely focused. Lovingly tuck those roots into new, unfamiliar soil and invite them to take hold, to uncoil in a new direction.”
Not without pain, focused effort, and belief that I will be stronger, I expand my roots. I find resources on the inside and outside to grow deep. I settle into a new space of being and in this nurturing of my roots, I realize an enhanced capacity to flower, bear fruit, and thrive in a way previously unattainable.
Every tumble, every root exposed is an opportunity to uncoil and lovingly replant, to be bigger and stronger than I ever was before.
You can’t fake healing. It’s gotta come from the heart, filled with love and kindness and an unconditional knowing you are worthy of wellness.
You must believe that you are worthy of wellness…always you are worthy of wellness.
The pain weighs so heavy on my body,
Pressing deep into my chest,
Down into my bones,
Constricting every drop of my being.
Yet, the breath still flows
Light and free.
There is courage, hope, relief
As I recall that the pain is just a part of me.
No matter how sad, or mad, or defeated I want to feel,
The pain can never be bigger than me
Because the pain is just a part of me.
When the storm rolls in, do you spread your branches and invite it in?
Do you tingle with anticipation as the wind presses against your skin?
As the sky darkens and clouds cluster, do you marvel at their majestic dance?
Do you breathe in the energy, feel the power, as it slowly builds its strength?
Do you know the humble quiet of just watching that storm grow?
Flashes of light, ripples of rumble, dewy droplets in the sky.
As it slowly wraps around you, can you hold peace in your heart and know your courage and your own might to welcome whatever it may bring?
There is the storm
and there is you.
Compassion is love in action.
When you are compassionate with others, you accept them in a space of humble kindness. You are not excusing action or inaction on their part, rather you are fully acknowledging that the action or inaction is theirs and they are trying to do their best to be their best.
When you are compassionate with yourself, you invite the richest form of healing and growth imaginable within your deepest Self, knowing you are doing your best to be at your best.
Feel the love…unconditionally.
Feel compassion.
Monday Mindfulness 