I am someone who likes to sweat. Often and profusely. Let me explain.
I have a close relationship with my body. I love feeling my heart pound, breath quicken, pulse race, legs, chest, lungs burn. I love to feel sweat dripping from my face, off my chin, into my eyes, down to my ankles. I love to feel my body work. I like to GO. DO. I’m an animal. I’m a seeker. I’m an overachiever. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.
It’s just that I love to push myself to the brink, to exhaustion, in everything – mind, body and spirit. It is amazing how far we can push ourselves. Our bodies are a marvel. Our minds are magnificent. Our spirits are unbreakable.
And our hearts…
Our hearts are enormous. Colossal. Their capacity is endless. They are the receptacles of all things living. We must push our hearts as we do our minds and bodies and spirits.
Our hearts are not fragile; not really. Not if we are brave enough to keep them open. Not if we are unafraid. Not if we have faith that we will be okay - and we will always be okay. It is the heart's capacity to rise again and again after falling. We must keep it open or we risk missing the beauty and wonderment and absolute bliss of being alive.
The absolute bliss of being alive. Wide awake. It is why we are here. It what we were made to do. It is the multi-dimensional, multi-sensory, boundless adventure of being human. It is our pounding hearts. Our pounding minds. Our pounding spirits. It is Love. It is Sweat. It is Tears. It is all of it.
Do not miss it. Do not miss the burn of being alive. Do not miss having your insides bubble and flutter and glow with the vigor of the universe, every querulous fiber of your being lit up and set on fire. Push yourself. Feel the burn and do not mistake. It is just God breathing on the embers of your soul.
Tuesday, December 11
Friday, December 7
My Heart is Raining Butterflies (revisited)
I find lately that I am so filled with gratitude I feel I might burst right open. I feel my heart might just leap right out of my chest, sprout wings, fly up into the sky and start raining butterflies and fairy dust and daisies. I am beyond blessed. I am so well beyond blessed it is oozing out of me in bucketfuls, in boatloads; all I can do is dole it out here in verbal parcels so as not to completely drown in the stuff.
I don’t want to preach or boast or annoy, but I kind of feel like spinning around on the top of a hilltop belting “the hills are alive with the sound of music.” Okay, I won’t. But my god, have you looked around lately? The hills are alive with the sound of music! And so is the grass, and the trees, and the clouds, and even the perfectly dimpled orange sitting on my desk weighing sweetly against the post-it dispenser. It is all good. It is all God. It is all exactly as it should be.
It is all exactly as it should be.
I don’t believe in God, I believe in everything. I believe in love. I believe in love until the end of time. I believe in happiness. I believe in the bright side and silver linings and it will all work out. I believe in kindness and compassion. I believe in chocolate and wine and french fries. I believe in pure indulgence. I believe in good company and good books and laughing to tears. I believe there is no mountain too high. I believe there is always up. I believe time heals. I believe dreams come true. I believe we can do anything. I believe we are all stronger than we could possibly imagine.
I believe we cannot possibly wrap our heads around it all. There is more than this; there is so much more than all of this, and even for that I am grateful. I can’t fear what I don’t know; I will immerse myself in it; I will wrap myself up in it and make friends with it and cozy up to it and lean into it and have faith that I will not fall.
There is no beyond. There is only here, the infinitely small, infinitely great and utterly demanding present. It does matter. Every little tiny thing matters and must be found and picked up and redeemed. Every little tiny thing is an ingredient in this great big masterpiece, a note in the grand symphony, and if you listen closely you’ll hear it; if you listen very closely, and with much gratitude you will hear how the grass is growing beneath your feet and how my heart is raining butterflies from the sky and how the hills are indeed, alive with the sound of music.
I don’t want to preach or boast or annoy, but I kind of feel like spinning around on the top of a hilltop belting “the hills are alive with the sound of music.” Okay, I won’t. But my god, have you looked around lately? The hills are alive with the sound of music! And so is the grass, and the trees, and the clouds, and even the perfectly dimpled orange sitting on my desk weighing sweetly against the post-it dispenser. It is all good. It is all God. It is all exactly as it should be.
It is all exactly as it should be.
I don’t believe in God, I believe in everything. I believe in love. I believe in love until the end of time. I believe in happiness. I believe in the bright side and silver linings and it will all work out. I believe in kindness and compassion. I believe in chocolate and wine and french fries. I believe in pure indulgence. I believe in good company and good books and laughing to tears. I believe there is no mountain too high. I believe there is always up. I believe time heals. I believe dreams come true. I believe we can do anything. I believe we are all stronger than we could possibly imagine.
I believe we cannot possibly wrap our heads around it all. There is more than this; there is so much more than all of this, and even for that I am grateful. I can’t fear what I don’t know; I will immerse myself in it; I will wrap myself up in it and make friends with it and cozy up to it and lean into it and have faith that I will not fall.
There is no beyond. There is only here, the infinitely small, infinitely great and utterly demanding present. It does matter. Every little tiny thing matters and must be found and picked up and redeemed. Every little tiny thing is an ingredient in this great big masterpiece, a note in the grand symphony, and if you listen closely you’ll hear it; if you listen very closely, and with much gratitude you will hear how the grass is growing beneath your feet and how my heart is raining butterflies from the sky and how the hills are indeed, alive with the sound of music.
Tuesday, November 20
Sea of Gratitude
"A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown."
- William Butler Yeats
I love this Yeats poem; it speaks much to both our independent and codependent nature. We want so badly to share our innermost experiences with others, but often - like the mermaid - we forget that not everyone can go where we go. No one else can go into our depth completely. We must travel there alone.
We are - it seems, in many senses - quite alone in this life. After all, we are designed this way. It is from this singular mind and this singular body that we exist. It is from this singular heart that beats blood and spirit through our bones that we feel our way through our very personal experiences.
This can be a hard piece of truth to swallow - our solitude. But it is beautiful too. It is powerful. It is a beautiful juxtaposition to know we have everything we could ever really need inside ourselves and a sea of adventure to be had outside ourselves. Life is so amazing in this way.
Perhaps not everyone can travel with us; perhaps we will never be fully understood by all. But every life we touch is a gift. And every relationship we have becomes a home where we can return from solitude again and again.
Looking back as this year comes to a close, I see this has been my lesson. Strength of character inside - independent, steady and strong - and the courage to live with mind and heart wide open. I am a mermaid and the world is my lover. I am in love with the possibilities of tomorrow. I am in love with the hope that the best is yet to come.
Life is an ocean of adventure and I swim in a sea of gratitude. Grateful for everyone who has touched my life. For relationships - new and old - fleeting and forever. Ones that are a temporary shelter and those that have made a permanent residence in my heart.
I am thankful for you all. You feed me. You carry me. And I promise to carry you. Even when the waters are deep. Even in the deepest depths of solitude. I promise I will not let you drown.
Picked him for her own
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown."
- William Butler Yeats
I love this Yeats poem; it speaks much to both our independent and codependent nature. We want so badly to share our innermost experiences with others, but often - like the mermaid - we forget that not everyone can go where we go. No one else can go into our depth completely. We must travel there alone.
We are - it seems, in many senses - quite alone in this life. After all, we are designed this way. It is from this singular mind and this singular body that we exist. It is from this singular heart that beats blood and spirit through our bones that we feel our way through our very personal experiences.
This can be a hard piece of truth to swallow - our solitude. But it is beautiful too. It is powerful. It is a beautiful juxtaposition to know we have everything we could ever really need inside ourselves and a sea of adventure to be had outside ourselves. Life is so amazing in this way.
Perhaps not everyone can travel with us; perhaps we will never be fully understood by all. But every life we touch is a gift. And every relationship we have becomes a home where we can return from solitude again and again.
Looking back as this year comes to a close, I see this has been my lesson. Strength of character inside - independent, steady and strong - and the courage to live with mind and heart wide open. I am a mermaid and the world is my lover. I am in love with the possibilities of tomorrow. I am in love with the hope that the best is yet to come.
Life is an ocean of adventure and I swim in a sea of gratitude. Grateful for everyone who has touched my life. For relationships - new and old - fleeting and forever. Ones that are a temporary shelter and those that have made a permanent residence in my heart.
I am thankful for you all. You feed me. You carry me. And I promise to carry you. Even when the waters are deep. Even in the deepest depths of solitude. I promise I will not let you drown.
Sunday, November 4
The Waiting Game
Sometimes life feels like a holding tank. Like the end of an exhale - stale, still, suspended. A waiting game.
I have found myself here time and again - in this waiting room - in a state of repose, anticipation, contemplation. Waiting for inspiration, recognition, change. The waiting can take on a life of its own. It's funny the places our minds go when given leeway - spinning webs, creating stories, worlds existing only within the confines of our interior, subsisting off thoughts we pluck from the skies of our imagination.
Why do we find ourselves here? Idle. Motionless. Stuck. It seems this paralysis of spirit is born from uncertainty and perhaps fear. It comes when we are unclear, apprehensive, when we don't know what we want.
Because the truth is this:
Everything in our lives. Every little thing. Everything we are and everything we long for. Everything we want and cannot have. Everything we have and do not want. Everything. All of it is our creation. We do get what we want. We get exactly what we want.
And so, when we find ourselves waiting, it is an excuse for inaction. It is powerless wanting. It is renouncement of our genius, our potential, our creativity.
Just as you created your way into this hole, you can create your way out of it. Life is never a waiting game when you realize you are the game maker. The creator. If you wait for the perfect time - the perfect opportunity - it will never come. The perfect time is one-foot-in-front-of-the-other-right-fucking-now. And if you find yourself unable to move one way, take a step in the opposite direction. But do not stand still, stagnant, powerless.
Life is not meant to be difficult. I am beginning to realize that there is actually really nothing to figure out at all. There is just living fully in this moment and loving it for exactly what it is.
The first step to freeing yourself from the wait is to love where you are. The second is to realize that you are the one who got yourself there.
So if you're tired of waiting, then get out of the room and declare: Game Over.
I have found myself here time and again - in this waiting room - in a state of repose, anticipation, contemplation. Waiting for inspiration, recognition, change. The waiting can take on a life of its own. It's funny the places our minds go when given leeway - spinning webs, creating stories, worlds existing only within the confines of our interior, subsisting off thoughts we pluck from the skies of our imagination.
Why do we find ourselves here? Idle. Motionless. Stuck. It seems this paralysis of spirit is born from uncertainty and perhaps fear. It comes when we are unclear, apprehensive, when we don't know what we want.
Because the truth is this:
Everything in our lives. Every little thing. Everything we are and everything we long for. Everything we want and cannot have. Everything we have and do not want. Everything. All of it is our creation. We do get what we want. We get exactly what we want.
And so, when we find ourselves waiting, it is an excuse for inaction. It is powerless wanting. It is renouncement of our genius, our potential, our creativity.
Just as you created your way into this hole, you can create your way out of it. Life is never a waiting game when you realize you are the game maker. The creator. If you wait for the perfect time - the perfect opportunity - it will never come. The perfect time is one-foot-in-front-of-the-other-right-fucking-now. And if you find yourself unable to move one way, take a step in the opposite direction. But do not stand still, stagnant, powerless.
Life is not meant to be difficult. I am beginning to realize that there is actually really nothing to figure out at all. There is just living fully in this moment and loving it for exactly what it is.
The first step to freeing yourself from the wait is to love where you are. The second is to realize that you are the one who got yourself there.
So if you're tired of waiting, then get out of the room and declare: Game Over.
Sunday, October 14
Testimony of Leaves
Behold a leaf. A single leaf. So fragile it tears like paper, crushes in your hand to a moist stain, sharply fragrant. Dry, it burns swift and crackling like gunpowder. Held to the light, its veins are like bone work in silhouette. Eden bleeds through.
This single leaf, joined to the tree, drinks poison from the air and spills out oxygen. It tilts to catch the sun, to distill heat and light down the shadows, down to the roots and back up to limbs. To shade the earth. To feed me and you.
A leaf. One single leaf. There are billions upon billions - dancing on tree branches, leaning into the sun, falling to the ground, crumbling into the soil and nourishing the mother from which they came.
It is a marvel really. We live amidst surpassing wonders. It is the air we breathe, the ground we walk on, the skin we inhabit, the way our insides tick and pulse and spin all on their own.
It is these myriad amazing things - toes and eyes, leaf veins and cloudbursts, bedrock and ozone - that by their very constancy and durability wear familiar. The sheer steadfastness of things that surround and uphold us are dull with the caking of the ordinary.
But there is veritable wisdom in nature. In the trees and the sky, the sand and sea and rock that are the immortal backdrop of our lives. The essence of every living thing is embedded in who we are. What the sky knows of passing clouds, we know of passing heartache. What the birds know of air brushing under their wings, we know of the rush of true freedom. What the uppermost tree leaf knows of light as it spreads open for the first time, we know of hope and desire and rebirth.
We all have known moments like this, moments beneath the grid of time - where the soft wind moving through the tree branches is today and one hundred years ago. Where the world is wet with anticipation simply because the sun rises anew each day. Moments without struggle or strain, without manipulation or grasping or safeguarding. There is just the natural unfolding of things. The rhythematic beat of the seasons. The testimony of leaves.
This single leaf, joined to the tree, drinks poison from the air and spills out oxygen. It tilts to catch the sun, to distill heat and light down the shadows, down to the roots and back up to limbs. To shade the earth. To feed me and you.
A leaf. One single leaf. There are billions upon billions - dancing on tree branches, leaning into the sun, falling to the ground, crumbling into the soil and nourishing the mother from which they came.
It is a marvel really. We live amidst surpassing wonders. It is the air we breathe, the ground we walk on, the skin we inhabit, the way our insides tick and pulse and spin all on their own.
It is these myriad amazing things - toes and eyes, leaf veins and cloudbursts, bedrock and ozone - that by their very constancy and durability wear familiar. The sheer steadfastness of things that surround and uphold us are dull with the caking of the ordinary.
But there is veritable wisdom in nature. In the trees and the sky, the sand and sea and rock that are the immortal backdrop of our lives. The essence of every living thing is embedded in who we are. What the sky knows of passing clouds, we know of passing heartache. What the birds know of air brushing under their wings, we know of the rush of true freedom. What the uppermost tree leaf knows of light as it spreads open for the first time, we know of hope and desire and rebirth.
We all have known moments like this, moments beneath the grid of time - where the soft wind moving through the tree branches is today and one hundred years ago. Where the world is wet with anticipation simply because the sun rises anew each day. Moments without struggle or strain, without manipulation or grasping or safeguarding. There is just the natural unfolding of things. The rhythematic beat of the seasons. The testimony of leaves.
Monday, October 1
Life. Done Simply.
Would I be so audacious after my last post to make this statement: Life is simple.
Yes. Yes, I would.
Because when you get down to it – when you really slice through the “business” of living and all of its ramifications and perpetual blabber, there is a clear, unscathed, profoundly distinct and brilliant simplicity that is so effortless and elementary it is almost laughable.
There is no doubt, the business of living is noisy. We go around the world everyday with intense purpose. We drive here and there and get things done. We go to work, shuffle papers. We go home, clean the nest, shuffle dust. We throw parties. We plan vacation. We live our lives, do what we do and then we sleep. It is as ordinary as that.
But there is this for consolation: the quiet moments – off the grid – where our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined. It is singular perfection, and it is perfect because it so clearly promises more. Herein lies the secret to living simply. Herein lies the key to finding happiness.
You must hold onto the promise of more. You must hold onto hope for the extraordinary. You must believe it is there, waiting for you, off your radar screen, off your calendar, outside of your 9-to-5 dress code bullshit comfort zone.
You must know what you want and you must chase after it with raging passion and veracity. Dream about it. Feel it. Feel it fill you up. Do what you love. If you don’t like something, change it. Lean into what feels good. Lean into what feels good. Travel often. Get lost. Find yourself. Go out and start creating. Live your dreams. Share your passion. Inspire others. Lead with your heart. Quiet your mind. Take chances. Love your husband, your wife, your mother, your brother with all you are made of. Love the ocean and the rain and the god damn ice machine. Love your life because you choose to.
Choose to.
There it is: Choose to. There is no destination in life. There is no answer to arrive at. You are the creator. The business of life will take care of itself. The choice for happiness is always yours. Choose to create a life that is full of moments that lift you up and set your heart on fire. Choose the promise of more. Choose the promise of the extraordinary and it will come. Simply.
Yes. Yes, I would.
Because when you get down to it – when you really slice through the “business” of living and all of its ramifications and perpetual blabber, there is a clear, unscathed, profoundly distinct and brilliant simplicity that is so effortless and elementary it is almost laughable.
There is no doubt, the business of living is noisy. We go around the world everyday with intense purpose. We drive here and there and get things done. We go to work, shuffle papers. We go home, clean the nest, shuffle dust. We throw parties. We plan vacation. We live our lives, do what we do and then we sleep. It is as ordinary as that.
But there is this for consolation: the quiet moments – off the grid – where our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined. It is singular perfection, and it is perfect because it so clearly promises more. Herein lies the secret to living simply. Herein lies the key to finding happiness.
You must hold onto the promise of more. You must hold onto hope for the extraordinary. You must believe it is there, waiting for you, off your radar screen, off your calendar, outside of your 9-to-5 dress code bullshit comfort zone.
You must know what you want and you must chase after it with raging passion and veracity. Dream about it. Feel it. Feel it fill you up. Do what you love. If you don’t like something, change it. Lean into what feels good. Lean into what feels good. Travel often. Get lost. Find yourself. Go out and start creating. Live your dreams. Share your passion. Inspire others. Lead with your heart. Quiet your mind. Take chances. Love your husband, your wife, your mother, your brother with all you are made of. Love the ocean and the rain and the god damn ice machine. Love your life because you choose to.
Choose to.
There it is: Choose to. There is no destination in life. There is no answer to arrive at. You are the creator. The business of life will take care of itself. The choice for happiness is always yours. Choose to create a life that is full of moments that lift you up and set your heart on fire. Choose the promise of more. Choose the promise of the extraordinary and it will come. Simply.
Sunday, September 16
Contradictions
Life is full of contradictions. So I hope you will please forgive me while I make several now.
The human tendency is to organize and categorize our behavior and beliefs into nice tidy packages with labels. I suppose it is the necessary nature of civilized society. But life is not tidy. It is messy. It is contradictory.
Life is paradoxical. It is enormously vast, yet wrought with minutia. It is simple and straightforward, yet complex and difficult to navigate. It is predictable and it is slippery. It bores and it thrills. It is profound and it is all smoke and mirrors.
Starring up at the darkened sky, I am reminded how quickly things change, how they so certainly begin one place and then move to something else entirely. When I began this entry the sky was blue and cloudless, and as I finish, night's cloak has ascended and the air has turned thick and heavy.
How mysterious life is in its extremities. And what can we be certain of in a world marked with such inconsistency and disparity? How can we see our way through the muddied water to our "true north?" We have to find our unwavering god within - the center, our compass, the anchor that lives between the contradiction. Between the simplicity and complexity. Between the predictability and the mystery. Behind the smoke and mirrors and underneath the perilous roller coaster of life.
Because underneath it all there is really only one true north. One unnamable, uncategorizable truth which all feelings, all beliefs, all behaviors know as home. It is the cool, calm, steady seat of the soul and it is immune to life's discrepancies. It is within each of us. But it is beneath the flesh and blood that feels and is affected; this makes us human.
Despite our efforts to manipulate our situations, we are still on this ride that is life. Despite our efforts to be happy and not sad, to be calm and not anxious, to be clear and not confused - despite all the ways we carve up our reactions to living, it is only feeling each one of them all the way through that lands us in the vibrant ache that overrides the contradiction and underrides the beauty of being alive.
The human tendency is to organize and categorize our behavior and beliefs into nice tidy packages with labels. I suppose it is the necessary nature of civilized society. But life is not tidy. It is messy. It is contradictory.
Life is paradoxical. It is enormously vast, yet wrought with minutia. It is simple and straightforward, yet complex and difficult to navigate. It is predictable and it is slippery. It bores and it thrills. It is profound and it is all smoke and mirrors.
Starring up at the darkened sky, I am reminded how quickly things change, how they so certainly begin one place and then move to something else entirely. When I began this entry the sky was blue and cloudless, and as I finish, night's cloak has ascended and the air has turned thick and heavy.
How mysterious life is in its extremities. And what can we be certain of in a world marked with such inconsistency and disparity? How can we see our way through the muddied water to our "true north?" We have to find our unwavering god within - the center, our compass, the anchor that lives between the contradiction. Between the simplicity and complexity. Between the predictability and the mystery. Behind the smoke and mirrors and underneath the perilous roller coaster of life.
Because underneath it all there is really only one true north. One unnamable, uncategorizable truth which all feelings, all beliefs, all behaviors know as home. It is the cool, calm, steady seat of the soul and it is immune to life's discrepancies. It is within each of us. But it is beneath the flesh and blood that feels and is affected; this makes us human.
Despite our efforts to manipulate our situations, we are still on this ride that is life. Despite our efforts to be happy and not sad, to be calm and not anxious, to be clear and not confused - despite all the ways we carve up our reactions to living, it is only feeling each one of them all the way through that lands us in the vibrant ache that overrides the contradiction and underrides the beauty of being alive.
Tuesday, September 4
What You Want
Here is the question on the table: What do you want?
And I don’t mean for dinner tonight, or even what you want to be or do or have. I mean what do you really want, at the quiet crux of the day’s end, from your life. What do you breathe for? Yearn for? What turns you on? Lights you up?
I don’t know the answer, but I do think it is likely the same for me as it is for you. Because no matter what adversities you face, I face too. We like to think our experiences – our struggles, our victories – are unique. But they are not. No individual exists in their own nature, independent of all other factors of life. Each of us has the totality of the Universe at our base. Each of us has the whole Universe as our common ground; the entire nature of this world is rooted in the nature of who we are.
The essence of every living thing is embedded – dormantly potent – in the energy of the universal heart that waits beneath the skin of our very own hearts.
We think that we know so much. We try to use our brains to understand what only our hearts can. It is not enough to simply think what we know. We must live it. And only by living it will love show itself as the deepest sort of gravity.
Love – our most significant activity. Love is what brings us to the truth. Love is what we want. To move and be moved by another human being. To be touched by the magnificence of the setting sun, the rain, the moon, the ocean. To feel your insides swell and glow with gratitude for being alive. To love another. To love life. There is nothing more beautiful – nothing more meaningful. Nothing more powerful or gratifying or thrilling. Everything else is just dust and tinkling symbols.
Love is the life blood of our universal heart. It feeds us. If you can master the art of love, love in the purest most honest sense of the word – not in a way that “completes” you or possesses you or defines you; not with desperation or attachment; not in a way that fills a void; not as something you “fall” into or lose yourself in – if you are able to tap into that eternal current of love that connects each one of us together, you will find yourself.
And you will find, you want for nothing.
And I don’t mean for dinner tonight, or even what you want to be or do or have. I mean what do you really want, at the quiet crux of the day’s end, from your life. What do you breathe for? Yearn for? What turns you on? Lights you up?
I don’t know the answer, but I do think it is likely the same for me as it is for you. Because no matter what adversities you face, I face too. We like to think our experiences – our struggles, our victories – are unique. But they are not. No individual exists in their own nature, independent of all other factors of life. Each of us has the totality of the Universe at our base. Each of us has the whole Universe as our common ground; the entire nature of this world is rooted in the nature of who we are.
The essence of every living thing is embedded – dormantly potent – in the energy of the universal heart that waits beneath the skin of our very own hearts.
We think that we know so much. We try to use our brains to understand what only our hearts can. It is not enough to simply think what we know. We must live it. And only by living it will love show itself as the deepest sort of gravity.
Love – our most significant activity. Love is what brings us to the truth. Love is what we want. To move and be moved by another human being. To be touched by the magnificence of the setting sun, the rain, the moon, the ocean. To feel your insides swell and glow with gratitude for being alive. To love another. To love life. There is nothing more beautiful – nothing more meaningful. Nothing more powerful or gratifying or thrilling. Everything else is just dust and tinkling symbols.
Love is the life blood of our universal heart. It feeds us. If you can master the art of love, love in the purest most honest sense of the word – not in a way that “completes” you or possesses you or defines you; not with desperation or attachment; not in a way that fills a void; not as something you “fall” into or lose yourself in – if you are able to tap into that eternal current of love that connects each one of us together, you will find yourself.
And you will find, you want for nothing.
Sunday, August 26
Borrowed Bones
Once in a while, we are given moments of real grace. Moments of knowing who we are, not by surface markers of identity, not by where we work or how we dress, but by feeling our tender place in this world. And rather than finding ourselves in everything, we find everything in ourselves.
In the end, nobody keeps any of what they have. Life is only a borrowing of bones. And so, while our hearts still beat, we must remember that everything is right where we are. All of life is in whatever moment we wake to.
We try so hard to find what we need - what we want - outside of ourselves. We chase after objects, people, experiences. We become masters at climbing the mountains of the world instead of breaking trail into our center. We become masters at seducing strangers to feel loved instead of embracing the softer, less perfect aspects of who we are.
In the end, seeking only brings us to the edge of knowing ourselves. If we never look inward we become experts of life on the edge. We become chronic amnesiacs of spirit, seldomly unlocking what all our seeking means.
In order to find true peace - true grace - we must take a genuine risk inside.
Our aliveness depends on our ability to generate and sustain wonder inside ourselves, for ourselves. To lengthen the moments we are truly uncovered, beneath our borrowed bones. To be still and quiet until all of the elements and activity of this earth stir the facets of infinite, boundless life waiting within us.
Tuesday, August 14
The World Is Your Playground
Another move. Another address. Another chapter in my story. Sometimes it feels I’ve lived a thousand lives and died a thousand deaths. Yes, in many ways life is short. But damn, life is long too. It is long and deep and profound and intricately rich. It is full, bursting, overflowing, plump with the quandaries of being alive. But it’s funny, because for me, the deeper I slip into my years, the farther I get from the ground. Like I’m floating above myself, peering into the window of my life.
Lately it feels as though I've become unhinged, unbound, uninhibited. I am no longer searching, I am just opening. I am no longer trying to make sense of pain but instead trying to be a soft and sturdy home in which the truth can land. I see so clearly how we make our way through this world - through our days, forging ahead - how we build our little lives, make rules, set standards, restraining ourselves, clinging desperately to ideals. We become rigid, repressed, trapped inside a narrowly manufactured picture of who we think we should be. We define ourselves in hard terms and then we live up to them. Because what else would we live up to if not the story we’ve created for ourselves?
Life is unpredictable. It is god damn scary. We cannot know beyond this present moment. Each one of us lives on the shore between the depths of being and the dangers of experience. Oh well. This is life. And here is the truth: There is no one else but you. No one else but YOU. You are the master of your destiny. You are the creator, the conductor, the architect, the author of your story. You are the commander of your happiness. You are magnificent.
And the world is your playground.
The world is YOUR playground.
Have FUN! You can be anyone. Be who you want to be. Life is a game. WIN.
Life is so fucking good. It is an explosion of bliss. Explore it. Choose to be happy. Choose to free yourself from old patterns. Choose to let go of all of your should and should nots. Choose to face life squarely enough to see that it is not a barricade but a door into the endless breath that has no breather. It is only YOU. Choose to let go of every little thing that is holding you back and DIVE, naked, into this moment.
Dive into THIS moment.
The water is perfect. Trust me.
Dive into THIS moment.
The water is perfect. Trust me.
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