Wake of Love

Like a glass mirror'd lake and ducks, to think my movement upon this earth leaves a similar wake. May my movements, like these, leave all in breathless beauty and stillness.

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.

Penned Path

I suppose it is an inherent desire in all of us to be writers. We all long to re-write in some way our script of growing up. Today, on the anniversary of my father's passing, my mother having left this life earlier, I realize I have, at last, laid down the pen. Life's sun and weathering have gifted the sight of reflection. No need even to write "The End." Life continues, as do I, though no longer a role of daughter. There are some sunrises I wish the mountains would move and let me see. Some days the clouds are just to playful for my camera to see. And there are days when I am left breathless in awe of the wonder of life. The pen, laid down, opens both heart and eyes. I miss you Mama. I miss you Daddy. I bow in gratitude for the path that was penned.

Final Sacrifice

On this day of remembrance, in the U.S. and Canada, for those who have served in war, I bow in gratitude for all who have and currently sacrifice so much. And then to bow again in compassion and faith, that one day soon, we will all be veterans celebrating. Warriors of Love and heart. Warriors whose only required sacrifice was to lay down the swords.

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.

Simply Rise Simply Try

To practice acceptance of all circumstances, feelings, people, and events with compassion and without judgment, not forgetting it applies to the self. My heart sighed to read such words. And then the gentle whisper, “Are they but a bumper sticker placed on your car? Or have you experienced them as both the car and fuel that carry you upon the path? Are the words but your hiking boots worn in the house?” Oh I may get lost in my car. I may get stuck in traffic jams. I have to wash, fuel, and maintain the car. I have to clean off the winter snow and ice so I can see. And I can put on my boots and perfectly lace each eyelet, tie the perfect knot and sit on the couch. The word is to practice, to experience, and to try. No mention of perfection or attainment. To slip inside the car or my boots and travel the path. Nike says “Just Do It.” The path, knowing I am human, says, “Get up and try.” The moon and sun never check the weather to see if conditions are favorable. They simply rise.

Waving Back

She skipped across the street to the corner where the school bus would stop. I see her every morning. Today, she turned back to the truck where her Dad was watching. She waved so vigorously her whole body swayed. Something was different. Then I saw she had a floppy stuffed animal in her hand and was waving it back and forth towards her Dad. Her smile was so big even my failing eyes could see. As the school bus approached, one last fierce wave and then she gently placed her floppy friend in her backpack, which looked way too heavy for her body. She was off to school where she would have to sit still, memorize, and be taught all the things society has decided are important. If by grace a moment to color, it would have to be done within the lines. But inside her backpack, a soft floppy but now still little reminder that she is still a child. A child of wonder, magic, laughter, joy, and such a huge smile of life and love. She’s growing up but she has a soft reminder of what counts. As the school bus drove away my arm and hand fell down into my lap. As did my own floppy stuffed animal that had been waving back.