Quiet cradles my mind like a blanket of fog embracing the landscape, softening the angles and ridges of criticism, judgment, and doubt.
Pain and suffering become frozen silhouettes. Dark and light meet, their edges fading into one another as if inseparable.
It is in this space where I find freedom to explore the notion of existing without shame or blame. I don’t need explanations, answers, or stories. It is here that I realize there is only love.
In and around, all that exists is love when I allow the low-lying cloud of peace to settle in.
I am the moon, ever-changing, cast in the shadows and light of the sun and the adjacent stars.
Some days I might shine brightly. Some days I show more darkness.
To make things more complicated, clouds may obstruct your view of me. Your light and the light closest to you may dull my shine.
I may also choose to shine by light that becomes explosive, that combusts when it meets your atmosphere.
I may take on many faces and seem unpredictable, perhaps even volatile at times. Other times, I am distant, cool, and elusive.
Whatever light surrounds me, whatever stars I close to align with, it is just for this moment so that you and I can play with this light and these shadows.
I do it all in the hopes that you will still see me through it all, reflecting light and absorbing darkness so that you can get to know me even better with each moment we share together.
In that space between the light and the dark, there is a great place of hope, grace, and love where we all can learn to slowly shine brighter.
My body is a part of me. It tells me when it needs nourishment and rest.
I can manifest the most horrific diseases by ignoring the signs in my body that are saying slow down, ease off, make a change.
There is no way my body can stop being ill until I care for it.
It is time for me to take responsibility for the way I feel. I do not need to be sick to care for myself. Sick is a reminder that I have neglected to care for me.
These are real symptoms – not of some outside force taking over, but a means of communication from the inside – me sending a message to me that something is out of alignment – the schedule, a relationship, nutrition, work…my connection with me.
Each of us has ignored signs that our bodies needed more care until we were really sick, feeling that powering through is a sign of strength. We don’t need to go there.
True strength lies in respecting myself enough to rest, eat well, choose to receive kindness and love from others and to forgive and let go of those who are in a position to diminish my sense of worthiness.
My body should be held and loved by me as a baby bird that has fallen from its nest. Given a chance to be seen, heard, and to heal.
When I carry my body as it carries me, my body allows me to witness the capacity I have for deep love and profound peace and healing.
There comes a time and space where each of us longs to curl up in a snuggly blanket, to feel the pressure on our skin, the cocoon of warmth and connection. This need for contact, pressure, and restriction is also the driver for the invitation of struggle, suffering, and conflict into our lives.
With difficulty pressing in upon me, I will always still find the same comfort and ease on the inside if I allow it.
It is simply a matter of the material of the wrap and the lens with which I see it that determines whether I feel it as nurturing or limiting.
The wrap is just a reminder to feel what’s on the inside – to know the true essence of me, undefined by the fabric of my experience.
Sleep evades me when my thoughts and emotions battle to define my reality.
When I look through the lens of fear and doubt, my eyes are reluctant to close as my body dwells in the space of my inadequacy.
If I could just soften the clenching, look another direction, allow my body to surrender to my inner knowing that all is ok, then I could dive in…dive in between the thoughts and feelings and their manifestation in my body, dive in to a space wide open where I can sort my experiences, face my decisions and choices, explore outcomes, and perceive failures and successes without consequence or judgement.
If I can just allow myself to dive in, I discover a playground in my dreams that frees me from the illusions of success or failure, where I always have the option to stop the experience or change its path.
And, then I awaken remembering that I have this same control, this same ability to change my experience, when I am awake as when I sleep.
I am no longer restless for I realize I am not my dreams, I am not my feelings, I am not my emotions – they are just the space in which I play.
My vehicle is a treasure to me. It gets me around and enables me to do things I otherwise couldn’t do. It is also an extension of me. When you see my vehicle, it tells you something about me – my style, my preferences, my level of meticulousness or ornateness.
I regularly repair and maintain this vehicle, tending to all the essential manufacturer guidelines and using my intuition to listen to the sounds it makes, to know its natural rhythm and flow. I can tell in an instant when something doesn’t seem quite right and I jump to repair it. I would never put anything in it to harm it – in fact all the spaces through which it can be fed are locked and need special access, ensuring awareness and alertness to the purity and quality of the nourishment it receives.
My vehicle is not me, but I value what it does and brings to me…the experiences it allows me to have, the places it takes me, the quality of what I can contribute to my work, to my family, to my life.
The care and effort I put into this vehicle ensures it’s reliability and longevity. It requires great patience and dedication to tend to this vehicle, but it is worth every effort for my return on investment is priceless and timeless.
This vehicle deserves the best from me always as it always gives its best for me.
