In her enormity,
unruliness,
and most unyielding state,
she is soft,
subtle,
clear in her direction,
ever capable of moving,
shifting,
adapting,
aligned,
attuned,
resonate,
in her power
and beauty.
We drink of her,
ride upon her crests,
sink cradled in her stillness,
follow her home,
allow her to absorb our burdens,
as we find peace by her side.
She reflects back to us always
what we need most to see.
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.
Dark and heavy clouds fill the sky.
There is a moist, chilling feel in the air.
Worry, doubt, and greed swirl on the wind.
At the center of it all,
like an eye opening timidly from a long slumber,
a small space opens.
Unleashed absent effort,
unconditional,
unassuming,
extending unrestrainably outward,
an ancient healing balm,
a penetrating and permiating force,
stirs and
rises up.
It moves and shifts,
overcoming,
discerning,
dissolving,
and shifting.
Without seeking,
or striving,
it appears,
almost effervescently,
greeting all of the
anguish,
pain,
and
suffering
with gentle kindness,
patience,
humility,
and peace.
Love moves from within,
chosen
to be
seen,
felt,
and heard.
.
The field is bloodied.
Swords scattered and strewn.
In the distance, flowers bloom and a river runs cool and deep.
Who are the victors and what have they gained?
What have the defeated truly lost?
Conflict is inevitable but the results are a choice.
To be a victor without gloating.
To be defeated without wallowing.
To receive and face all that comes without fear.
Each day I have the potential to find strength,
balance,
and humility,
regardless of which end of the sword I face.
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Imagine an artist hand-working a tapestry with such precision that it rippled with perfection, had no evidence of flaws in material or craftsmanship, and contained absolutely no mistakes.
Would the artist call it perfect? Would they feel any less insecure in the results of their work? Would they recognize their accomplishment? Could they see their work as flawless? Is there such a thing? Would they want to be? And how would this perfect tapestry be received any differently than any others?
The brave artist announces mistakes not in shame, with excuses, or expecting judgment, but with joy in knowing that imperfections are not signs of our flaws and weaknesses but demonstrations of our beauty – and our capacity for compassion and forgiveness. Imperfections provide opportunities for us to create, again and again, not for the sake of achieving perfection but as play with absolutely no desired outcome other than the act of creating itself.
We need not be embarrassed, fearful, or ashamed in our mistakes. We and others benefit every time we craft with complete vulnerability and humility. Each mistake is important as it leaves space for love to come through.
To the north I find the earth and sky.
The east brings new beginnings.
The west lowers the veil of transition, the mark of endings.
It is in the south where I meet my soul.
We sit and watch the rising and setting sun cast against the earth and sky over and over again.
Humbly and joyfully admiring the ever changing landscape of transitions, the beauty in the unknown as it takes shape each dawn and dusk, and the vast expanse of opportunity in between.
How to be strong and vulnerable.
Look others in the eye.
Listen deeply.
Be Aware.
Allow.
Accept.
Fear less.
Laugh more.
Love.
Root down in humility.
Let love shower over you like a soft spring rain,
The warm rays of peace and ease fill you.
So full, whole and content
That love and joy have no option
But to penetrate existing boundaries,
Bursting, springing, popping out into the world.
Allow self love to bud and peace and joy blossom.
Monday Mindfulness 