Advent (aurora borealis)

 

Advent (aurora borealis)

 

 The Northern Lights in Southern Canada are like Christmas in July.
 Red-green specters fading into being, rising and drifting through the night sky.
 
Elusive to the human eye, their dance is caught like a cougar on a night-cam,
a clip-still capture of a flying flame, more caricature than spirit.
 
I saw you real.
Living, you catalyzed a soul’s breath of energetic light and caressed the stars.
A cold fusion of sun and space igniting this Earth-bound child.
 
I saw the angels dancing on Jacob’s Ladder, felt the pointed message of the Nativity star settle in my chest.
 
I saw Mary’s roses glowing in the night, blossom and leaf. Saw graceful stems, needle-like, lacing the great gap between Heaven and Earth. The Christ Child, as tall as the sky, as old as the stars and as young as tomorrow’s sunrise.
 
There were no shepherds in my field that night.

Only three horses stood with me, eyes full of moonlight, mist rising from warm muzzles.
The angels sang cricket songs while four goats kneeled in the summer grass, their munching mouths forming a percussive beat.

Together, standing in the July night. Together we heard the whispered ‘wait!’ and felt the patience of the trees, dark and leggy around us like Stonehenge.
 
While the wise wonder and wander.
While the innkeeper stirs and mumbles in his sleep.
While Herod feasts with flatterers.
 
We wait.
 

 

Life re-fit ... finding that new sweet spot.

 

I've learned a lot in the last few weeks. 

It's amazing how the influence of one, very in-tune and connected individual can, in one action, reset your inner sight, snapping into being a deepened perspective and shaking loose a series of understandings. Honestly, it was like an avalanche of 'I get it now' over a flood of mental pictures and memories of past moments of discomfort, vague angst and plain fear. I could almost hear the click, click, click, of the past snapping into clarity.

President Joe Biden did that for me when he chose to stop campaigning and turn his energy to finishing his term well. Solidly successful, but underrated by those not in-the-know, I believe that President Biden did what I could not do so many times in my life: recognize that, although I had honed a 'thing' to be well-practiced and excellent, I no longer fit into the space I occupied while doing it.

Who knows why that space evolves, or mutates? Or if it is others, or not just ourselves, who morph and grow, or simply change over time. But when the uncomfortable moments begin to pile up and you start to feel a drag on your psyche-soul, the space or fit has changed. There is no denying it. It is not a simple matter of needing a break or a vacation; you experience an inner scrambling to reengage with the sweet spot that life was--only a few short days ago.

And what I learned is that walking away from the 'non fit' into the open space of life is a breath of fresh air. 

Yes, it's scary. Yes, there are more questions than answers and new discomforts of another nature, but there is the hope, too. Hope of a new sweet spot, just around the corner. And there is tremendous relief and a sense of reestablishing inner bearing: reconnecting with one's essentials, recognizing and acting on soul-promptings. 

Bottom line, there is freedom in walking away from the what was and toward what will be.

I think the truth is, that when one's sweet spot suddenly isn't, it means that there is another sweet spot that only is a fit for you. Doesn't mean that this new one is 'forever' either, but rather that it is only by leaving the old fit that we find the new fit. 

Have courage (I say this to myself as much as to you, dear reader!). Take the leap out of an imperfectly-fitting cocoon. You will likely need those new wings for your new sweet spot, when it finds you. Or you find each other.

Forget the nay-sayers who want you to believe you were 'never' a good fit. Forget the fear mongers who say this was the 'only' fit. Reconnect with the essential commitments you've made: who do you love? what drives your life purpose and passion? what brings you joy? For whom, or what, are you here ... in this time on earth?

The sweet-spot-that-was served to provide you a space to live out those essential commitments. Do not confuse the space with your core being's essentials. They are not the same thing--the 'sweet spot' is simply the office desk from which to work out your purpose and essential commitments to life.

The desk is too small for you now. Be brave and step out.

Be like Joe.

The practice of mindfulness

 

Mindfulness as a 'work around' ...

I've been thinking a lot about the role of mindfulness and resilience these last few months. For the first time in my, comparatively long life, I've been dealing with recurring illness that has altered some lifestyle choices. I have NOTHING to complain about--I realize this! I'm still able to live in my favorite place in all the world with my favorite person and our critter-kids, and still love to put words and stories together, and still continue my life-long love of learning. I do practice gratitude--even when hauling water buckets to the horses is not the easy job it once was ... and when I must now rely on others to haul and stack hay bales in the barn. Puck, my bay gelding has grown too tall for me to mount (I think my lanky and lazy horse is secretly quite pleased about that, by the way) and I seriously gauge the level of tinnitus in my left ear before taking on any extra stress. 

Yes, life has demanded some modifications--'work arounds' is my vocabulary for figuring out new ways to do old tasks that required more youthful strength and stamina. 

Seriously. I have benches and mounting blocks spaced strategically all over our farm.  

Mindfulness has become a friend to me and my journey of resilience.

There is nothing more resilient than watching tiny rose clippings root and begin to grow their own lives. Or a chopped-down tree sending up shoots from a sawed off stump. 

And, I think the definition of resilience when you look it up in the dictionary should simply be a photo of a dandelion breaking through cement and thriving in a concrete jungle.

photo credit: https://abolg.wordpress.com/2016/01/09/dandelion/

To me, mindfulness practice is as simple and as frequent as stopping, breathing, feeling the ground under my feet, the wind on my face, and hearing through my ears and my hands, the dog at my side, the horse beside me, or the chicken scratching the soil in front of me. Mindfulness is stopping to grin at the goats peering out of their window at me. Mindfulness is admiring the vigor of a growing tomato plant. Mindfulness is anything that centers me into the present moment. From there, resilience becomes a choice, and work arounds become an intriguing puzzle rather than a relentless scramble, juggling losses. 

Mindfulness may be different for you, and I've captured some thoughts of others more in the know about the practice of mindfulness below. But for me ... 

Mindfulness and resilience are two bookends holding space for a joyful life.