Hope twinkles like tiny stars.
Courage forms in the constellations of small hopes coming together.
Darkness besets as guidance,
a backdrop for creation,
clarity, and definition.
Once the constellation appears,
even when darkness fades,
even when engulfed in light,
the stars are connected,
the constellation remains,
for once seen it can never be forgotten.
A bird flies overhead,
magnificent in its form and grace,
perfection in flight.
So present in its existence, movement, and being.
So seemingly joyful and at ease, even as it efforts to ride the currents of air, finding its own way.
A feather lies on the ground,
long, lush, and of complex substance and form,
once essential to the bird’s form and function.
Even the bird,
relying so heavily on its feathers for form, movement, and survival,
molts and looses critical parts of itself to maintain its dynamic essence and functional existence,
growing into its fullest capacity.
It does not wallow in the loss of its parts.
It revels in the new found strength and skill that comes from letting go
and reforming with integrity
and wholeness
over and over again.
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.
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.
I came into this world far from perfect.
I came into this world, carrying a satchel of burdens, broken pieces, and suffering.
I came into this world to learn that whatever imperfections,
whatever brokenness,
whatever missing parts,
I am no less complete.
I am no less whole.
I am no less beautiful.
I am no less worthy.
I am no less valuable.
In fact, I am more striking,
more exceptional,
more capable,
more intriguing,
and more powerful,
as I embrace the contrast.
Unpacking the contents of the satchel,
I bravely weave together all the pieces with a thread of light and love that enjoys a lack of symmetry,
dances in the gaps,
Expands to fill the holes,
and revels in the spaces.
It is in the imperfections, the scars of journeys past, and the history that we carry,
That we remember the inner layers and the threads of who we truly are.
Within this great time of change, unsettledness, and loss, comes an urge for clarity, knowing, and security.
It becomes more and more elusive with grander and grander efforts to find a connection, a grounding, a holding on place.
Clawing furiously at the earth, desperate for a sense of being held, folding so close to its surface, the breath and body become lost, unable to find the satisfaction of security.
Perhaps the rooting down into connection is not what is needed.
Rather, the courage to rise up to it,
To release the bonds and tethers that built an illusion of having a home.
To become the ether,
The soft chord that aligns with the core of our being,
That has no home because it is our home,
That needs no latching on as its connection is found in the releasing, trusting, and cutting of cords.
The ether holds timeless wisdom in quietude,
A space where the walls of understanding, reason, and storytelling are replaced with wide expanses of clarity, simplicity, ease, and knowing.
Ethereal connections need no validation or roots but remind us of unity in the unknown.
It is time not to hunker down into the ordinary, the familiar, and the history, but to embark on a journey of discovery, exploration, and love within,
A greater belonging,
A time to take flight.
There in the ether exists
An absence of need,
A discovery of true essence,
And the freedom to truly be home.
I follow my breath to the small, tender space of my heart.
This is where I find security and assurance.
This is where in the quiet and stillness I hear the sweet voice of my Self.
I feel the very center point of my existence.
From this center, I am clear as to what I am and what I am not.
From this center, I am kind, courageous, creative, curious,
and, oh, so, very smart and strong.
From this center, there is enough of me to hold both of us joyfully in our play as humans.
From this center, bright light radiates out and all around me full of unconditional love that doesn’t just give and fix and please.
No, this bright, magnificent light protects, defines, and honors my deepest self which in return brings forward my best self for all of us.
Centered in my Self I know more clearly who I am, and who I am not, washing away fear and doubt, posturing and grasping, and external pressures to conform or contract.
Centered in my Self I experience peace and confidence, ease and joy, harmony and health.
I long to be Self centered.
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.
Step softly, so that the heart of the earth feels the massage of your gentle touch and yet you leave no visible marks on her outer edges.
Speak confidently with love so that your words are heard clearly without hurting.
Experience wide open spaces without taking up residency or ownership.
Follow the rising sun as the rippling wake of warmth washing over the landscape.
Offer cool crevices like the moon without swallowing up the light.
Be your most wild, magnificent, vibrant self, touching the world lightly and leaving an indelible mark.
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?
Monday Mindfulness 