As I joyously inhale the rich scents of Spring, I smile at the magic of the pond surface, it invites me to become mesmerized by its soft masquerade. Pretending to be the cerulean blue sky, budding trees and patchwork clouds, until a duck exposes its truth.
I sit in contemplation, why do I write? I explore this topic with sincerity, for I am clear, I do not wish to be an inbox pest, or an in your face “look at me” bombardment in this technological age. Writing has been my calm in life’s storms. Words whisper on the wind, thunder in my dreams, offer safe harbor for my truths and ignite my desires. Writing is my home.
It occurred to me yesterday that there is a poignant difference between words that are meant to be READ and words that are written for one to FEEL. I put my words to page for the latter, hoping they may touch a part of you that knows and remembers. Like a firefly in a dark room, my writing arrives to kindle your heart, mirror your magnificence, and celebrate your existence. My words wish to be your friend, whether they resonate or not, it does not matter, they arrive free of expectation or judgment.
Words beckon me, they arrive in dreams, promenade on the wind, sparkle in sun rays and wink with the moon. As far back as my small human brain can go, they have called, beseeching me to hear, to feel, to know their exquisite texture, tone and truth.
A composer hears music, an artists woos colors, a singer ignites sound, a dancer feels cadence, a writer breathes words. I write because I must, whether or not anyone reads my sentences matters not to my persistent muse… As a willow will bend in the wind, the colloquy shall flow from within, arriving on any inviting surface.
“I do not write to convince you, I write to invite you…
I do not write to ignite your approval, I write to remind you of your magnificence…
I do not write to tell you what to do, I write to celebrate you…
I do not write to tell you something is wrong, I write to empower you to choose yourself…
I do not write to give you 7 Steps to a better life, I write to inform you that you are already enough…
I do not write to critique your life, I write to reflect back your perfection…
I do not write to magnify your discontent, I write so you may embrace your worthiness…
I do not write for you to read the words, I write in hopes that you may feel the words…
I do not write to get your attention, I write because I must, it is who I am…”
During this time of “stay at home” it has been easier for me to find that sweet spot, the whisper tucked between the multiple layers of silence. It is a vibratory space, one that is texturally exquisite and infinite once you empower its presence. Most people I meet are unaware of its existence. Many are afraid to allow it to surface, for in doing so, they would be called to enjoy their own company. Releasing all busy-ness. Freeing oneself of the obligatory do. Gracing the moment with just being.
The resonating whisper that is so eloquently wrapped amidst the divine layers of silence is the supreme land of freedom. It lifts one out of human suffering, suspending all time and place. A space of paramount intimacy where the in and out breath merge with grace. Quieting the pulsating ebb and flow of blood. Soothing the heartbeat to a gentle murmur. Inviting the skin to relax and float upon the coagulated mass beneath its protective sheath. All that separates evaporates. Leaving in its wake the galactic interconnection of all that is…
One can witness the ethereal whisper, it is –
the pause before a new born takes its first breath…
a blossom thrusting the first petal forth…
a soft crack exposing a hatchling…
the heavy dark clouds at the edge of releasing the first raindrop…
the buoyant zone crossed by the mind embracing sleep…
a mother quietly viewing her child…
the moment a leaf touches the water…
The transcendent whisper perpetually summons, alluring one to tiptoe into the omnipotent realm, an invitation to vibrationally dance upon the edge of contrived human existence and the sempiternal expansion of all that is.
What might we discover about ourselves and the cosmos we float within if we welcome the layers of silence, beseeching the centriole whisper to swaddle us in its infinite glory? Could we potentially navigate our human existence with a newfound harmony? Rising in vibrational crescendo to a state of tranquility?
I invite you today to find the whisper. Allow yourself to float within the unparalleled effervescent freedom of the whisper.
Outside my bedroom stands a glorious cherry tree. I call it the cotton ball tree, for in the Spring it becomes a round white fluff ball balancing on a dark gray leg. When viewed from the other side of the pond, it receives grand compliments like the belle of the ball, dressed in regal finery.
She is the first to don her green as the winter wanes, preparing and fueling herself to burst forth with voluptuous magnificence. Watching the tightly wrapped buds as they expand in preparation to expose themselves, beckons one to be patient. Then it happens, the soft white nearly translucent petal leans back, inviting the others to join her, telling them it is safe to open up.
It is a grand party, they dance and wave on the currents of seasonal change. Quietly role modeling for the nearby trees that the time is now, a merry invitation to play.
I am awed by their extreme courage and strength, such delicate baby soft petals do not give way to the last ambushes of winters gusts. They stay perched in their efflorescence perfection. I am mesmerized by their unabashed elegance and enraptured by their swirling soft perfume.
The time of fading looms. They cling to the final glory days. Intense gales with blurring rain try to undress the dignified queen of trees. The fair ivory petals do not forsake her, they stay, grasping to the last days of their eminence.
A blanket of white bares the truth, fading with quiet acquiescence they fall. Knowing that their time in the sun has come to an end. They exalted the rising of Spring, tempting others to brave the change, now with extreme fortitude, they accept death.
I sit in admiration of their unpretentious valor, for they did not try to burst on the scene before they were welcomed and they do not linger longer than they were invited. There is a resplendent acceptance that life cycles, birth, life, death.., birth, life, death….
As the sun worships their last moments in the cradle of leaves, I too stand in adoration of their benevolent presence and passing. Our time shall come again on the ebb and flow of seasons. I thank you humbly dear blossom for the reminder that everything has its season, blooming in perfection with the raw truth of impermanence and fragility in the presence of time.
As I quietly sit tucked away in my “stay-at-home” cocoon, hidden in the branches of my make believe treehouse, I am saddened by what little news I allow to trickle into my world. As a person who has “news fasted” for over twenty years, I find myself even more grateful now to be distanced from the onslaught of hyperbole and disrespect that smatters itself across the page, video screen, TV, and…
Will WE ever learn? Can WE change? Or are WE doomed to repeat our sabotaging human cycle? WE tout ourselves as “advanced,” as “civilized,” as “wiser and smarter” than the people before us. Are WE really?
From what we know historically about the human existence our patterns are blatant, a slap in the face, or pure insanity according to Einstein – “
“Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former,”and “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.“
What is that cycle, the insanity we perpetuate? War, revenge, greed, abuse, torture, blame – not understanding or digesting that the “grass is never greener” it is always just different. In the COVID-19 experience we have so far blamed, criticized, panicked and now protest. Are we civilized?
Definition from Cambridge Dictionary: A civilized society or country has a well developed system of government, culture, and way of life and that treats the people who live there fairly.
Pete Seeger wrote a song that lyrically reveals our repetitive tale, just hit repeat and you can play it century, after century (Preformed below by Peter, Paul and Mary).
Could WE look at this time as an opportunity, a chance to pause, a time to come together to make new choices? The song below is one that remains in my memory bank, it encapsulates our human “insanity” as labeled by Einstein.
Buried treasure conjures up images of gold, jewels, gems, silver, piles of money…? I question, will this treasure:
Feed me happiness?
Buy me true friends?
Acquire bandaids for unhealed wounds?
Settle debts of unforgiven moments
Provide me with food when their value set and accepted by humans is nulled or destroyed?
Procure me peace?
As we tour the ruins of previous “advanced civilizations,” are we offered a glimpse into our behavioral patterns? Are they role models of what did notwork, along with what did work?
Shall we continue on our path, believing ourselves to be wise and advanced? Or can we humbly open up to realize that there are soon to be 8 billion different perspectives. Yep, in our “advanced” state, no two of us are alike, so why do we fool ourselves and others into thinking we should be similar, want the same things, see the world the same, etc… This will never be, unless a new virus erupts that brainwashes such change. Personally, I believe the world would be extremely boring if we all thought, believed and wanted the same things. Our differences give us opportunity to learn and grow.
Maybe Dr Seuss’s famous tale, “The Lorax,” should be revisited by us all.
As discussion begins to formulate around going back to work, I find myself in deep reflection. What did I learn about myself during this time? How do I feel as I stare down the barrel of returning to the 9-5 game established in this society?
My family and friends would easily share with you that I have never been very good at staying within the lines of “societal expectations”. Since I was a child there is a different drum that beats in my heart, like a far off voice, it beckons me to follow my heart’s desire, or as Joseph Campbell’s famous quote wisely shares, “Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls.”
What a tightrope tap dance it has been for me. Like doing the “Hokey Pokey” I sometimes put my little foot in, however, more often I am yanking it out quickly, fearing it will get sucked into the quick sand of society. So many times along this journey I have quietly wished that I could be “content” with the cookie cutter society we’ve established, “just “Baaa…” along Fawn, follow the flock, be happy with what is, stop walking off the path,” I whisper to myself. The voice of “reason,” as some would call it, became even louder when I brought children into this world. In reflection, I wonder at moments, what if, I had chosen a path more in line with my values, like the movie “Captain Fantastic”. Of course part of my dream involved not doing it alone, I wished for that partner who also desired a sustainable life upon the land. Sooo.., I gave up on that dream, or better stated, I put it on the shelf where it has collected dust and cobwebs for years.
This unexpected time to truly just be with myself and my children has graced me with the opportunity to dust off the values and characters on the shelf; informing the spiders that they will no longer keep them company. In complete honesty, I started to dig into the protected chambers of my heart and soul when my son left for college three years ago, for his his sister was not far behind him. What did I desire for my second half of life? Where did I wish to live? Create, share, explore..? That time is now!
Pulling out my tightrope dancing shoes, gathering my dusted off values, passions and dreams I sit down to visit. Like grass erupting through concrete, the lusted for aspirations blossom anew. Pulling out pen and paper, my forever best friends, I make a list. What did I love about this “stay at home” time?
I loved not commuting to work.
I relished the quietness, listening to the layers of silence as they expanded.
I fell in love all over again with putting words to page, allowing my muse to dictate the flow.
I joyously celebrated the dream to “work & live” in the same place.
My body, mind and spirit relaxed into the beautiful simplicity, the washing away of chaos, stress and worry.
I celebrated the chance to only let in what inspired me, stirred my desires and ignited my passions.
Relishing the completely present time with my children, sharing meal creations, conversations, movies, games and walks.
Letting my body move without an alarm clock or tight schedule.
Sinking more deeply into the grace that nature offers in her infinite wisdom.
The gift to stay away from the chaos of the city, keeping my distance from the negative energy created by stress and angst.
The chance to play with new ideas, free of demands and interruption.
Allowing my quiet introverted soul to breathe deeply, embracing the peace that always is…
What did my list tell me? Certainly I can go back to “normal”, get back on the merry go round of commuting, punching in and out on the time clock, maintain a home, car, blah, blah, blah… Or I could begin to seriously listen to that far off voice. Encouraging the whispers of my heart and soul to rise in serenade, to crescendo into the new future.
I am curious, as we continue to navigate the COVID-19 phenomena,
What are you learning about yourself?
What is important?
What are your desires and dreams?
Do you want to go back to normal?
Were you happy?
Is this a new opportunity?
A chance to reflect, dust off forgotten wishes?
I shall conclude today with another powerful quote from Joseph Campbell –
“We’re so engaged in doing things to achieve purposes of outer value that we forget the inner value, the rapture that is associated with being alive, is what it is all about.”
It was clammy and cool, causing goosebumps to rise. The walls were a blend of rocks, dirt and moisture. The floor had hardened over time, an uninviting place to sit. My “little grandpa,” who was actually my great grandpa, had to duck to get down in there with me, but, he was always willing to humor me for a while. It was one of my favorite places on the farm, for it was home to the squishy little salamanders I enjoyed befriending. Early summer was the best time to be in there, for it was refreshing and the root vegetables from the last harvest were gone. The tiny little dark root cellar was just one of the wonders that remains tucked in my childhood memory bank.
As a toddler I frolicked around my great grandpa’s farm. I called him my “little grandpa”, for his son, who was much taller and broader, got nick-named “big grandpa”. In my little mind the names made total sense and became the endeared titles for them as my siblings arrived one by one.
I absolutely loved my little grandpa’s farm. It sat in a small community in southern Michigan. A miniature piece of land that felt gigantic to my young adventurous spirit. It was full of wonders and places to explore. Thankfully my little grandpa humored my tagging along, even though it was hard for my stubby legs to keep up.
Like the seeds my great grandma would plant every spring in the garden, the farm memory rooted itself in me. I can still feel the gentle flow of life there, the seasons and the wonders of the land in its gracious life giving abundance.
Dear ole Rastis was my easy-going four legged best friend. He was a striking mix of black and white soft fur and just the right height for me to use as a balancing tool. Best of all he let me take care of him, kindly receiving my offered meal of rocks. It was a good thing I did not know until years later, that when I was not looking he would spit them out.
The other day as I reviewed the COVID-19 numbers around the world, it struck me again, how the hotbeds for the virus seem to be the densely populated areas. This led me to thinking about the human’s movement from living on the land, to occupying high rises. The shift from an agricultural species to an industrialized machine. As the years have flown by, we become even more disconnected from our roots with the land. For me, this recent world situation poignantly shares the ripple effect of our choices in so many ways.
The small farmer that has survived the onslaught of monster mono-crop farming, can still go out his/her door today to co-create an existence with the land. If necessary, they can generate a way to survive and get by during challenging times. Whereas, the individual sitting on the 39th floor of a high rise is limited with their ability to provide for themselves or their family. They are dependent upon the interwoven “advanced” lifestyle we have established over time.
Business as usual is non-existent as I type these words. We are being offered a magnified view of the infrastructure we have chosen to co-create. The closing of daily business as we know it has created a tsunami effect on the unemployment lines. What will the long term impacts be? How have our priorities and choices impacted us and the future?
I don’t know about you, but, thoughts of the small farm life prick my curiosity. The ability to wisely provide for my family, share bounty with others and create a community that ebbs and flows with the land, seems very inviting. A few years ago, I enjoyed the opportunity to work on a local organic farm, it was a sweet time that re-ignited my childhood memories. I never slept better than during that time, my body physically tired, my spirit full with a solid sense of important accomplishment. Ironically, I could not feed my family on the income I received, thus, I found myself back in the city working behind a desk. Personally, I find this backwards, for providing healthy nourishing food seems to be one of the most important life giving professions that exist.
Many years ago I discovered a book that really stirred my thoughts about sustainable living – “Solviva – How To Grow $500,000 On One Acre & Peace On Earth,” by Anna Edey. Here was a single woman, like myself, going for it, trusting in herself and the land. She presented some interesting images for a “livable future” that really piqued my imagination (see above image), what if, we actually became that smart. Recently, I found myself exploring another sustainable way of living, Earthships. What if we actually started to think about our quality of life and how to create a better future for our children and the generations to come after that. We are creative, perseverant, compassionate, resilient beings when we decide that’s how we want to be… Like Edison, Einstein, the Wright Brothers, and any one else who had an idea, anything is possible if we believe, keep trying, learn from our mistakes and stay open to new ideas. After all, you are reading this on a tool that certainly did not exist when I was young.
I continue to wonder will we use this COVID-19 world experience to make changes that honor our inter-relationship with the land?
Or pretend nothing happened?
Will we wish to respect and cultivate a new way of being upon the planet?
Or ignore all the valuable insights we have gained?
What if, we did not “return to normal,” instead we decide to co-create a “fresh new start.” A way of living upon this planet which sets it up to thrive for generations to come…
As I sit here in my “pretend treehouse” I joyously welcome the exquisite symphony of the surrounding trees. They undulate with an unspoken acceptance. I am mesmerized by the dancing blossoms before me, they remind me of the miracle that life continues, that beauty is continually birthed, even in adversity. The water on the pond churns, it acquiesces to the commitment of the wind to create change. Dancing clouds flirt across the canvas before me, tantalizing me with their weightless freedom.
A delicate white petal floats down upon my hand as my fingers strike the keyboard. It invites me to notice, to honor its delicate babylike softness, its sophisticated pure whiteness that only nature can create. I sit wrapped in this minuscule bubble, a tiny air droplet in a far-reaching galactic universe. Gratitude is my blood flow today, it courses through my body like a wild fire on a dry prairie.
My mind has behaved like a squirrel, hopping from one curious topic to another. The human programmed part of me has been interrupting the merry romp, enticing me to be “productive.” Ha, laughs my jolly trickster soul, today is for merriment, for disappearing on the wind currents with curiosity and imagination.
The acorn which has held my squirrel mind with intrigue today is the pondering of authenticity. Genuine authenticity. The kind that makes you feel instantly connected to another, opens your heart with trust and imbues you with a sense of seeing while being seen.
As we sit suspended by this rare virus eruption, the deluge of information is raining down in torrential proportions. I find myself actually shaking my head in sad disbelief at how quickly marketers have snatched up the COVID-19 mantra to make a new sale. To play upon the human psyche like a parasite chewing on the raw flesh of its host.
Now I must also sing out praise for the marketers, businesses and sites that offer the contradiction. In their song I hear a heartfelt desire to ease the fears, calm the worry and extend an encouraging invitation to have faith.
We are such delightful creatures, free to sponge up whatever we put our focus upon. How do we decipher in such strange times the mouth that serenades our hearts and souls versus the mouth that tears us apart, injecting fear venom or draining the coffers of our livelihood?
Again, as I have typed before, I marvel at the technicolor paradox that humans co-create. Think about it, or actually feel into it. Why during a time of such global vulnerable uncertainty would any human decide to propagate information that is harmful, that expands the pandemic from the lungs into the brain washing nervous system. Perhaps, it is an opportunity for us to grow our discerning muscles, to choose where we shall share our time and energy. A time for us to endow the heart and soul with more power, so that we can translate for our brain what is genuine authenticity.
As the tree ripples before me with its ample blossoms, I can sense its eternal trust in the wind. The unseen deep roots know that at times there will be pain, there may even be death. However, it surrenders to the faithful wind, for they need each other, they are interconnected, integral pieces of a tapestry that spins in an expansive galaxy.
As you find yourself besieged with “information” and new advertisements, feel within for the truth, is this an authentic source? Does it offer genuine information or helpful service? Or is it trying to breed with your already sprouted fears, worries and stress?
Personally, I am doing reps to improve my discerning muscle for genuine authenticity…
On this day to never be again, I wish you and yours peace, health, happiness and faith….
During this unique time in our world I hear and read everywhere the desire to return to normal. It’s as though people are holding their breath because the air presently available is foul and encroaching on life as we know it.
As I lay in bed last night, watching the bright moon glow, I found myself contemplating,
Why are we waiting?
Why do we want to return to what was?
What if there is actually a new world that awaits us with positive changes?
What if this is a rare opportunity not a curse?
I do experience that people enjoy a routine. They like familiar and predictable. I am guilty of liking some simple routines myself, such as journaling every morning, the way I have started my day for over thirty years. I also relish my warm cup of Jasmine Green tea that accompanies my pen and paper in the quiet dawning. I love walking in the grace and splendor of the natural world, to feel my body flow with the rhythm of nature’s song. Yes, I have my daily pleasures that make my heart smile…
I can honestly say though, that I often query with my heart, soul and mind – “Does this daily habit serve me? Is it helping me to co-create a more joyful expansive life?” If that search uncovers that I am doing it for others, because I “should” (yuck), or to meet some outside expectation that I do not care about, then I stop and let it go. This is a constant dance of reflective exploring, an aspect of life that morphs as I grow.
As I journaled this morning, it struck me like a lightning bolt – “What if it is not about WAITING! Instead, it is a glorious chance to learn how to BE. Maybe for the first time in your life you get to just BE. Feeling into the rich expansive layers of who you are. Taking this time to explore the nooks and crannies of your intimate heart, soul, and quieted mind.
Throughout my life journey most of the people I meet do not want to sit in their own quiet. They do not want to be still, to hear the silence, feel their own heartbeat. When I broach the subject of just BEing, I am jolted by the fear and discomfort that presents itself. This saddens me, for only in the quiet space can the inner self have a chance to bubble up, the unexplored dreams surface and the hidden desires show up in technicolor.
Yesterday on my walk, I sat by the river watching freshly released seed pods float by, like watching the flames of a campfire, I was transfixed by their tango upon the water. A pair of osprey serenaded, dancing upon the wind currents of a cloudless azure sky. To complete the perfect setting, vivid green willow buds burst upon the exquisite scene. I welcomed the serenity, breathing it in with momentous gratitude. I allowed myself to float in the sweet reverie, grateful to Just BE…
Today I invite you to BE, allow yourself the grace to feel, breathe deep, listen to your inner being, ponder the thoughts that drift up out of the quiet internal space.
Of course as we know, it is always your choice. You can WAIT, hoping for change, expanding the sensation of frustration and worry OR you can open up to feel into the NOW moment, content to Just BE.
What if this time is not about Waiting, instead it is an offer to BE???…
Her eyes sparkle with joyful trust, her feet skip with abandoned freedom, her voice rises with no apology and her hands reach for the dust that dances with her in the glittering sunlight. She is free and wild an ecstatic expression of the bliss which always is…
Her face was lined from years of living. Her eyes danced, bursting with memories etched like fireworks on a dark night. Her smile beckoned one to sit and listen. Her legs no longer danced, they lay bent and disfigured on the bed with raw open bed sores seeping at her hip joints. Her vibrant spirit encircled you the moment you stepped into her space, there was no victim in this room, no woe is me, instead one was greeted with dynamic passion, simple happiness, and a peacefulness that gently kissed you on the cheek.
Who are the “her’s” I speak of? The first is me, dancing in my childhood living room, chasing the sun dust I stirred up with my exuberant joy. The second “her” is a divine woman I was blessed to care for in a nursing home years ago. Her aliveness, grace, peace, and love still dance in my memory. She and others I cared for knew a truth, as did the child in me.
What did they know?
They knew that happiness, love, peace and contentment always exist.
They knew that it did not exist in things outside themselves.
They knew that it was accessible in all moments.
They knew that no one could give it to them, yet they lovingly shared it.
They knew it was a choice.
The years and space between innocent curious childhood and the wisdom of one’s latter years is full of “shoulds”, “comparisons”, “judgments”, and the measuring of the self against a society often ruled through fear and distrust. I do not have to sit very long in a cafe before I can hear someone criticizing themselves or attacking someone else. Stories swirl around like the sound of the espresso machine, surging with blame, shame, hurt, victimhood and discontent. It breeds like the flies on the patio tables, snatching up every scrappy morsel to add fuel to why their life is so miserable.
Why do humans choose this?
A question I have pondered since I was five years old.
Why do we let go of our passionate desires to instead choose to fly someone else’s kite?
Why do we slam the door on the pure potential of joy?
Why do we kick happiness to the curb, to welcome and invite stressful frustration?
Why do we say “have to” instead of “get to”?
Why do we choose going through our days and moments on auto-pilot, waiting for someone or something else to make us better?
Do we prefer to wait, to lie on our deathbed watching the autobiographical movie of regret?
Why do we look in the mirror with such self contempt, as young children we loved our reflection?
I ask all of this with curiosity and a desire to understand.
In my sophomore year of college I was blessed to work at an international daycare. Here I witnessed children from all over the world. They danced, played, laughed and cried, living their moments very presently. They saw the world as a frontier to be explored. I sensed that the older children were on the fringe of losing this curious wonderment for life. In their play I observed them mimicking adults, their eyes would change, their jaw would set tightly, their voices would take on a serious tone. The joy, spontaneity, compassion and kindness evaporated, leaving behind a robotic body, controlled by the “taught” mind.
Three years after working in a daycare, I found myself working in a nursing home. Here I discovered the grace and vengeance of aging. I was gifted to share time with souls who lived a full passionate life and others who were embittered with regret. The extreme chasm between the two slapped me stingingly as I would leave one room to enter another. My heart and soul ached for those fighting their own shadow. They carried their anger and sadness like a suitcase loaded with boulders, burdening their final days. These souls expressed through pinches, punches, and verbal abuse while you assisted them to the toilet, shower or dining hall. Off the clock, I cherished the moments I got to sit and listen to the stories from those celebrating life. Stories of falling in love, having children, riding in a car for the first time and rising above struggle. Reflections of the gentle flow of seasons, years, experiences and the pure grace of a life lived fully.
In my forties I found myself teaching language arts to junior high students. Here I witnessed the cross over in technicolor poignancy. A few young people desperately clung to their innocent pure belief that anything is possible, that one could reach for their dreams with unbridled passion. The majority of the students had given up, they did not dream, instead they chased visions of their future painted on the wall by parents and society. They swallowed hard the doses of expectations fed to them with the famous mantra, “When I have lots of money I will be happy, when I get my degree I will be happy, when I buy a house I will be happy, when I marry I will be happy, WHEN I… I will then be HAPPY”.
Ironically the joke is on us, for much of life is lived between the wild child and the wise elder. Thus I am forever grateful for the life altering gift of witnessing snapshots of age through my diverse professional life. They have graced me with an awareness and microscopic view that life is really just a brief sojourn. A brief interlude to experience as I choose.
Today I watch the sun dust with the pure delight of my four year old wonderment, I dance with unlimited joy, for I am not young, nor old, I am in between, kissing each with gratitude for their wisdom.
Today I invite you to join me, breathe deeply into the child you once were before life manipulated you.
Today I encourage you to take back the string to your own kite, feel it dance freely upon the wind.
I wrote this piece originally over a year ago, today it whispered at me, beckoning me to share in this time of change upon our planet. We all sit unexpectedly in a space of suspended uncertainty. As we float between what was and what is becoming, we are being graced with a crystal ball that plays scenes from childhood, while positioning the paint brush towards a canvas of our elder years. Posed on a precipice, can you hear the whispers of grace and freedom? Or do you cling to the chaos of fear?
The wise gentle elders I was blessed to care for no longer inhabit this plane, yet the way they embraced their journey is written in permanent marker on my heart, soul, and mind. I shall not lie on the bed sores of life embittered and shriveled, I shall dance vibrantly in the sparkling company of dust particles…
Guess What?… Uncertainty struck! It showed up with earth shaking realism!
And it continues… Idaho has experienced 37 aftershocks following the 6.5 magnitude that rattled everything last evening. According to the National Weather Service it was the second largest earthquake in the world for March 2020.
One would say, be careful what you say, type, or think, for you might get a real life example.
When I look in my review mirror, it is dotted with such moments. All in their own “glory” and unexpectedness. When I sit with those life experiences, really feeling into them and exploring their “aftershocks”, I am humbled, for they all lead to what comes next. More powerfully they have sculpted who I am today. Chiseling out the aspects of myself that did not serve or fit my new expansion.
This time in our world with COVID – 19 is another such opportunity. It is having many aftershocks for us to see and personally know, each and everyone of us is being hit by its quake in some form.
What will we choose to do with the experience?
Will you go back to life as it was?
Will you start out being more thoughtful and reflective in your daily choices, only to shift back to your norm?
Will your children, family, friends have the same memories as you?
During your “stay at home” time did you “numb out”, distract yourself, or embark on a new “self-love” behavior and habit?
Did you take this opportunity to make changes?
Did you reach out and connect with others?
Will you go back to the job you hate or did you work on your resume, determined to create change?
Did you learn to appreciate what you have or continue to take it for granted?
I think the thing that always baffles me is why do we “need a wake up call” to create change? Why do people not take action steps daily towards their dreams?
This time has gifted me with the opportunity to reflect more deeply. I can honestly say that I have never truly given up, despite unexpected derailments and intense uncertain times, I have never fully given up. I still have three dreams that intertwine to co-create the life I intend to live.
They are in process, they are becoming, they are a part of who I am….
I am at choice to enjoy the journey along the way or get frustrated because it has not fully happened yet. Which sounds more fun to you? Personally I prefer the first, for I do respect, honor and know that life is absolutely splattered with Uncertainty! So, I choose to aim my rudder towards my desired destination, celebrating that there will be moments when it is a wild ride (here are a couple of those opportunities). I hang on with a sense of adventure, vulnerable openness and joy for the present moment.
What aftershocks will this time offer you?
Will you be a passive apathetic bystander?
Will you take action towards your dreams?
Will you reach out?
Will you embark on a new journey?
Will you cradle with gratitude the blessings in your life?
Will you empathetically honor and assist those most intimately struck by this virus?
I have grown to understand that some of the most profound changes in life happen over time with small simple daily action. We do not have to have an earthquake, tsunami, or pandemic to create change in our life, we just have to Choose to step, “putting one foot in front of the other…”
On that note, I wish you well on this glorious day, that shall never be again...