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.
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.
Everlasting love
is the treasure born
of the threads of reconciliation
— acknowledging, trusting, accepting, healing —
the eudaimonic unity
of the heart and mind.
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?
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.
My friend, we are not unicorns,
But dragons!
Full of fire.
Welling with generosity.
Sensitive to every tide
and shift of the barometer.
Fueled by passion.
Righteous in ancient tradition.
Bleeding tenderness and hope.
So sorely misunderstood
and under valued.
Especially when we love most deeply,
reveal our sensitive nature,
and suppress our power.
We submit to others
so that they can feel strong.
We are so powerful that we can suppress our very own needs,
to the point of falling ill and weak,
until inside us awakens the dragon heart
and we become so much love,
so much joy,
that the entire world lights up from our magnificence
and all doubt and judgment fades,
revealing our scales,
our scars,
and our wounds.
Stepping
proudly,
unapologetically,
fully
into our power.
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.
.
Root my grounding cord deep into the earth.
Open my mind to the wisdom of the universe.
Flow endless love and joy through the river of my heart.
Fuel me with confidence and clarity.
Allow me to be a humble reservoir of harmony and balance,
in the space between earth and sky,
in this space of being human.
Feet to the earth,
Surrounded by air.
Sounds of rustling leaves, branches, and brush accompany every step.
The whispers and shadows of the forest
offer glimpses of light and dark,
solemn quiet and crashing thunder,
scents of decay and signs of new birth.
Never alone, the choice always exists.
To walk with the
doubting self,
the fearful heart,
the closed mind.
Or to soften into
the grace,
the power,
the love,
and
the joy
of choosing
to walk alone
through these woods.
I can.
I will.
I am.
Because someone needs it.
My voice,
my intellect,
my pulchritude,
my courage,
my strength,
my kindness,
my grace,
deserve to be
seen,
heard,
felt,
held.
I will make a big, beautiful, bold, magnificent mark on the world…
Because I already have.
Flock to my greatness.
Celebrate me.
Show me pure,
authentic,
loyal,
sweet,
daring,
unconditional love,
the same way I am showing up for you in this world.
Monday Mindfulness 