Monday, November 8, 2010
DANCING HULA!
It’s been ages since my last entry. Here’s the reason: In October I went on a meditation retreat at San Damiano. Most of us know that in meditation we are attempting to still the mind. The retreat facilitator said many memorable things, but when he mentioned how difficult it is to quiet our minds, living as we do in the digital world of computers, that is when I sat up and really began to pay attention! I love computer technology, as evidenced by creating this blog. But computers and television present a myriad of images, making it ever more difficult to quiet one’s mind. I had toyed with the idea of cutting back on my computer time, and on retreat I became convinced this was necessary, if I want to make it easier to quiet my mind for daily meditation. Hence, my lack of blog posts these many months.
I don’t want to give up my blog! But I do plan to keep the entries to widely spaced updates. I will continue using the blog as an online journal, publishing a post occasionally when the Spirit moves me.
And now, on to HULA!!
Last June, a friend invited me to her first hula recital. She had completed a six-month beginner course and the followup class, and their teacher had organized a recital so the students could perform for the community at large.
To support my friend I went to the recital, unprepared for the sheer enjoyment I experienced watching these women (and one man) dance the hula! Enthusiasm and warmth are two words that come to mind, to describe what the dancers conveyed onstage that day. The group embodied the aloha spirit: there were young and old women, large and small, and male and female dancers. Each person was welcomed and respected, whatever the level of his or her ability.
I’ve always loved to dance, but I haven’t done much of that in recent years. My thoughts as I watched my friend and her group perform were that I would love to join the group and learn to dance Hawaiian style. And that’s what I did, when the next class started up last September.
When we completed our eight-week course just last Friday, it was our turn to have a recital. We invited a few family and friends, and you can watch the video Tom made, above this blog!
Learning to dance the hula is all, and more, than I hoped it would be! I love every moment, every movement, the music, the aloha spirit, the sensuousness, and especially our teacher, Betty Ann. For an hour and a half each week, I am magically transported to the Islands, as I sway and dance, island-style!
ALOHA!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
EUROPE!
One morning early this year, Tom awoke and said, “Let’s go to Europe!” I had pretty much given up the idea of a trip to Europe, so this was a surprise, to put it mildly! Since Tom had never been overseas, I left it up to him to decide where he’d like to go. He chose a river tour that began in Amsterdam, cruised the Rhine, Mosel and Danube Rivers, and ended in Vienna, with the majority of the trip passing through Germany.
We had a glorious 16-day trip, stopping every day to tour a different town or city. Quite honestly, I had never had a big yearning to go to Germany. I’m probably 50% German, but I had long condemned the German people for their acquiescence to Hitler’s Holocaust. This trip was a healing one for me. Most of the Germans we met and talked with were of one mind. They uniformly stated that the era of the Third Reich was their darkest hour in history, and they all agreed that the German people must look at that period and expose it to the world community, and never let it happen again.
Acknowledging that the citizens of the United States (that includes me) had allowed our country to invade the sovereign nation of Iraq, with the resulting deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent Iraqi citizens, I knew that we are no better than the Germans. Thus, our German tour became for me a time of forgiveness, both of the Germans and of my fellow countrymen.
We had a glorious 16-day trip, stopping every day to tour a different town or city. Quite honestly, I had never had a big yearning to go to Germany. I’m probably 50% German, but I had long condemned the German people for their acquiescence to Hitler’s Holocaust. This trip was a healing one for me. Most of the Germans we met and talked with were of one mind. They uniformly stated that the era of the Third Reich was their darkest hour in history, and they all agreed that the German people must look at that period and expose it to the world community, and never let it happen again.
Acknowledging that the citizens of the United States (that includes me) had allowed our country to invade the sovereign nation of Iraq, with the resulting deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent Iraqi citizens, I knew that we are no better than the Germans. Thus, our German tour became for me a time of forgiveness, both of the Germans and of my fellow countrymen.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
AMAZING GRACE!
This is a song of gratefulness! You who have children have known times of pain, I’m certain, as well as the moments of pure joy that your children have laid at the doorstep of your heart. Today is Mother’s Day, and now is the time to savor the loving moments, to lay to rest those times when the pain has been so raw, so deep, you thought you would not survive.
But yes, today I feel only the glorious love that I have for my sons, and I am luxuriating in their love for me. We spent a couple of hours over lunch, just us three, sharing Himalayan dishes as well as stories of our lives. My sons are like most young men, I suspect: it is rare they give up the secrets of their hearts to anyone, much less their mothers. But today they were at ease as we ate, and they talked of their children, books they’re reading, trips they’ve taken recently for pleasure, and business trips they’ll embark upon in the next 24 hours.
Then it came time to open my gifts (as if my time with them weren’t gift enough!). First I opened Mike’s card, and the sentiment on the front pierced my heart straightaway. But when I read what he had written inside, the tears welled up in my eyes.
" As I lay down roots for my family
and try to instill in them the core
values I hold dear, it makes me
appreciate the foundation that was
built for me…and even more so
who is behind that.
Thank you for being my mom, and
for all you’ve done and still do!
With love,
Mike"
There are fleeting moments when you feel the hand of God touch you, when you know a part of you will never die, when love overflows in your heart and you know that this love will live forever. This was such a moment, and I am still dwelling inside that feeling as I write this.
Doug’s gift was the sweet necklace you see here, so delicate, my initial in gold, and I put it on immediately.
My heart is so full! This is such a sweet and grace-filled moment! May your hearts also be transformed today, as your families honor you and all you have done for them!
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!
But yes, today I feel only the glorious love that I have for my sons, and I am luxuriating in their love for me. We spent a couple of hours over lunch, just us three, sharing Himalayan dishes as well as stories of our lives. My sons are like most young men, I suspect: it is rare they give up the secrets of their hearts to anyone, much less their mothers. But today they were at ease as we ate, and they talked of their children, books they’re reading, trips they’ve taken recently for pleasure, and business trips they’ll embark upon in the next 24 hours.
Then it came time to open my gifts (as if my time with them weren’t gift enough!). First I opened Mike’s card, and the sentiment on the front pierced my heart straightaway. But when I read what he had written inside, the tears welled up in my eyes.
" As I lay down roots for my family
and try to instill in them the core
values I hold dear, it makes me
appreciate the foundation that was
built for me…and even more so
who is behind that.
Thank you for being my mom, and
for all you’ve done and still do!
With love,
Mike"
There are fleeting moments when you feel the hand of God touch you, when you know a part of you will never die, when love overflows in your heart and you know that this love will live forever. This was such a moment, and I am still dwelling inside that feeling as I write this.
Doug’s gift was the sweet necklace you see here, so delicate, my initial in gold, and I put it on immediately.
My heart is so full! This is such a sweet and grace-filled moment! May your hearts also be transformed today, as your families honor you and all you have done for them!
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
OLD THINGS
While cooking pasta recently, I took down from a high shelf this bent and tarnished colander. When my mother-in-law died six years ago, my husband and I went through her many possessions, giving some away to family and friends, tossing others, and keeping some things for ourselves. One of the items that seemed to speak to me was this colander, so I took it home.
I already had a shiny, new colander that was twice its size. Why did I decide to keep this worn one? Perhaps my mother had one just like it when I was growing up, and it subconsciously brought warm memories of home-cooked meals with my parents and three sisters.
I suspect this old thing possesses character, unlike the bright new one. It’s seen countless years of use, and would have tales to tell, if it could speak.
One of the lessons I learned on my Vision Quest in 2000 was that all things possess the Spirit. The only reason that molecules bind together and form objects is because they are directed by an Unseen Hand. This lowly colander has Spirit, just as I do. I respect that.
In addition, though, the very qualities of age, the tarnished metal, and the warped shape all seem to me to be beautiful. I, too, am worn. My hair no longer gleams with warm shades of honey. The sleek shape I was so proud of for many years is now a thing of the past. And yet, am I not still beautiful in a way that reflects inner character? I like to think that is true.
Admiring my old colander and loving it for its age and worn beauty, is a metaphor for loving myself as I grow older. Just as I appreciate the colander for its character, its years of service, and its tarnished beauty, so too I am grateful for this body that has served me well, and for my open and growing spirit.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Resurrection
(If you are reading this by way of an email notification, it is rather lengthy. You may prefer reading it on my blog: www.mary-alongtheway.blogspot.com).
How very appropriate, given this is Easter weekend: I feel viscerally that I have been given my life back.
Recently after a routine mammogram, I was called back for a second exam: the radiologist had seen a suspicious spot. That’s never happened before, and I’ve never had a foreboding that cancer was in my future, although I understand that I am as vulnerable as anyone else. One or the other will get us all in the end (cancer or heart problems), unless an accident intervenes. I’m far from “doom-and-gloom” about this, as we all have a one-way ticket in this miracle we call Life.
After viewing the second mammogram, the radiologist recommended a needle biopsy to determine whether the spot/calcifications were malignant. From the moment I received the call to repeat the mammogram until this morning nine days later, I have experienced a wide range of feelings, thoughts and emotions. Certainly I prayed there was no malignancy. But I also realized that I have had an exceedingly good life. I didn’t wonder “Why me?” when I have been so richly blessed with my oh-so supportive husband and partner, a loving family, a wealth of true friends, and comparatively good health all these years. It is a tragedy when a young person succumbs to cancer, yes. Even though I’m not young, the onset of cancer would be devastating. I dreaded the treatments, the doctors’ appointments, the surgeries, and so on. Oh, how I dreaded it!
These nine days have been a suspenseful time, during which I prayed and centered myself through meditation. I did not anticipate bad news, but I needed to prepare myself emotionally for the possibility.
This morning I received the very good news that the calcifications are benign, which I had been told is usually the case, and I wept with the relief of it all.
May I tell you about the gifts I received from this experience? Foremost is a renewed gratitude for Tom’s presence at my side, through the good times and the hard times. He never wavers. Tom took off work to accompany me to the hospital for the needle biopsy. For a day afterwards, I felt cherished and cared for (but then Tom always makes me feel that way!), as he cooked the meals and reminded me to take it easy, do no lifting, and simply rest. Some people live their entire lives never being cherished and loved! I thought about what it would be like to go through the challenges that accompany growing older, without the unconditional love and support that Tom gives me. It would be a hell, and I am reminded once more that Tom is a grace in my life that is a gift and a blessing beyond my comprehension.
A second gift arose from this health scare, and that is the love I felt from my two sons. Parents who have not experienced the trauma of divorce and the shattering of their family often give (and receive) love from their offspring without a second thought. It’s different for those of us who are divorced, however. There is a kind of tentativeness in our relationships with our kids, because there has been a lot of pain on all sides. My gift was that my sons responded to this situation with complete support and love for me. Their relief when I told them the good news of non-malignancy was palpable. I was brought up short by how they each expressed their love and thankfulness that I had received good news. This was a gift of their unconditional love, and I melted at the fierceness of that love, which overcame all the pain of the divorce years.
I did receive one final gift. We who have been brought up with a belief in God have been taught that God is always present to us. We have that knowledge in our heads, but rarely does it move the short distance from our heads to our hearts. For a brief time as I prayed, meditated, and awaited the results of the biopsy, I experienced in my being the feeling of being completely held and cherished by God (or by the Universe or the Presence), and that I could relax into those “Arms of Love”. I didn’t need to plan or do anything, as the knowledge of what to do would be given to me in each given moment. Whether cancer was found or not, I was at peace, because I knew I was one with God, or the Presence. Nothing separates me from the Divine!
I wish I could tell you that I have sustained that “felt” sense of the Divine’s presence. I do get brief moments when I feel it again. But mostly the awareness is in my head, rather than in my heart. I’m grateful to have felt it at all though, and I know that if I am patient and persistent, it will come to me more and more over time.
I would like to end this by quoting Deepak Chopra from his book, "The Third Jesus":
“Spirit grows spontaneously, in its own time.
Have patience, and persist.”
Happy Easter!
How very appropriate, given this is Easter weekend: I feel viscerally that I have been given my life back.
Recently after a routine mammogram, I was called back for a second exam: the radiologist had seen a suspicious spot. That’s never happened before, and I’ve never had a foreboding that cancer was in my future, although I understand that I am as vulnerable as anyone else. One or the other will get us all in the end (cancer or heart problems), unless an accident intervenes. I’m far from “doom-and-gloom” about this, as we all have a one-way ticket in this miracle we call Life.
After viewing the second mammogram, the radiologist recommended a needle biopsy to determine whether the spot/calcifications were malignant. From the moment I received the call to repeat the mammogram until this morning nine days later, I have experienced a wide range of feelings, thoughts and emotions. Certainly I prayed there was no malignancy. But I also realized that I have had an exceedingly good life. I didn’t wonder “Why me?” when I have been so richly blessed with my oh-so supportive husband and partner, a loving family, a wealth of true friends, and comparatively good health all these years. It is a tragedy when a young person succumbs to cancer, yes. Even though I’m not young, the onset of cancer would be devastating. I dreaded the treatments, the doctors’ appointments, the surgeries, and so on. Oh, how I dreaded it!
These nine days have been a suspenseful time, during which I prayed and centered myself through meditation. I did not anticipate bad news, but I needed to prepare myself emotionally for the possibility.
This morning I received the very good news that the calcifications are benign, which I had been told is usually the case, and I wept with the relief of it all.
May I tell you about the gifts I received from this experience? Foremost is a renewed gratitude for Tom’s presence at my side, through the good times and the hard times. He never wavers. Tom took off work to accompany me to the hospital for the needle biopsy. For a day afterwards, I felt cherished and cared for (but then Tom always makes me feel that way!), as he cooked the meals and reminded me to take it easy, do no lifting, and simply rest. Some people live their entire lives never being cherished and loved! I thought about what it would be like to go through the challenges that accompany growing older, without the unconditional love and support that Tom gives me. It would be a hell, and I am reminded once more that Tom is a grace in my life that is a gift and a blessing beyond my comprehension.
A second gift arose from this health scare, and that is the love I felt from my two sons. Parents who have not experienced the trauma of divorce and the shattering of their family often give (and receive) love from their offspring without a second thought. It’s different for those of us who are divorced, however. There is a kind of tentativeness in our relationships with our kids, because there has been a lot of pain on all sides. My gift was that my sons responded to this situation with complete support and love for me. Their relief when I told them the good news of non-malignancy was palpable. I was brought up short by how they each expressed their love and thankfulness that I had received good news. This was a gift of their unconditional love, and I melted at the fierceness of that love, which overcame all the pain of the divorce years.
I did receive one final gift. We who have been brought up with a belief in God have been taught that God is always present to us. We have that knowledge in our heads, but rarely does it move the short distance from our heads to our hearts. For a brief time as I prayed, meditated, and awaited the results of the biopsy, I experienced in my being the feeling of being completely held and cherished by God (or by the Universe or the Presence), and that I could relax into those “Arms of Love”. I didn’t need to plan or do anything, as the knowledge of what to do would be given to me in each given moment. Whether cancer was found or not, I was at peace, because I knew I was one with God, or the Presence. Nothing separates me from the Divine!
I wish I could tell you that I have sustained that “felt” sense of the Divine’s presence. I do get brief moments when I feel it again. But mostly the awareness is in my head, rather than in my heart. I’m grateful to have felt it at all though, and I know that if I am patient and persistent, it will come to me more and more over time.
I would like to end this by quoting Deepak Chopra from his book, "The Third Jesus":
“Spirit grows spontaneously, in its own time.
Have patience, and persist.”
Happy Easter!
Monday, March 22, 2010
What It Is
For a few years now, I’ve been adjusting my running and exercise around a pulled upper thigh muscle. After having an MRI and a consult with a neurosurgeon, it's been pretty much determined that nothing serious is going on. As the years pass, pulled muscles and aches and pains come more frequently. We all know this!
Two or three years into it, I’ve treated the condition with an anti-inflammatory, and toned down my exercise routine.
Recently, however, I was able to run for four days in a row, and I started believing that the muscle had mended itself! Wrong! Once again the pain returned, after being absent for several weeks. The worst part was the emotional letdown. Because I let myself, albeit cautiously, think the problem had finally been corrected, when it came back I was bitterly disappointed.
Of course I could stay in that place of feeling bad, but why would I want to do that? Instead, I’m moving into acceptance. This is my new normal! A modified workout is better than no workout at all! Now I believe that this pulled muscle is something I just have to learn to live with.
It is what it is.
Two or three years into it, I’ve treated the condition with an anti-inflammatory, and toned down my exercise routine.
Recently, however, I was able to run for four days in a row, and I started believing that the muscle had mended itself! Wrong! Once again the pain returned, after being absent for several weeks. The worst part was the emotional letdown. Because I let myself, albeit cautiously, think the problem had finally been corrected, when it came back I was bitterly disappointed.
Of course I could stay in that place of feeling bad, but why would I want to do that? Instead, I’m moving into acceptance. This is my new normal! A modified workout is better than no workout at all! Now I believe that this pulled muscle is something I just have to learn to live with.
It is what it is.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Just a Thought
There’s a room in our house that serves as my meditation room, and when needed, converts to a bedroom for our grandchildren. From where I sit in meditation, I can look out on our yard, where a huge old sycamore tree dwells majestically. I believe it was planted when our house was built sixty some-odd years ago.It occurred to me this morning as I looked out at the tree that each cell in our sycamore responds to the direction of the Creator. In the dead of winter its cells are active, doing whatever a tree does to keep itself healthy and alive. The bark looks dead, yet it too has cells that hold the Divine.
Musing on this, I thought how each cell in my own body responds to, and contains, the Divine, as does every person, plant and animal, in fact all things. We all share the Divine. This gave me a deeper sense of the relatedness of all that is.
As a child I pictured God as a kindly judge with a flowing white beard, residing somewhere in the sky where He looked down upon His creation. Substituting an image of the Creative Force, I pictured the Divine looking over all of creation and viewing it as One. I imagined this Mystery seeing the edges of the expanding Universe, and then focusing on the myriad galaxies. Moving closer, the Divine would see our own galaxy, our solar system, our sun, and finally our earth. From there the Creator would zero in on each individual human, plant, animal and object on our planet. From the macrocosm of the Universe, to the microcosm of each individual cell, atom and quark, the Divine breathes Life into it all. All of it is interrelated, all of it is One, all of it breathes in unison. Not just the ocean and I breathe as one (as I wrote and posted in a recent poem), but I breathe with the entire Universe!
What are YOUR thoughts on this? As much as I love putting my thoughts down, I very much enjoy hearing what YOU think.
May the peace of the Universe warm you and ground you this day!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Graced Moments
In my last post, I mentioned a friend who said that this decade, her sixties, is the happiest time of her life. We were sharing over tea, and I spoke to her of how I admired the strength she has shown in the five years or so that I've known her. She has faced the difficulties that she encountered during her life, which had left their mark on her in various ways. Since I’ve known her, I’ve seen her slowly emerge from a kind of cocoon, into the radiant being she is now. It’s been beautiful to watch!
My friend agreed that she’d gone through a lot of hard work to address the problems with professional help. But she also said that I had been a big part of her growth, that as her friend, I’d always listened deeply, without judgment or advice, simply being there, celebrating her just as she is, and supporting her throughout.
As she said these words, she was looking at me with such honesty, love and gratitude, that my insides simply melted. I felt the hand of the Divine upon my head, gently blessing me. For an instant, the veil that separates us from the Source Of All That Is Good was lifted, and we were wrapped in a moment of grace.
Each of you reading this has blessed me at some time, in that special heart-stopping way. You have made a difference in my life by sharing your unique self with me. As I think of you, I am remembering those special moments of grace, like pearls on a beloved necklace, and I know that I am a better person because you are in my life!
Happy Valentine’s Day!
My friend agreed that she’d gone through a lot of hard work to address the problems with professional help. But she also said that I had been a big part of her growth, that as her friend, I’d always listened deeply, without judgment or advice, simply being there, celebrating her just as she is, and supporting her throughout.
As she said these words, she was looking at me with such honesty, love and gratitude, that my insides simply melted. I felt the hand of the Divine upon my head, gently blessing me. For an instant, the veil that separates us from the Source Of All That Is Good was lifted, and we were wrapped in a moment of grace.
Each of you reading this has blessed me at some time, in that special heart-stopping way. You have made a difference in my life by sharing your unique self with me. As I think of you, I am remembering those special moments of grace, like pearls on a beloved necklace, and I know that I am a better person because you are in my life!
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Seasons of My Life
No doubt lots of people prefer the Fall over any other time of the year, just as I do. Now that I'm in the autumn of my life--to quote Frank Sinatra-- I find that it has also become the favorite season of my life.
No one’s health will remain good forever, but while I do have good health, I’m free to enjoy the fruits of having lived a number of years on this planet.
Yesterday a friend told me this is the happiest she has ever been, and she is approaching 65! I reminded her that for years she has been working diligently on a number of “issues” in her life, and now she is able to enjoy the benefits of her hard work.
All of us are born into families and situations that affect who we are. “Issues” may be an overused word, but perhaps we can think of “issues” as comparable to the “Original Sin” of the Christian tradition. If we have the temperament to want to improve our character and grow (surprisingly, not all people are interested in that), we spend a fair amount of time and energy as adults working through our “issues”. It may take years of effort, but from personal experience I’ve seen that eventually you will emerge whole, and blossom into the person you are meant to be.
In 2001, a friend’s daughter jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge. She was 14 years old. I have often longed to have been able to talk with her in the days leading up to her death. I would have urged her to hold on just one more day--she might have felt differently the next day. If only she had talked to a wise older woman, who might have told her that Life has its seasons. Yes, there are really hard times. The growing up years hold their own fears and obstacles. The parenting year are challenging too, even while there is immense joy watching your children grow into responsible adults. But if you hang on, if you can just make it to the next day, you might feel a little more hopeful about life.
Many times I’ve expressed gratitude to be alive in my sixties, inasmuch as many of my contemporaries have passed on. I know only too well how fortunate I am that my health is still good. Now I am hyper-aware that time is a precious commodity. I see each breath as a blessing, each person in my family a gift, every friend a surprising joy. Life is incredibly beautiful at 67, and I never would have thought it would be so.
No one’s health will remain good forever, but while I do have good health, I’m free to enjoy the fruits of having lived a number of years on this planet.
Yesterday a friend told me this is the happiest she has ever been, and she is approaching 65! I reminded her that for years she has been working diligently on a number of “issues” in her life, and now she is able to enjoy the benefits of her hard work.
All of us are born into families and situations that affect who we are. “Issues” may be an overused word, but perhaps we can think of “issues” as comparable to the “Original Sin” of the Christian tradition. If we have the temperament to want to improve our character and grow (surprisingly, not all people are interested in that), we spend a fair amount of time and energy as adults working through our “issues”. It may take years of effort, but from personal experience I’ve seen that eventually you will emerge whole, and blossom into the person you are meant to be.
In 2001, a friend’s daughter jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge. She was 14 years old. I have often longed to have been able to talk with her in the days leading up to her death. I would have urged her to hold on just one more day--she might have felt differently the next day. If only she had talked to a wise older woman, who might have told her that Life has its seasons. Yes, there are really hard times. The growing up years hold their own fears and obstacles. The parenting year are challenging too, even while there is immense joy watching your children grow into responsible adults. But if you hang on, if you can just make it to the next day, you might feel a little more hopeful about life.
Many times I’ve expressed gratitude to be alive in my sixties, inasmuch as many of my contemporaries have passed on. I know only too well how fortunate I am that my health is still good. Now I am hyper-aware that time is a precious commodity. I see each breath as a blessing, each person in my family a gift, every friend a surprising joy. Life is incredibly beautiful at 67, and I never would have thought it would be so.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
It’s been on my mind to post an entry for days. But it’s been more a desire simply to keep up with the blog, and not really a story bubbling up inside, wanting to be written down. From the first, my blog has been a place to share with friends what is going on in my life, both the outer circumstances and the inner changes and awarenesses. I call it my journal. But I want to write when I am moved to do so, not simply to fill up a page.
January is a cold and silent month. We’ve taken down the holiday decorations, and the house and yard look a little barren and forlorn. We’re in the aftermath of the holiday season and the celebrations are over. Now it’s back to the mundane business of our everyday lives.
As dreary days of fog and rain pile up, one atop the other, I feel a familiar heaviness knocking on the door of my heart. But I’ve been here before. The winter months of dark skies and cold, wet weather want to drag me down. But in the morning as I meditate, the song of a bird lifts my spirits. It reminds me that spring and rebirth lay not too far in the future. There is no need to be fearful. Rather, I will sit awhile with the grayness, and give my body over to the slower pace of these winter months. Renewal is taking place all around me, and also within me, even though I may not see it. Can I generously open my heart to the dark, to the quiet, to the cold? I feel that I am beginning to do so, and in return I am being gifted with the peace that comes from acceptance. In trusting the season, fear ebbs from my heart and in its place, calm settles in.
All is as it is meant to be.
January is a cold and silent month. We’ve taken down the holiday decorations, and the house and yard look a little barren and forlorn. We’re in the aftermath of the holiday season and the celebrations are over. Now it’s back to the mundane business of our everyday lives.
As dreary days of fog and rain pile up, one atop the other, I feel a familiar heaviness knocking on the door of my heart. But I’ve been here before. The winter months of dark skies and cold, wet weather want to drag me down. But in the morning as I meditate, the song of a bird lifts my spirits. It reminds me that spring and rebirth lay not too far in the future. There is no need to be fearful. Rather, I will sit awhile with the grayness, and give my body over to the slower pace of these winter months. Renewal is taking place all around me, and also within me, even though I may not see it. Can I generously open my heart to the dark, to the quiet, to the cold? I feel that I am beginning to do so, and in return I am being gifted with the peace that comes from acceptance. In trusting the season, fear ebbs from my heart and in its place, calm settles in.
All is as it is meant to be.
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