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In Welcoming Our Mistakes.

Someone once asked me if I had any regrets. In thinking back, of course there was pain – sometimes, unimaginable. Though inevitably, there was a return to ‘home’ – following a contemplation of both purpose and effect.

Gandhi said that freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes. Life isn’t easy, and it’s not always pretty. We want to break free from these bindings of habit, and yet – we fear the process may be far too overwhelming.

What we know as ‘self’ – with all of its scars and bruises – is often preferable to this path of uncertainty. We want to be bold – to learn, discover and grow. Yet still, we struggle with our own hesitations – wondering if we are strong enough to withstand the journey. Or, worse yet, that we are deserving.

Everything in this life – every choice, every hope, every dream – sits delicately upon the fulcrum of willingness and worth.

When Rossini composed his great chorus, it was an accident that lifted the notes from a minor to a major key – leaving us this unmistakable gift of balance and harmony. “And to this,” he wrote, “all the beautiful effects of the chorus is due.”

Try to appreciate the paradigm, my friends – that a ‘perfect’ life invites our missteps. In welcoming our mistakes, we become our truth.

In peace, and with much love…

Namaste ❣

Returning to Home.

I knew a man once many years ago. By all accounts he seemed so happy; a good job, a beautiful wife and a house in the woods.

He was the CEO and founder of a local technology consulting firm. In those days, companies were struggling to keep pace with their foreign counterparts. He had the answer, and the answer was ‘easy’. The rest was history, as they say.

I’d known him always to be gracious and self-assured. No problem was ever too big, nor any terrain too difficult to traverse. His clients loved the ease by which his optimism was conveyed. “I never let them worry alone,” he’d proudly say.

Day after day he placed the needs of others before his own. Until one day when I received his call, “I just can’t do this any more.”

We talked into the night, as he shared his regrets. “I just don’t understand. How could something I love become something I hate?”

Thigh Nhat Hanh once referenced the ‘hungry ghost’ within us all. “We are hungry for love, we are hungry for understanding. We are hungry for stability, for freedom, and that is why we have been running all the time.”

In all those years, he hadn’t once paused to rest; to replenish the well that was continuing to give.

In all those years, he hadn’t once ‘returned home.’

It’s a mistake I think we often make; returning to the physical structure of house, though never revisiting our roots. Leaving us only one option: to pursue.

We seek peace within external sources; though, in the end – our refuge is always within.

And once we begin to understand this balance, we can finally begin to settle in to a vested happiness.

In peace, my friends…

Namaste ❤

A Blessing of Peace, Joy and Love.

My darlings, this morning I shall be visiting a source of sweetness in my life; a gentleman, a veteran – a ‘once stranger, now friend.’

Through his eyes I’ve watched these lessons of time unfold; the caveats of war against the prospect of peace.

We’ll sip tea as he pauses occasionally to reflect. Until memory slips to blissful grin, and life reveals its gifts again.

“If they’d have told me I’d find the love of my life,” he’ll say. “I’d storm those beaches a thousand times again.”

We miss so much through this muddled mess of distracted thought and wishing for better.

Meanwhile, all of life unveils its beauty — leaving the blessing of ‘whole’ to those with courage.

You see, in the end…happiness is revealed to those who are willing.

Happy New Years, my loves ~ wishing you peace, prosperity, love…and courage.

Namaste ❤️

How We Must Love.

I remember the first time I brought my newborn son home from the hospital. I was such a nervous mother; terrified, actually – wincing at even the smallest pebble in the road. I’d become convinced, you see, of an ‘imminent doom’ – that I literally spent the first week sleeping with my hand upon his chest.

It’s human nature that we should become attached to people and things. Though, as parents, this inclination is often amplified; we fear losing that which we love most of all.

It causes me to wonder: how much of what we experience as love is actually a manifestation of our own story?

Certainly, we all experienced moments in which love has both released and revealed. Sometimes, within the very same moment – a conflict of heart at a deeply spiritual level.

And, we may become ‘stuck’ in those stories painting vivid scenarios – projections of our own past wounds.

Though, in our heart there’s this inherent knowing – that in order to love freely, we ourselves must be freed.

“Love is not something we give or get,” writes Brené Brown. “it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them – we can only love others as much as we love ourselves.”

In many ways, we must be willing to accept the invitation; to take love’s journey into the unexpected aspects of self.

It is only from this space of unconditional acceptance, that we may begin to love freely and without condition.

Today, my son embarks on yet another life journey – and, in place of fear I feel only the blessing of gratitude.

This is how love must grow, my darlings – along its own path, and with the benefit of nurturing.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

Sent from my iPhone

This Space Between.

I wish I could remember who said it, that life is steeped with the heaviness of regret, and infused with the matters of yesteryear.

Perhaps, I’ve liberally cobbled together the thoughts of more than a few, though – I have to say;

I don’t fully agree.

Yes, perhaps regret may visit heavily for some – though, for others, it is quite nearly non-existent.

My loves, how can that be? Is it a matter of preference or perception? Do we not yet know the duality of our existence?

Philosopher Alexandre Dumas once speculated that there is neither happiness, nor grief – rather simply the comparison between the two states. Meaning, our lives are defined by the variance – and he who has felt the pains of grief, shall likewise know an endless joy.

So, why then do we become so fixated on a single point? When we already know that the transition is imminent?

And, likewise – what defines this space between the two? Is it our life experience or a captured hope?

“Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart,” he writes. “And never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, ‘Wait and Hope.'”

Oh, yes indeed – that we might find patience enough to allow this course is life to be revealed.

And, recognizing – that everything we ever were and could potentially be is created within that space in between.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

We’re It Not For Love.

Someone recently shared with me that I shouldn’t love so very much. That I must strive to keep this energy inward in order to protect my heart.

Though, I understand their perspective — that with great love there comes a greater risk, that we may be forever changed as a result of it.

To which I say, this life is not for the feint of heart. It is intended to be lived with a voracious spirit. One undeterred by possibly of sorrow or failure. One willing to embrace the vastness of our fullest being.

We are destined to live, not from the shadows, my loves — rather, from the warm glow of a heart that has been awakened.

As such, we must cherish each connection, my friends — knowing each one serves to challenge the limitations of our own perception.

So, even though I am grateful to their sharing — I must choose the risk of love over all other reason.

For, were it not for love I may never have awakened.

A little something to consider, my loves –

Namaste ❤️

A Masterpiece of Grace.

I remember once as a young mother, I had been sick with a terrible flu. With barely enough energy to move, I looked over to the stack of dirty dishes teetering precariously in the sink. And, then over to the table on the left – a massive pile of laundry still waiting to be folded.

“Mommy, you sleep,” offered my little one. “I can do this.” He was just four-years-old at the time, but still with enough presence of heart to extend a helping hand.

I drifted off to the sound of rushing water and clinking plates. “I’m doing for you, Mommy,” sounded a little voice from the kitchen.

As I opened my eyes, I saw him standing there, proudly, on ‘tippy toes’ next to the kitchen sink. He had fashioned one of our dining room chairs into a make-shift stepping stool. And though, he was covered nearly waist-deep in soap bubbles…behind him, those dishes were cleaned.

“Lexy, quiet,” he hushed. His little sister was just beginning to stir from her nap. And, like the little trooper that he was, he was already rushing to give her a bottle.

It was a moment of divine grace.

“It is a whisper of feeling, almost intangible,” writes author, Mary Traina. “Yet it is powerful. Suddenly you are in a different space. You feel almost weightless. The air is still, your breathing is slow, but what you are experiencing is clean and clear. You have been touched by a moment of pure grace.”

I’ve always believed grace to be one of life’s greatest treasures. A sudden miracle, basked in the light of loving-kindness – reminding us, that there is so much more to this life than we might ever have imagined.

The Buddha saw grace in the ordinary kind heart of a child – who, upon seeing someone starving, offered, “Please, you must eat.”

Grace always seems to find us in this way; a flickering of hope in an otherwise weary world.

In the spiritual sense, it is a moment marked by the warmth of loving-kindness; a tenderness with the capacity to transcend even our darkest of spaces.

“You are so weak,” offers Jalāl ad-Dīn Rūmī. “Give up to grace. The ocean takes care of each wave till it gets to shore. You need more help than you know.”

Indeed, we do need more help than we may know. And yet, our hearts seem so closed to this idea of dependance. How easily we’ve forgotten that it’s these moments of grace, which help to beautify our world.

But, only when we allow ourselves to remain open to them. To slow down, to lean in…to listen.

And, realize – that we are a masterpiece of grace.

Learning to Trust That One True Voice Within.

Brother Thich Nhat Hanh once offered, that when first encountering our mindfulness practice – we might discover a million unanswered questions.

Questions such as, “How do I maintain this calmness of center, when the world seems to be crumbling into chaos?”

Or even more directly, “How do I continue to find love for myself, when the absence of love is so palpable?”

We all have these life questions, my loves – questions that seem to take us farther from ‘home.’ Instinctively, we avoid following that ‘trail’ – convinced, that any further exploration would lead to further burden.

Instead of looking more deeply within, we seek refuge in areas external to self.

“We have the habit of always looking outside of ourselves, thinking we can get wisdom and compassion from another person or the Buddha or his teachings (Dharma) or our community (Sangha).

But you are the Buddha, you are the Dharma, you are the Sangha.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

My darlings, before looking elsewhere for these foundations of ‘heart’, we must first bring our awareness back ‘home.’

Home is where all of our answers exist. Where even the most complex of puzzles are effortlessly solved.

“Listen, listen.
This wonderful sound brings me back to my true self.”

It is within this silence, that our one true voice may finally be heard.

The trick is, not only learning to listen – but, to trust in it.

I promise you, it’s there for a reason.

The Art of Listening.

“Deep listening is the kind of listening that can help to relieve the suffering of others. You can call it compassionate listening. You listen with only one purpose – to help him or her empty his heart.”- Thích Nhất Hạnh

Listening seems such an inherent skill. From birth, even before we’ve yet mastered speech – we are leaning in to the sounds of our mother’s voice.

Instinctively, we listen.

A car passes, and whoosh – we are suddenly aware. Something in our soul is triggered, to pay attention…to pause…to consider.

I’ve often felt listening to be the cornerstone of compassion – requiring the fullest expression of our presence to truly understand what the other person is saying.

To hear their heart, even when our own threatens to seize the way. After all, wasn’t it Buddhist monk Thích Nhất Hạnh who once said,

“The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers…Listen with compassion, and be there with your whole being to give the other person relief.”

My darlings, the moment we realize that we are ‘pulling away’ – we must return to this first seed of compassion.

To listen, wholeheartedly – and, with the energy of loving kindness. To set aside our deepest fears, and open to the suffering of others.

This is what it means to truly listen.

“The Journey” by Mary Oliver

My darlings, this poem was graciously shared with me this morning – and, I wanted so very much to share it with you.

The energy within is that of hope, and of purpose – determined to live the life we all deserve to live.

“Mend my life,” each voice cried. But you didn’t stop.

Pushing through to save the only life you could ‘save.’

The Journey

by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice – – –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
‘Mend my life!’
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations – – –
though their melancholy
was terrible. It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.

But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do – – – determined to save
the only life you could save.”