Tag: spirit

The Roots of Home.

I’ve always believed that an attitude of contemplation helps us to remain open to the wonders of this world. Likewise, it helps to alleviate that constrictive pull and paradigm of fear.

A seed grows not by metered care, rather by breaking through the static boundaries of its former shell. And, casting aside all worries to wind – allows its roots to venture deeper still.

As it rejoins this Earth, it becomes – a sapling to tree to forest cover. Does the seed know its fate as it begins? No, yet it trusts the journey in spite of the season.

Just as we, too, cultivate a willing heart and a trust that permeates this silent beauty. To feel more at home, we must force our roots; knowing, that even the most desolate of soils shall share its nourishment.

In peace, my sweet friends…

Namaste ❣️

At Peace With the Unknown.

It takes great courage to grieve. At times, we may feel trapped – perhaps, imprisoned by our pain. Though, there is a natural cause and order helping to influence our acceptance and understanding.

This morning as our nation mourns the loss of over 50 beautiful human souls, we may struggle to understand the ‘why’ and the ‘how’ – a desperate attempt to place boundaries at the edges of a rapidly growing abyss.

We may cry over the shock of an unexpected loss, withdrawing into the sanctity of our deeper heart. Or, we may be silent in the wake of an overwhelming fear, hopeful that our prayers might soon find their way.

Though, how can we heal in the face of such adversity?

As children, we are encouraged to ‘dry our tears’ – to be toughened by the experience, rather than softened through it. In doing so, we lose our capacity to grow our understanding; to come face to face with the genesis of our own tears. We begin to embrace, and subsequently trust, the truth of our pain.

Only then, can we finally begin our healing. And the vulnerability we once feared, becomes our saving grace.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

A Tenuring of Spirit.

I remember working in a small coffee shop on the North Shore of Hawaii. It was a meager wage, given the nature of the work to be done – nonstop from dawn till dusk; though, I was grateful nonetheless.

The coffee roaster would arrive in the earliest hours of morning, well before the first cup was poured. I remember him standing over the glowing coals of the makeshift roaster with wooden paddle in hand, leaning and listening for the sounds of transformation to begin.

“You hear that?” he’d shout over the grinding of roaster blades. “You can’t ever rush it. You have to let ’em tell you when they’re done.”

Most would have considered the job too grueling – particularly, at less than standard wage. And yet, for this wiry old man – the heat, the dust, the aching muscles and dripping sweat – was, in its own way, ‘perfection’.

While some may term this a ‘labor of love’, isn’t it more so a tenuring of spirit? A moment in which longer held ‘truths’ are dispelled, and matters of heart rest in leaves of courage.

We’d talk for hours, he and I – contemplating the wonders of life against the endlessness of horizon. How can one consider as ‘work’ that which ultimately delivers our peace?

Even these much smaller moments, my loves – have the capacity to transform and heal. Surround yourself with these everyday miracles – a blue sky, white fluffy clouds, and a moment shared over coffee with a friend.

A little something to consider, my friends ~ with love and peace…

Namaste ❤

Untangling the Anger Knots.

I found myself in an uncustomarily angry mood this morning. I was enraged, actually – which is not generally my habit, save for those few short moments when life pushes me to the test.

My son was recently critically injured. A piece of steel entered his body just below the belt line – destroying all structure that dared to impede its path. Were it not for the actions of one brave ‘quick thinker’ – I’m certain the outcome would have been death.

That’s a lot to process for a sometimes over-protective ‘Mama Bear’, though – I raised him to embrace life without limits.

There’s a risk implied for those with courage. Likewise, there is immeasurable reward.

I was angriest with those who hadn’t yet stepped forward to offer a kindness in this space of uncertainty.

“You need to let it go,” someone said to me. I walked away feeling the tears welling up in my eyes.

And then I remembered the Buddha’s most fundamental teaching – that is, in order to experience happiness we must first free ourselves.

The practice encourages this path, and – these moments where our edges are further abraded? They are one of the greatest blessings of all.

Anger, in and of itself, is a bond – like a tightened knot it restricts our capacity to experience true freedom.

And though these feelings may be valid, of course – in the end we must choose whether to loosen that knot.

Though, to do so – we must be willing to approach with the heart of tender loving-kindness.

Whether the actions of another or our own tangled perceptions, we greet all with the energy of equanimity. As, these moments are intended to challenge our present understanding, and broaden the aperture by which we view this world.

And, knowing this, I can begin the work to truly know myself.

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️

Learning to Soar.

I once stood at the edge of a very high cliff and thought, “I wonder if birds experience the same?”

Meaning, I wonder if they suffer from the same sense of nervousness – that fear of stepping off into the unknown.

Does their stomach flip as they contemplate the leap? Or, are they far too transfixed by the possibility of freedom?

Do they dream over the currents beneath their wings long before they’ve ever learned to fly?

Perhaps, there is something to be learned, my loves from these, our ‘fearless explorers’?

“You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves,” shares poet, Mary Oliver. “Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.”

Though, all to often, we barter our moments against the promise of ‘another day.’

Meanwhile, those who do not hesitate – soar.

How Do We Know That We Are Loved?

How do we know that we are loved, my darlings?

Is it not realized within this fullness of breath? As we begin to understand and know the true blessing of a resilience born inside the frailty of our own human existence?

And, as our feet touch the softness of this earth, do we not feel it within each and every step?

So often we feel alone, my loves. We question our connection to all those around us, and the value we lend in return. We become preoccupied and distracted by the formalities of day, losing ourselves in a schedule-driven pacing. In doing so, we fail to appreciate our intrinsic connection to the wonders of life which enrich us.

Simply said, we forget what it means to be alive.

I think love is life, my darlings; the means by which we may begin to widen the aperture by which humanity perceives itself.

We can begin to heal the wounds of this world.

“We have the Earth and the whole cosmos within us.” shares Thich Nhat Hanh. “We are made of the sun. We are made of stars. Touching the true nature of reality, we can transcend the dualistic view that the cosmos is something greater than ourselves or different from ourselves.”

Oh, my darlings, can’t you see…?

You don’t have to feel love; you ARE love.

Namaste ❤️

Making the Ordinary Come Alive.

A reminder this morning from author, William Martin – “Make the ordinary come alive.”

My life is a testimony to this one simple practice. Whether by way of dusted trail, or morning tea – I take in the fullness of every moment, leaving nothing to the winds of ‘never having noticed.’

I make helicopters out of maple ‘wings’, and send my wishes upon dandelion seeds. I create a sky full of bubbles with one ‘magical’ sweep, and strive to touch the earth with these two bare feet.

And yes, I still find time to twirl pirouettes with my ‘shadow friend’.

Life is to be relished, my loves.

No worries, no upsets, no ‘I wonder whys’. Just one glorious ‘drinking in’ – a moment to appreciate life’s much simpler things.

So, let the joy of undiscovered finally find you today. Strap on those explorer boots, and let the ordinary come alive.

My darlings, and let this one simple life become a testimony to you.

“Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is the way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.” – William Martin

Finding Our Light Once Again.

My darlings, I wanted to share with you a favorite poem of mine – from author Diane Glancy, and entitled, “Solar Eclipse.”

Her words have been a constant companion, hand-scrawled to a tattered paper and pinned to my ‘inspiration wall.’ I found it some time ago while leafing through my worries, and wondering if I’d ever find my way through.

Over these past few years, I’ve encountered the uncertainties associated with my medical condition. Each, representing a new paradigm, a massive shift, and the willingness to allow life to be ‘just as it is.’

And, it didn’t happen overnight – I can assure you. Growth is such a strange beast, isn’t it? With the tiniest of spurts here and there, and never quite as fast as we might wish.

But always, there *is* progress being made – an indiscernible something else helping us to once again find that light.

And, find that light – we shall.

Because, with each new morning we wake up, pin hope to our chest – extending these two arms to welcome the dawn.

Our lives are just this way, my darlings – a series of challenges and trials, a closing off and opening up again. It’s how our resilience is formed, and – it’s how we find our way through.

But more so, it’s how the spirit is formed – until even our shadow has substance.

Namaste, my loves ~ and, I do hope you’ll enjoy this morning’s passage.

Solar Eclipse

Each morning
I wake invisible.

I make a needle
from a porcupine quill,
sew feet to legs,
lift spine onto my thighs.

I put on my rib and collarbone.

I pin an ear to my head,
hear the waxwing’s yellow cry.
I open my mouth for purple berries,
stick on periwinkle eyes.

I almost know what it is to be seen.

My throat enlarges from anger.
I make a hand to hold my pain.

My heart a hole the size of the sun’s eclipse.
I push through the dark circle’s
tattered edge of light.

All day I struggle with one hair after another
until the moon moves from the face of the sun
and there is a strange light
as though from a kerosene lamp in a cabin.

I pun on a dress,
a shawl over my shoulders.

My threads knotted and scissors gleaming.

Now I know I am seen.
I have a shadow.

I extend my arms,
dance and chant in the sun’s new light.

I put a hat and coat on my shadow,
another larger dress.
I put on more shawls and blouses and underskirts
until even the shadow has substance.
― Diane Glancy