Diamonds

For those who have endured such a winter, a meager and already melting half inch of snow is not exactly breaking news. But here where the mountains have been shrouded in dust, last night gifted rare and precious diamonds. Even the droplet contained a lake. Abundance.

I can see so many metaphors of life. I can see so many ways to take this droplet and weave it into my moving through life. But this morning, this drop, this diamond waiting to fall upon the waiting earth is simply that. To appreciate and give thanks for a droplet as it is.

Startled Soul

Sometimes I rub these precious failing eyes as they struggle to see and wonder how long the gift will be mine. Then to turn their gaze upward and see. Sweet mercy the gift, as it is, startles my soul with joy.

Brevity's Sustenance

How could I ever doubt that this day is a gift? That even the brevity of this joy would not be the sustenance of the day?

Without a Knock

My favorite and often whispered phrase "sweet mercy." Not something earned or worked for. Not something bestowed as a gift nor even something we give away. Its only entourage is our breath and heart beat. Like a giggle, it arouses our awareness and reminds us of simple joy. Entering our being with our first breath it waits to bud before the last. It is patient and undemanding quietly moving to the end of the line of our grasping, clinging, if only's and this and that. It will not leave us. It simply waits...sweet, sweet, sweet mercy of life. Giggle, ain't it grand!

Tis.

Tis. A word without judgment, without a single what if, could be, should be, or if it were. It is not complacent. It is the power of the keystone, the gap, the fulcrum between the inhalation and exhalation. A reminder that we cannot simply inhale nor can we only exhale. Written backwards it is the reminder to sit. It is the raising of the heart's chalice and toast of L'Chaim! ...with no if, or, nor, or but.

On this day of winter's solstice may we all know winter's transforming fire of tis. And when the solstice's night quilts our sleep, may we whisper twas and release.

Opening Christmas Day 10: Unbounded Sitting

On this day 10 of opening Christmas I paused in my tiny room I think of as the sun room. Shelves hold my little plants and yes, the floor beneath provides a bit of storage. The window faces the west where I can sit in my grandmother’s rocking chair and watch the sun set. A small room, for some houses probably smaller than the closets. My little house was built in 1949 and the closet doors are no wider than me. I call it my hobbit house. The ceilings are low and even my short body and small hands can touch the top of the arched doorways. It was not built for storage and yet it raised a family of six and gifted Christmas to grandchildren until my purchase two years ago.

I sat down in the rocker and listened to the squeak of its old wooden frame. I watched a huge flock of geese pass by the window. I noticed a new tiny growth at the base of an orchid. A cloud rested from its journey upon a mountain. I heard the birds gather on the roof awaiting their seed. I heard the echoes of laughter from children to see wrapped gifts strewn throughout the house – no place to hide from curious and wondering eyes. My heart stirred to hear the chorus “fall on your knees” from the song O Holy Night playing on the CD.

Christmas is about joy. The knock your socks off experience that shatters any and all illusions of hopelessness.  The crumbling of all pretense and doubt that sends you to your knees in wonder, awe, and joy. It is not about storage and accumulation. It is not about what surrounds or does not surround you. It is taking your seat upon the cushion of your heart and shaking with laughter and tears of joy as you feel the smallness and walls of life explode in love. It is the joy of transformation such that you will never be the same even after the calendar has turned.

I’ve warmed the rocker…you’re welcome to come and take your seat. 

Opening Christmas # 7- Need

On this day 7 of opening Christmas I had to brave the big store to purchase a ladder. No matter the chair, even with books, I could not reach the repair. To my surprise the store was almost empty. Empty of people that is.. Each shelf was far from empty with this and that and that and this. I found myself thinking "Cool, I need that!" or "Wow! Never thought of that, yes, I must have!" I confess I stopped with my little cart and simply laughed out loud. Was it the colors? The wrappings? The Christmas music playing? The newness? What in the world drew my attention to "have" and "should" and "need"?

I left with naught but my ladder and stopped to ponder with nature the lure, the attraction, the surprised feeling of "need." And then to see nature's display. Is the winter shrub holding the rocks? Or are the rocks supporting winter's frail shrub? So little dirt the roots are exposed and yet this summer it thrived. Leaving a handful of corn meal blessing upon the roots and rocks, I gave thanks for need. I gave thanks for simple needs which causes even the angels to sing.

Making an Entrance

With every doorway I pass through and every thought I enter the sacred. With every breath the newborn cry of life emerging anew. Simple, simple touches. As Rumi said, "Don't go back to sleep."

Open Doors

Some on this day will be alone midst a gathering of family and friends. Others will be immersed in love and joy. Others like me will be immersed with none but ourselves and love filled hearts.  A day celebrated in the U.S. for giving thanks. Hopefully, one day soon needing no reminder. May we learn to awaken each morning, open the doors and say “Thank you Life! Thank you Love! The door is always open. Come in my Friend and let us give thanks.”

To all so kind to pause here, blessings and thanks given for you. Off to nature where a corn meal blessing among the mountains, snow, and migrating geese will be offered. Be well my friends. And may you know the joy of thanks.

Nested Feast

Sometimes the whispers and lessons so simple and clear.  I, with such a small but growing heart, experience and know such joy clearing snow to feed the birds.... What must the Heart that created mine, in boundless perfection, experience when I dare to take flight and come to feast?

Fullness Beyond the Lens

And what picture would or could I dare to use?

This day. 

This minute. 

This second. 

This moment. 

This breath. 

Tis all there is. 

And yet it is filled with the vast infinity of life.

Uncollected Abundance Held

To see them side by side and giggle at my squeal and startled breath within. My hands instinctively moved down to gather the precious gifts. Instead, my fingers simply stroked. The whispered smile that the path is about shedding not collecting. To think how quiet and peaceful the world might be if the noise of collecting fell as silent as the feathers. In absolute abundance I walked away.

Pauperless AbunDANCE

 Paying a bill and simultaneously sending a bit of money to a friend, a sigh of wishing I could do more. Suddenly the sun exploded over the mountains and trees, literally blinding my eyes with light. Turning to reach for my "sun" hat, the sun danced with my hanging prism and created a rainbow upon feathers I've found. I burst into laughter and awe filled abuDANCE. To those I know, calling them by name, to those like you who kindly read these words, I began to offer such blessings and gifts. The joy of the sun burst, laughing prism'd feathers, the peace of rainbow streamers, the sound of birds hovering to feed, the elegance of a single cloud dancing, a diva no doubt, the unburdened trees dancing, the anticipation of a little dog sitting by the door knowing its time to walk. My heart exploded, I could not name the names nor the gifts fast enough. To you, and you, and you and all. I felt the wealth of opening my burlap sack and gold coins spilled all over the table, clinking and spinning on the floor.  You, my friends, and all, open wide your arms, you may need help, a buffet of gifts are lavished upon you! Perhaps that is the essence of mindfulness.... you learn to see, so you can give away. No one a pauper....receive...receive.

Circle Complete

Sunrise we look to the east. Sunset we look to the west. Sometimes I too find myself looking for the splash and flash throughout the day. Instead, to see the whole circle touched. A dawn’s gaze to the south that does not disappoint. And to know neither will the views of myself, others, and the day’s events. I just have to turn my gaze and see the circle, complete.

Unlimited Quantities

The morning and the day, a blank piece of paper and dancing shadows. The joy, the simple childlike innocent joy of knowing it awaits my mark. But oh, sweet mercy, the giggled anticipation of knowing at the end of the day, I get to re-open and savor each mark made. The marking, the re-seeing, and then the letting go. Not to worry! Not limited to just one sheet.

Gift Surrendered

I had an email from a friend who started with "thank god it's Friday " Made me think of how often we live our lives for the days between the "Fridays" and "Mondays." Giggle. the hobbit is a dork, if you figure a life of 80 years, that's 4,160 weeks or 29,200 days. If I only live healthy, alive, present, happy for those "Fridays" "Saturdays" and "Sundays" that only gives me 12,480 days of "life" for the bodymindsoul. I keep 42% of my gift of bodymindsoul and surrender to work, others, or whatever the other 58% of the gift. And then to think of prayers made for abundance.

Taking the Loaf

Trying to leave bread crumbs for this path I travel. This morning no loaf to shed a crumb. Gazing out the window, the sky was canvassed with blue sky, white wispy clouds, black and gray and the sun bursting through them all. I laughed. Today no single bread crumb. Why choose? The day offers all. Thank you Life, I shall take the entire loaf before me! A hummingbird joined my giggle.

Lost Found

I tried to ponder loss. Does the absence of one drop really change the ocean? Does loss mean something no longer exists? I pondered those loved now lost. I pondered the words from hospice, “Do not say she is dying. She is no different than you standing there instead of lying in the bed.” I pondered these failing eyes that struggle to read the words typed. This and that, no longer here. Lost? Gone? Are there no longer hearts that love and are loved by another? Are there no longer eyes that can read? Is there no longer this and that? Is loss like the new moon, so black but it is only her position that makes her light lost? Is loss the absence of mine and the shape, form and time I desire, perhaps demand? 

It is not acceptance. It is not release. I can still grieve; I can still feel the absence. But, as I laugh my heart begins to sing as it feels the love of 7 billion hearts and the changeless Heart of the One. I laugh to see through 14 billion eyes and the changeless eyes of the One. I experience the this and that through all and All. Maybe your heart? Maybe your eyes? Who knows the abundance is so grand. And should you need strong legs to walk the mountains, know there are two good ones here, laughing, and offering you their joy. And should you giggle for some unknown reason, giggle again to think another has laughed through you.

Response

I think of the slights that wound our hearts. A careless word. A deed unnoticed. A call or request not returned. The back of someone when you so needed their face. The inattentiveness and invisibility felt. 

And then to ponder, this morning, when my eyes opened and all, all of life opened its arms and said "I am yours little one!" To ponder .... how did I respond?

Life delicious

R - ritual. After an illness, I am having to re-train my body to eat...and giggle, at almost 59, I soooo do not know how to cook, but alas, that is another story. I have discovered oranges. My orange has become a treat. The explosion of juice, the dribbling down my fingers and chin, the juice, the freshness and drink it offers has delighted my soul and body these last two weeks. Eating my orange has become a ritual. A joy I look forward to like the fox and the Little Prince...I have been tamed. As I peeled one slice of the orange, and giggled to feel it squirt my face, I thought I noticed something but could not identify. By the second slice I could see. My eyes were, without awareness, looking at how many slices were left, three....two...and then one. As I ate the orange and delighted in each bite, my eyes were looking with a mix of fondness and yearning at the last slice when the explosion of fresh and juice would be over. 

I have always walked to the rhythm of the seasons. My age is equated to the seasons (232 1/3). The R of Ritual, the grace of nature today shall be to notice the deliciousness of Life that unfold. To be cognizant and aware of the squirts and dribbles, the rhythm and juice. To approach each moment with the ritual of my little orange.... and a soft eye always upon the slices yet to be knowing in Nature, there is no count down. Nature counts forward...always fresh. The R of Ritual and the delicious  freshness of Life. 

May all your chins dribble today with Life.