Shifting
Swirling
Overlapping
Never separate
Never fully one
Dark and light blending
No clear definition
Stormy or clearing
All sources of nourishment
Endless gifts
Purpose in all.
Ever Changing Skies
Tag Archives: purpose
Reclaiming Ground
Cracks in the foundation.
Gotta dig deeper.
Move more dirt.
Secure the footings.
Rising fear like flooding waters.
Climbing higher
Full of frailty
Mounting doubt
Insecurity
in the instability
existence threatened
Could it all crumble?
Maybe it should.
Digging deep.
Bedazzled
My body is a temple, golden and glowing.
My heart is a treasure chest bedazzled and sacred.
My mind is a granite stone vault protecting all that is known.
Ease, kindness, and clarity are the keys that unlock each one,
The breath the foundation on which all are secure.
It is my job to keep them all sacred and shimmering, accessible and strong.
Awake and aware, I guide myself with each breath through the healing and care needed to nurture and polish every surface, every corner,
So that every bit of me shines
Confidently,
Joyfully,
Magnificently,
And every bit of me knows it.
Waking Up Happy
This morning, just as dawn broke in the sky, my eyes fluttered open.
Immediately my body tensed as I filled my head with to-do items, remaining self-criticism of all my failures and missed deadlines and opportunities of the day before, and doubts about whether I could make anything worthwhile out of today.
And just before I peeled back the covers and dashed off to start another arduous day, I wondered what was it like when I would just wake up happy?
There must have been a time in life when my first thoughts weren’t of the past or future but of noticing right now,
Where I simply noticed the cool of the morning air on my cheeks, the stillness of my body, the comfort of my bed.
A time when I felt whole, complete and not in a rush to hurry on or recoil into hiding.
I felt my way back into my body with a kind reacquaintance as if welcoming back an old and dear friend.
I noticed little sounds and followed them rhythmically in my mind sometimes as they travelled to me and sometimes back to their source.
I made no plan for what was next.
And on the voice that travels through the cells of my body softly said
This is love,
This is joy,
This is who I am.
I waited and waited there until that one memory resurfaced of that time when I awoke like this…or at least it conjured the feeling I had awoken like this.
I felt into that fully…waking up as enough, waking up with my heart open, waking up in love with myself and knowing that anything is possible when I wake up happy.
Abounding Possibilities
It’s easy to get overwhelmed by the possibilities we have for abundance.
The interesting thing is that the more we feel a need to search for it, desire it, and perceive a lack of it, we forget it’s always there.
Abundance is sourced from gratitude.
Gratitude is the present moment awareness of the natural flow of love and goodness in our lives.
Gratitude arises from grace.
Grace is one’s capacity to fill a life’s destiny as opposed to filling life densely with action that opens us to joy.
When we can sit back, stop striving, and peel back the layers of perceived lack and suffering, we find that life abounds with possibilities.
The more open and creative we become in filling our life’s destiny the more we attune to the natural flow of abundance.
What we are creating is not abundance itself but a means by which it can freely surface, brightening our connection with joy and love.
On a branch
Let’s just meet on a little branch somewhere,
nestled in between the flowers,
shaded by a tall leafy tree.
We can find a little nourishment,
share a little love,
not limited by the constructs of time
or burdened by emotions or heavy thoughts.
Let’s meet on a little branch somewhere
and consider doing this more often.
Pollinating
Moving from experience to experience, fertilizing each moment with the lingering imprint from where I have been.
Carrying just enough with me to grow a place to land tomorrow.
Taking my time right here and now to nourish and enjoy myself is the only way to ensure that enough of this experience sticks to me fruitfully.
Life flowers fully before me when I linger where I am and carry only the good stuff with me.
Likeness to Lillies
I imagine to the universe we are much like day lilies,
endless varieties,
no two alike.
Ages in the making,
we are relatively predictable in our growing,
blooming just for an instant.
The landscape of our world is ever changed by each little bud and blossom as it pops briefly open and vanishes instantly, leaving just its memory imprinted on the wind in its unique and lasting fragrance.
Contain Me
For each of us there is a layer that surrounds and holds our thoughts and feelings, that ties physical material existence to a sense of being. Built into the walls of that container are our beliefs, values, and desires, ever connected and blending with the feelings of others. These characteristics are what give the container strength but can also become places of vulnerability, weakness, and destruction. Stress fractures can begin to appear over time in the container where the values, beliefs, and habits are challenged, become inflexible and brittle.
Signs of wear or weakness are not markers of fault in the container, but a means for assessing whether repair or replacement could be useful. It may be the values and beliefs woven into that section are ready for reconditioning.
When I visualize the materials, tools, and mending — stitching the fabric, soldering the metal, molding the clay – and give myself permission to reshape the container, perhaps even layering different media, I can begin to fill and empty with experiences in a way that projects and protects the me I have come to be.
Contrails
Every morning through my window I watch the airplanes carve a path through the sky, a seemingly straight line built of swirling vortices.
The pilots consider themselves on a steadfast course, honed to the coordinates entered.
But as I watch the swath cover the sky, I see that one path dissipates into a thousand threads of opportunity to go in a different direction.
What one perceives as the path another sees as the starting point. A straight line swirls and morphs into a cloud.
There is nothing wrong with the trajectory on which I ride, but I find it quite fun to imagine where else I might go.
Monday Mindfulness 