Prayer

Let this be easy...

My prayer when things feel big: let this be easy. 

My prayer when things feel small: let this be easy. 

My prayer when I am overwhelmed: let this be easy. 

My prayer when I am underwhelmed: let this be easy. 

My prayer when I am confused: let this be easy. 

My prayer when I am crystal clear: let this be easy. 

My prayer when life feels heavy: let this be easy. 

My prayer when life feels light: let this be easy.  

Life is not always light or heavy or clear or confusing or underwhelming or overwhelming or small or big. To that I say, too bad and thank goodness.

Nothing lasts for ever, especially when you float out a request to let it be easy. Four simple words and reeeeeeelease. When you support your prayers with the trust they they will be fulfilled the process of truly letting go delivers what you need. One way, or another.

May it be easy.

May it be so. 

96 words on anger management

Strip your mind clean of enemies, 
just call them people instead,
don’t offer them
the satisfaction of your anger
don’t let them feel your racing heart in their empty hands
don’t let them fill their voids
by creating one in you.

Love them instead.

Shower them with the blessings of the high heavens;
step out of your ancestors' matryoshka nest
and ask them to cradle these broken hearts instead.

Your fire is too precious to squander
in tugs of war not worthy of devotion,
love in God’s stead—
it’s precisely what you were born to do.

Fresh starts, daily

I made a few resolutions on December 31, 2015 but only one stuck—

Resolution five: start the day reading Rumi and then meditate. Every day.

I've lived many years where my only resolution was to not have one. Years where I sat right next to Change and politely whispered, "Shush."

Years where she and I hopped forward, ankles tied together, feet in a potato sack, inching our way to an imaginary finish line that disappeared just two, short hops away.

Years where I traded her for her sister Complacency and we cuddled in front of a screen and numbed our senses in the soft dim of pixel light (not to be confused with pixie dust).

Then there were years where Change snuck in on her own, hurricane-style, as she so often does after being silenced, dragged, traded or ignored. Hard to blame her, even she can only take so much.

But this Rumi resolution? This is Change at her most loving. This is Change inching through me day by day, page by page, word by word, cell by cell. There isn't a day the Genius of Love doesn't make me stop, think, smile and/or gasp for air. 

The real (re)solution here? Choosing to start every day grounded in love, thinking about love, absorbing love, meditating on the incomprehensible stream of love within me, within you. And then, and only then, entering into The Day. 

Give us the inner listening
that is a way in itself
and the oldest thirst there is.

Do not measure it out with a cup.
I am a fish. You are the moon.

You cannot touch me, but your light
fills the ocean where I live.
— Rumi, excerpt from The Oldest Thirst There Is

Sometimes I wonder what my days would have been like if I started them this way when I was a young(er) mother. Or, better yet, even before that when I was single and working in the advertising industry. I doubt I would have found the time to squeeze Rumi in between five cigarettes, two cups of coffee and a shower, but if I had? Who knows, really. We land where we land when we're ready, and not a second sooner. 

And so I'm here. Gentle contemplation. Inner listening. Quiet quenching. 

Day by day by day by day by day. 

How about you? Did you do that resolution thing this year? And if so, did it stick?

It's never to early to make a fresh start. Today is always a good day to begin again.


If you'd like to tap into your own inner listening, join me for Moonshine, a live event happening at my studio, August 29th, 7-9PM. Space is very limited. You can learn more and sign up here.  

 

Breaking the silence

feather.JPG

I am waiting for you

to not need

a feather 

to know that I am here. 

 

I am waiting for you 

to not need

someone else's smile

to lift the sides of your own mouth. 

 

I am waiting for you 

to not need 

a pat on the back 

for doing the right thing 

for, in your un-humble opinion, the wrong person.

 

I am waiting for you 

to not need 

to pretend to know 

the answers to every question. 

 

I am waiting for you 

to not need

me to dance around you

vying for your attention, witnessing your devotions. 

 

I am waiting for you 

to know 

I've been dancing inside you 

all along. 

 

I am

waiting.