A flicker of light.
An ease filled pause.
An unfolding leaf.
Signs of new life.
The essence of each breath.
Renewed is love.
Reborn in joy.
Blossoming Hope
Tag Archives: life
Swimming
I came into this world knowing only me.
Somewhere along the way,
As I grew to know there were others,
I let them define who I came to be.
I thought I should follow.
And as a child, like a duckling, I did.
For that was my only sure source of food, shelter, survival.
But along the way, I noticed
I could forage, swim, and tuck my beak into my own wings
in a way unique to me.
It didn’t mean the others were wrong…
I just didn’t seem to be an exact fit to how they did these things.
I wrestled with knowing that I could make it on my own.
I convinced myself that I still needed to follow and be how and what they dictated.
And then one day, I gave it a small try.
I wandered a little farther away.
I showed up last to the waters edge.
I sat a bit longer in the sun than the rest.
There I found ease and a new sense of knowing.
The aloneness still haunts me from time to time as I am now no longer part of that brood.
And yes swimming on my own takes a new kind of effort.
But I’ve noticed
The others haven’t gone away.
Just their influence over my choices has.
Now we search for food near each other but don’t have to fight for the same piece.
We gather closer together when we need warmth and give space as needed.
We swim in the same waters but no longer in each other’s wake.
It’s a new way of existing,
This coming back to knowing me,
And it seems to be just the way it is supposed to be.
Bare Roots
The rest of the trees in the woods seem to stand so confident, so steady.
The storms have not hindered their ability to carry on.
And there I lay right next to them…toppled to the ground,
Root exposed.
So vulnerable and feeling like such a failure.
No longer am I the source of shade, fresh air, and refuge for the birds.
How could I be so weak?
How could I let so many down?
As I lay across the forest floor I feel the earth not just at my base but nestling in all along my spine, roots to branches.
I feel the soft mud, leaves of seasons past, and creatures that inhabit the ground delighting in my arrival.
New spaces to be cradled, to play in, and explore.
I am no longer giving nourishment through my leaves and breath but I am feeding the forest now with my whole being.
I am no longer drawing from the source of nourishment at my roots but I am the source itself.
With roots exposed, like bearing the deepest corners of my heart, I have nothing to protect and everything to give.
Fallen and seemingly over my prime, I am just now realizing that my purpose was not to stand tall but to fall into an even more grand state of being.
Am I?
Am I’m the only one dancing?
The only one smiling for no particular reason at all?
Am I the only one pausing to catch the sparkle of light dodging in and out of the branches of the trees?
Is it my ears alone that hear the ripples and gurgling of the creek
And the silence of the snow?
Does only my heart jump and my belly jiggle with laughter as the squirrel tries to carry the nut too big for its mouth
And the duck rolls over in the pond with its rather ungraceful landing?
Am I the only in awe of the fullness of the warmth of the sun as it caresses my face?
Am I the only one that delights as raindrops dance across my head and body?
Am I the only one who feels the love of all creation wrap around me and hold me tight every time I pause to be still and rest?
Am I the only one brought to tears of joy in the beauty of it all?
Rising from the Rubble
I had no idea that as I tore down the wall to rescue my abandoned self that I would nearly smother in the rubble.
Even when loss is experienced in a way that relieves abuse, abandonment and betrayal, the disruption it causes and the pain of breaking through the barriers to healing oneself are great.
And those who helped to build the wall, who reveled in the obstructing and ostracizing of that true self, walk away unphased by the devastation left behind. They go on to build thicker walls around themselves and others.
While their departure ensures the wall they left behind is not reinforced, it hurts that they do nothing to help remove the heavy stones, broken shards, and pieces of what they worked so relentlessly to build.
That burden rests on the shoulders of the self behind the wall. One by one the stones are slid aside. The dust settles. The light starts to shine through the piles and pieces as the opening grows wider and wider.
The power in seeing that self emerge, pale and weak at first – labored breathing, heavy and slow moving, still patiently and methodically forging ahead and finding its way – is so sweet to witness…even in its efforting.
That self digging out from the rubble need not feel animosity, anger, or resentment. No, that self is not needing to be rescued.
That self is triumphing in the freedom of self-acknowledgment, self-care, and self-worth.
Much of the power in healing comes from the self not needing to be rescued. The power is in putting aside the rubble and freeing oneself.
Clarity fleeting
So, I sit here day after day wallowing in my mistakes, misfortunes, pain, and suffering.
I hold onto them in my body like appendages…the tension in my muscles, the crookedness of my bones, the heaviness of my head…and heart.
I carry them as reminders of my faults and flaws.
And yet, when I sit in stillness, when I fill and empty with awareness on my breath, I find only peace…ease…joy.
Remembering…
…the gentle touch of others, through their hands, hearts, and smiles.
…the power of my cognition to work the puzzle pieces of every day life.
… the essence of my kindness and great capacity for love.
…the gifts of receivership and gratitude that present so abundantly and frequently.
I’ve been conditioned to hold onto and dwell on the lack and sorrows as if they belong permanently.
Love, joy, and freedom are somehow deemed as temporary.
Today I give myself permission to release it all – to breathe in and out with equanimity in every moment, to imbibe and cleanse, receive and release, storing none as defining me and simply allowing it all to live through me without reliving or retaining any of it as me.
Clearing the channels of experience so that all flows, informs, and re-minds me that I am everything and defined by nothing.
Flowering Power
It’s a great gift we receive in every energetic exchange that we experience – the opportunity to…
absorb
utilize
diffuse
relegate
release
or give away
our power.
Feeling into your power or letting it go needs no special circumstances or conditions. It’s simply a choice.
Every time a choice…
Will I feel into my power
Or will I let it go?
Every time a choice.
Living in the space of AND
White flowers
Dark textures
Straight lines
Soft edges
Living wholeness
Dried pieces
Flowing lines
Still emptiness
Warm touches
Cool feeling
Hope and breath
In the spaces
Photo courtesy of Susan Kerr.
Resonance
There is something timeless in the rolling sea.
Individuality is lost as droplets leap into the air then instantly become consumed by the primal tugging, pulling, pushing, of the random rhythms.
There is something familiar in the curling, crashing surf. A sound and feeling calling me into its whisper, a deafening roar somehow barely audible.
It speaks of protecting me,
clearing my hurts and the world’s imperfections even before I know of them.
The spray catches my cheek.
Resonance of life force and love pulsing on the tide, pulsing through me.
I am consumed, transported back to the space and time when all I knew was the wooshing, whirling roar of silence in the womb.
My individuality is imperceivable.
I know precisely who I am…I am all.
It is with this magnificence that I crest the next wave dancing momentarily, singularly in the air and time and time again am happily reabsorbed into the flow,
into the moment of truth where I know I am the love and the life force that pulses with and through it all.
I am the resonance.
Reflections
I am an open landscape on which you paint your experience.
I mirror back to you just what you put out there.
If you aren’t sure of what you are painting,
pause,
step back,
clear your mind,
open your heart.
Come sit a spell in my grand, vast emptiness before you start to fill the canvas with elements that may not produce the landscape best for the both of us.
Tread gently on the rolling hills,
pause and watch the rising and setting sun,
see ocean…
flowers…
wild flowing grasses…
Deep wooded forests.
The landscape is yours in which to play.
Just remember that whatever you add to this landscape – the meeting of your choice of media, colors and textures – is yours to assimilate and accommodate, not mine.
Monday Mindfulness 