It is not my intent to be uncooperative or argumentative. I never rise in the morning with a plan to see others as difficult or ungrateful. But, soon antigens like stress, fatigue, and illness feed into the chaos of my day and next thing you know otherwise favorable relationships begin to sour.
It is easy to defend my actions, to blame others, and to deny the fear that gives rise to my crustiness. But, for what? Why is it that just when I need kindness most I fuel the unrest?
If we seek empathy, acceptance, and compassion from others, we must first practice it ourselves. Reflecting on how we come across and how we see others may help us to be more patient with the “cantankerous” people who cross our paths each day…and that just might make it a little less likely that we will be the cantankerous ones.
A stirring, an imbalance, an unthinkable happens and there I am…swirling in thoughts and emotions.
Although we seem unconnected, we are tethered undeniably to others’ experiences, their pain, their suffering, their anger. Their division and righteousness becomes mine, even when I don’t want it to be.
And then comes the arduous task of sifting. Sifting through the messages in all of this…not what it means to my community or the statement it makes about my society, but the fundamental lesson for me in the perceived tragedies and suffering that stand before me.
I dare not admit how my thoughts flow in circular motions…how I cannot point at the right or wrong…it all just seems to come back to me, to the fear I have that any one of them could be me.
These labels belong to my deepest shadows and like threads dancing on a loom, have long since been woven into the fabric of me.
So, I turn my anger to the scariest one in an attempt to cut that thread. And then the story unfolds, my experience is defined by calling out the grossest attributes of others although deep down inside I know they are still undeniably tethered to me, undeniably me.
It is then that I must fill with compassion, for each of them and for me. I must allow these situations and the contrast they provide to take me back to the center of my being, to turn inward and calm the swirling from the inside. Instead of needing the contrast to tug at the fabric from the outside as if separate from me, I turn inward to reweave the threads, to smooth the snag so that the fabric on the outside lays out more seamlessly.
Each time the contrast begins to pull and tug at me again, I slow the loom, treasure that thread, and remember that no matter what any of us have done or who any of us seem to be, the threads are the same – it is a complex fabric that tethers you and me.
“Is he a snowflake?” she asked. And, in the silent pause beyond the question, I truly saw him…magnificent…sparkling…a treasure floating in the cool, gray sky. Born of lunar energy, peaceful, bending, flowing, he works so hard to fit in, to be hot and fiery, but that is not his nature.
I could fill myself with worry and doubt about how this world full of tapas – heat and fire – will surely melt him. But instead I must believe in the strength of his molecular bonds and the cool subtle wind currents to carry him.
There are countless others in the sky with him, racing to connect and build a world of peace and stillness.
It is in the cool, gray sky where they fit best. So, I will give it to them. I will be the moon and the clouds. I will be the cool, present, flowing, calm sky that allows them to sparkle and gather.
And while this sky may seem less desirable and the darkness that soothes them uncomfortable for many, it is their time to shine. It is time to let them feel their strength and fortitude, to be just the way they are.
In this cool, gray space of unconditional acceptance, they sparkle. In the serenity, they can leave behind their struggle to fit in, their fight to find others like them, and the worry and self-doubt that constantly tugs at them.
It is time for these beautiful snowflakes to know their magnificence and for our world to benefit from giving them a space to thrive.
Precious little glimpses of life’s greatest gifts hiding just beneath the surface.
I could easily pass them by if not for the jagged edges that reach up, poking at my being.
This uneven landscape calls for greater awareness.
I draw upon my deepest core for balance so that the pressure and discomfort do not become too great.
Those jagged edges remind me that I have not chosen the easy path, but I am capable of walking this path just the same.
Those jagged edges belong to the moments that will require the greatest courage and persistence, but unquestionably will cause rise to the fullest form of me.
My heart feels quickly, as if flowing on subtle currents in the air. Ego moves faster, thrusting against the wind. Emotions lag behind but still they dance closely together, ego and feelings.
Guided by the dance, I strut and swirl around with urgency, bravado, and sprawling feathers. Responding to surface winds, impulsively flying in a defensive posture, these auto-pilot movements are built on the residue of my stories.
Something shifts and suddenly I am still. For a moment, my intuition takes the lead. There is no need for flight , no rush to action. I know all I need to know as I slow these frenetic motions.
I land. I unruffle. In the not-doing, I am even more than I was just moments before. I hang here in the peace and stillness of slow-looking.
In the midst of the storm, I feel small and helpless. There is fear that the storm will overcome me.
I know of the danger in advance, but I ignore the warnings to back away. Instead, I hunker down. That is when the floods start, conflict swirls in all directions and visibility is reduced to nothing.
My heart pounds. I struggle to catch my breath, to make logical choices, and to know how to care for me and those around me.
And then I remember back to the time when as the hurricane developed I watched it from above. I saw it’s wild bands expanding, its dark center churning. From above I could see its boundaries. From above I noticed clusters of calm, bright sky swirling in the darkness.
In every storm since, I have acknowledged that I have a choice to turn away and even when I neglect that choice, I can find calm within the bands of chaos if I can just remember flying above it.
A cake baked rich and full calls us to dive in. Taste buds perk up, enzymes dance with anticipation, the whole body awakens to receive the treat. In one bite everything else around fades away…thoughts, senses, feelings all tie into this moment. There is a full sense of aliveness, of nourishment, of awareness and special connection in knowing that this bite can never be duplicated and would never need to be. This bite fills the space of needing anything else. At one in this moment with this sustenance, we know it is enough. That is all we need to feel complete, full, satisfied.
Each moment in life is like that bite of cake, so rich, so filling, and completely satisfying when we are aware, when we allow ourselves to be fully consumed and to fully consume the deliciousness.
The waters span wide. The air open and clear. We fly in a world of abundance yet so often we swirl in competition for the perfect bite. Jockeying for our place in the sun. Diving deep for what feeds us with such reckless abandon. But, when we soar gently on the currents of the air, watch intently for the tell-tale shadow that slides below the glistening surface of the water, in that moment the abundance shines clearly …soaring and diving, not in fear of what others might take from us, rather in knowing there is plenty and we can in every moment be freely and completely fed.
There is a sweet moment in sailing when the two sails, the main and the jib, are trimmed so precisely — balanced, as a captain would call it — that the boat seems to sail itself, rising on the wind, gliding through the water, you can even let go of the wheel and the boat will stay its course., tuning itself to the angles of the wind, knowing what it needs best.
Our make up is not much different than that of a sailboat. For, when we connect body and mind in seamless balance, the vessel of intuition takes flight and the higher Self is free to let go of the wheel, to trust each piece to do its part in divine equilibrium to sail us forward most efficiently, most powerfully, most joyfully and full of ease.
Some call it a true art to be a captain who sails a balanced ship. Take the time to trim your sails, to feel the wind, to know what it is you need, and to find your balance.
Tucked into the crevices,
Monday Mindfulness 