A thread of hot chocolate and a splash of yellow

And sometimes when I ponder that teachings and inner knowing that I am here, by choice, to create, to discern the vibrations that create and change myself, the earth, and others it is almost too much for me to comprehend.  Then to think that as I learn, discern and create I am likewise expanding and enhancing All that is, sweet mercy, my little heart explodes.

As I was so pondering, and the winter clouds struggled to breach the mountains, how my thoughts, my vibrations, my energy creates and changes, draws and manifests, I stood at the window holding my cup of hot chocolate. There on the feeder was a bird never seen. A beautiful midnight black bird with one splash of yellow on its wing. I smiled in wonder and awe and whispered, "How my friend did you find my little feeder?"  And my pondering heart giggled and the Universe smiled.

Falling Movement

Thich Nhat Hanh observed that we only call rain, "rain" because it is falling and wind, "wind" because it is blowing. That led my simple brain to ponder the thread, that we have names for waves, rain and wind but think how different the words can be.  At night the sound of crashing waves or rain can lull you to sleep. The same sounds terrifying to one lost at sea or in the mountains.  And to ponder, is not nature's breath, the wind, always present, but we only give it a name when it moves? Is not her life sustaining moisture always present but we only give it a name when it falls?  And are not the waves, rain and wind the same but we call them storms when we think them strong?  And when your day is planned outdoors, a "nice" day means no rain but to a farmer looking at his parched fields, a "nice" perhaps even miraculous, day would be for the rain to fall.  And finally, all the words we use have movement - rain, wind, waves, stormy.  But a day of non-movement, stillness, blue skies and calm, we simply call 'nice' yet the movement of life is still there. 

And so, I leave my simple thread, to know the buffeting storms against my heart as nothing more than movement.  Movement, without which life ceases to exist. Like the moisture in the air and natures breath, the pain is simply falling.