Surrender without conquer

The hour and then the morning passed by unspoken. No need to speak, we knew what would be done. At the peak of the day’s heat, the house already stifled, I set out for my walk. No cool morning air upon my skin. A cloudless sun filled sky greeted my already weakened body.

Strength against strength. Will against will. There will be no victor no conquered. One can be neither a warrior nor a lover only in the cool of the morning when life is comfortable.  Sometimes one has to strike a surrendered determined stance of strength for strength and will for will. And with a tympani pounding beneath each temple, the sweat painting my back like an Etch-A-Sketch, the hill that is my reward at the end of the walk, and the sun eye to eye with my own, we each whispered ‘Namaste.’

 A crow began cawing loudly over my head as I bowed. And with my bow, next to my feet, Life added, “Well done.”

Invitation

I must go and remove all the seed from the ground and feeders. The store was out of sunflower seed and I had to buy a mix with berries and fruits. The ants have discovered the banquet and the birds and squirrels can no longer eat. Last night sweltered in the oppressive heat, no air conditioning to cool the body, my head exploded as I tried to make eyes that cannot see, read about ways to display my feathers. I have images but there will be no other hands to do what mine cannot, but I will get what I see. I hung some of my photographs, that make me smile and feel the sacredness of being, in plastic sheet protectors, taking several hours trying to hammer or hold a tiny nail with a hand that will not grasp. I laughed to feel my mother’s shame of not having picture frames.

A litany of ‘have not’ and ‘cannot’? No, each one is an invitation. With a hand that tremors I extend my list to you. The invitation is that your open hand extends yours to me.  Take not my list and withhold your own. Nor will I take yours and in silence keep mine.  It is the exchange, the invitation and offering that heals. Oh yes, the ants may still be there, the feathers remain undisplayed, but the invitation, the offering and acceptance is what transforms the have not and cannot into Life itself. That is the beauty of the souls walking together upon this sweet earth.  Together….to gather. 

In Lak'ech - you are my other me.

Touch the water and rise

I remember my one and only experience gliding across the waves in a small sail boat.  I wondered how we could possibly get to where we were going when the wind was blowing straight on and against us. How could a sail gather the wind and glide us to where we wanted to be? 


A morning memory that led me back to this image and a smile. I remember how my friend stared into the sun, never a bad word was said, never a doubt. Only eyes fixed and his hand upon the wooden lever that turned the single sail. We glided with the wind blowing in the wrong direction yet sailing us to where we wanted to be.


Maybe to get to where I want to be, though the winds blow hard against me, I just need to let my feet touch the water and lift my wings to the wind...and rise.
Belief.