Layer upon layer,
your beliefs wrap around.
Enclosing, protecting
from the wounds of life.
What once had value,
now droops from the stem.
And still you hold on,
afraid to let go.
What once kept you safe,
now keeps you locked in;
hidden from view…
afraid of opening.
Layer upon layer,
vulnerable and soft
yearning to drop
the weight,
and surrender.
Words matter.
The ones you choose create your reality.
Does your reality energize or drain you?
Which words touch your soul? And why?
“It is important that you say what you mean to say. Time is too short. You must speak the words that matter.” ― Kate DiCamillo
Words inspire me as I begin this year of living 50, some more than others. . .
Words matter.
They can lift you up or bring you down in a heartbeat.
Breathe. . .a word that puts me in the present moment without judgment.
Silence. . .a word that creates the space that nourishes me deeply and reliably.
Too. . .a small word; only three letters but it can do so much damage.
Too much, too intense, too loud, too passionate (really? how is that even possible?)
Other words reach out and touch my soul.
Spirit. Radiance. Strength. Depth. Om.
They resonate, like a Tibetan bowl, leaving an impact long after they’re gone.
I don’t know how that happens; I’m just so grateful that it does.
Words matter.
They create your world.
A world that nourishes and supports your dreams.
Or. . .
A world that can weigh you down with its heaviness.
Your words matter.
The words you choose create a story that then becomes your future.
They create your life.
So choose wisely.
“It’s all invented anyway, so we might as well invent a story or framework of meaning that enhances our quality of life and the life of those around us.” – Benjamin Zander
Which words would inspire the legend of how you lived your life?
What would you do with only 24 hours left to live?
That’s the question my friend Jack asked recently.
Would you gather your loved ones and spend the day together?
Would you try to cram in as much living as possible?
Would you. . .
Or would your last day be more introspective?
Like Jack, I honestly don’t know how I’d spend those 24 hours. Although, I suppose my examples give you an idea of what’s important to me.
I only know the question helps me clarify how I want to live right now.
Unleashed. Intimate. Connected. Free.
What would you do with your one day?
It’s time. . .to do more of what you want.
And feel how you want to feel in life.
Stop trying to live up to someone else’s expectations.
Start living YOUR life the way YOU want.
It’s time. . .to stop worrying about the future and what might happen.
The future isn’t real.
It’s completely made up and you, my friend, are the author of that story.
Start saying something new for the life you say you want.
“There’s nothing to lose by writing your truth.” – Cynthia Morris
Your truth.
What’s true for you may be wildly untrue for someone else.
That’s what makes truth so very intriguing.
As I sit with today’s prompt Things rich and strange, snippets of my truth rise to the surface.
The deep green velvety moss I see on the trees. I run my fingers over it, surprised at the moisture, surprised by its determination to grow in sometimes challenging conditions.
The silence I recall from my last retreat, so deep I can feel it in my bones like an ancient gong. I try to recreate it but the depth and richness can not be captured.
The satisfaction of holding a secret close to my heart. It makes me smile at unexpected times, causing the people around me to question my state of mind.
The love I have for people no longer in my life. Their presence lingers like the smell of coffee in the morning, long after the cup has been drained.
The way the crows follow their internal knowing, every day like clockwork. They leave their western playground to return to their dark eastern home. Like one mind, they set off and leave inky tracks across the sky.
The connection I feel to people I have not met in person. It is wondrous this web that stretches across the world linking thoughts, feelings, ideas and human beings. Wondrous and strange.
The resistance I feel to life some days, when life has been so generous. Understanding doesn’t seem possible, so I let it be, trusting it will ebb like the tide.
The thought that I am more often being breathed than breathing.
* Inspired by Cynthia Morris’ Free Write Fling.
What is it you want to change?
Your hair, your face, your body?
Why?
For God is in love with all those things
and he might weep when they are gone.
~ St. Catherine of Sienna
for what you’ve judged
and made so very wrong.
Weep…
for all that you’ve lost,
that can never be regained.
Weep…
let go, and
release what’s been held.
Allow what is,
and accept what is not.
forgive,
and set yourself free.
“Alice laughed. ‘There’s no use trying,’ she said. ‘One can’t believe impossible things.’
‘I daresay you haven’t had much practice,’ said the Queen. ‘When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” – Lewis Carroll
You believe all kinds of crap about yourself.
Stories you made up as a child, that are still with you to this day.
“Made up” are the words I want you to focus on right now.
You made it all up.
And then, you turned those made up tales into rock solid truths about who you are.
Now here’s the amazing part. . .
For most of my life, I’ve paid far more attention to my head than my heart. I’ve heard enough stories to know I’m not alone in this.
It’s puzzling really, for my head, on its endless quest for logic and knowledge, has all too often led me astray.
It’s been distracted, and even dazzled by facts, figures, reasons; all requirements in the heady world.
My heart however, has been treated like Cinderella – ignored, occasionally mocked, and left behind to tend to itself.
It took my heart being broken (but not really) to change this sad state of affairs.
It took getting quiet enough to hear it.
For the truth is, I didn’t know until then that I wasn’t hearing it (picture an ignorance is bliss scenario.)
My heart has taught me to be grateful for those years of sadness.
They helped me grow, and got me in touch with what was really important in my life.
Seems my heart knew all along what that was.
My heart has worked hard on my behalf for little recognition, until today. Until I asked the following question. . .
The year-end invites you
to declare what you want.
An invitation to consider
that which feeds
the soul.
Stop for a moment.
In the stillness
you’ll hear.
The stirrings
of your desires.
Listen,
Beethoven whispers.
Ode to Joy is
playing.
Turn up
the volume.
Loud.
and listen.
I got nothing.
These words take me by surprise. They lurk – in my awareness and energy.
I don’t like them and I don’t want them here.
Surprising because I’ve just come from a silent retreat that nourished my soul, and provided time to rest and room to breathe.
But no words show up to fill the space.
“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” – James Baldwin
Until now.
It takes admitting what’s so. Saying the words you don’t want to say.
I got nothing.
You’ve got them too, don’t you? Those times that feel blank, lost, frustrating.
Who wants to admit being there?
Not me.
And yet, I shine the light on this dark, shadowy place; a place we do our best to avoid.
Because here’s the thing about ‘walking the talk’…
You can’t just do it when it looks good.
You can’t just do it when it looks like you’ve got it all handled.
Walking the talk is an ongoing proposition. It takes going deep into the ‘beingness’ of human being.
It’s in those moments when things don’t look or feel good; those moments that call you down to the depths, where all there is to do is. . .
Until you realize you do have something to share, something to offer and hopefully, make a difference for someone else.
That moment when you get from nothing to something. . .
and remember once again where real transformation lives.