Monday Mindfulness

Cultivating Strength, Joy, Calm & Resilience


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Into the Ether

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.


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Ripples of recovery

Pain provides an opportunity to turn towards lessons and lessening or to adopt as a wounded state as a part of identity.

For sure, the wave of wound on the heels of pain can feel logical and essential. It may perhaps be needed in order to make a choice. The wound from pain can be like a riptide that is easy to get caught in…that can provide great struggle and even the potential to drown.

However, to ride that current, perhaps even begin to understand it’s make up and direction and feel more fully into it just briefly, produces the wisdom to release the struggle and be propelled to its edges by its own force.

Without resistance, the riptide has nothing to hold onto and pushes away what it cannot drag down.

In due time, the churning and swirling when met with curiosity, tenderness, and patience has the capacity to deliver an object once more to calm and safe waters.

It is in returning to this calm space where wisdom is found…the pain lessened and the wound converted to a lesson.

While woundnedness perpetuates a perceived lack of safety imposed externally, wisdom reinforces the notion that safety is created in the choice to experience but not drown in the wound.

While ideally the sea of life hopes to offer smooth, calm, clear waters, it also aspires to shape future landscapes and to never remain the same, retaining unintentially in its purpose the potential for pain.

And in this way, there lie endless opportunities to ride or resist, to learn or succumb.


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Eyes open, heart full

There is such magic in this world.

In the way my body carries me.

The movement of the wind as it caresses my cheek.

The coolness of the tears that release my tension and heaviness and fall as readily with joy as sorrow.

In the songs of the birds and insects busy with their work.

The smile of a loved one.

The deep knowing in the eyes of a child.

The way the earth holds onto me.

The playful dance of the ocean under the moon.

The squish of sand…mud…and grass between my toes.

The twinkle of the sun peeking through the forest leaves.

The wiggle and prance of unconditional love in a dog’s greeting.

The soul connection of a cat’s purr.

The goodness in the food I eat.

The nourishment and brain power in a sip of water.

The laughter of my children.

The echoes of love that I feel as unborn babies prepare to create more magic in this world.

The gifts are endless, seamless, and there for me even when I forget, become distracted, or look away.

The magic remains and returns again and again.

All I have to do is be still and it appears so clearly before and within me.

It’s really not magic at all.

What a beautiful thing to let love guide me and choose to see the good in the world today.


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Oohh, so very powerful!

Not coy,

confident.

Not tethered,

anchored.

Not drifting,

opening.

Rooted in the earth.

Expanding the mind,

not with thought derived from past experiences but with ideas inspired by the unknown.

Capable.

Clear.

Strong.

Assured not in the direction in which I will head but in the magnificence of who and where I am right now.

For when the stillness and quiet fade,

I will continue to embody grace and power.

I will not forget that I am

omnipotent.


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The fruits of loss

For so long I have worked to convert false and illusory love into something genuine and real.

I took every secret, every lie, and tried to make good of it, convert it with my own love, and hold it in my heart as if somehow sacred.

It cut me off from believing I was worthy or capable of experiencing authentic love…so much so that I lost the connection to my own self love.

My heart never forgot. It diligently safeguarded that little piece of me while it held all the other illusions and hopes.

The portion of my heart that held onto dreams of apologies and repair finally grew so heavy and full of empty promises that it ripped itself away. Painfully it twisted and tugged, like an overripe piece of fruit trying to resist gravity’s pull. It finally fell away. Oh the sorrow. Even letting go of something rancid and rotting is still a severing, a deep and real loss.

As that fruit of my broken heart smashed to the ground, its void still consuming my awareness, little seeds of potentiality embedded in the ground. I saw in them hopes that somehow we have all learned from these lessons of untrue love.

Somehow we will remember that without filling there can be no emptying. Without love there is no hope. Without unabashed openness and courage, the fruit cannot ripen and go on to somehow grow into something beautiful.

And in the meantime, the void from the fallen fruit begins to fill with new leaves.


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Self-Centered

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.


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Bare Roots

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.


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Indelible

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.


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Weeping

How can something weeping be so beautiful?

Branches sinking towards the ground,

heavy with the promise of spring.

Blossoms like tears,

dripping from overflowing eyes.

Swaying soulfully in the wind, the blossoms sing a song not of loss but of rebirth.

These branches remind us to remain soft,

to bend and hang low,

to let life flow.

See the beauty and freshness that comes with letting go.

With the same courage that the tree has in these uncertain temperatures and conditions to bravely unfurl its blossoms,

weeping thoroughly,

signs of growth,

remind us of the beauty in letting our tears flow

for behind them comes a richness of life and growth

the likes of which have never been seen or felt before.


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Unhindered

Open your wings, my heart said.

Trust your senses to guide you, my intuition said.

The air currents are too complex and the terrain too rough for you to navigate said my mind…

Are you sure you can find your way?

It’s too risky said my body to go out on your own and ride the sky.

It takes confidence and a release of all fear.

Against the advice of familiar patterns, out-purposed behaviors, and nagging beliefs, I spread my wings.

I launch and take flight unsure of where I will go, unsure of what nourishment I may or may not find, what challenges I may or may not face, and what gifts I may or may not discover.

As my feet lift off the ground, euphoria fills me knowing that my destiny is in the flight itself, not what it brings or where it goes but in the unbridled courage and curiosity that soar with me, reminding me who I really am.