Goggle'd Mind

The morning meditation burst into laughter. I realized my mind had gone Google on me and was returning 10,000+ thoughts and memories in 3.7 seconds. In my laughter I heard a sound. With a smile I shut the mind's browser down and listened to the birds.

Passing Through

I am a snob! Oh the realization was horrific and my little heart sunk. I who treasure my tender open little heart stood face to face with the realization. It was not kind.

The morning shower was too hot. A brisk recognition and then I simply turned the knob. My shirt was turned wrong side out. I giggled to notice and turned it right side out. My little dog had run off with my socks. I laughed to play tag and saw her eyes sparkle with joy.  I came into the den and thought it dark. The power was out. My longed for coffee had not brewed nor was the internet available. I muttered and harumpf’d to think this the start of my day. The power returned with an email that sucked the remaining non-harumpf’d breath out. That was when I realized I am a snob.

I had placed life’s challenges in a hierarchy – worthy and unworthy of mindfulness, worthy and unworthy of my open precious little heart. Was not each one worthy of my heart’s greeting? Was not each challenge worthy of my attention and desire to learn? Does not each one create trust and openness for all challenges to come? I pondered my cringe when I see others negate the worth of other people. Do not the challenges, lessons, and speed bumps of life deserve to be welcomed with equanimity and grace? For if I cannot embrace and welcome them, could my heart truly open and embrace the lives of others who in truth, are but lessons of the same? Are not both just passing through?

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."

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.

Scissored Wings

With fondness the image returned of my little marionettes I had as a child. I vividly recalled asking them if they would like me to pull their strings so they could dance. Then the mind shifted to Peter Pan and the magic and awe of childlike wonder...learning I too can fly. Perhaps only a sign of my age to recall such stories. But this morning, this day, old or not, may I find the middle path between the two. To honor myself and not allow either myself or others to create strings and make me jump, like a gunfighter shooting at my feet shouting “Dance!” Nor can I avoid the honoring of myself and others by escaping and leaving my heart’s contracts and service undone. To recall how love and truth released Pinocchio from his strings and Peter Pan's eternal flame of dreams. This day, may I touch myself and all others with Love’s scissored wings and fill the sky with hearts of joy, wonder, compassioned truth and Now.

Rattling Songs

A walk by the lake to clear my fuzzy brain and weary eyes. The wind swirling and thoughts pondering how perception actually creates what we see. I thought it was a stick. My little dog ran to the end of her leash ready to retrieve. The stick transformed and rattled its tail. Yes, with panic, I reeled my little dog sending her legs flying in the air.

Have pondered that sound I can still hear and how I have always wandered the lake, canyon and mountain paths without concern. An error that could have been quite costly. The rattling sound still dances in my mind but has transformed it into a song. No judgement. No fear. No veil of threat to shroud my walks. I will be mindful - lesson learned. But my heart releases. The rattler was actually quite beautiful and moved on. And so must I. Letting go of all mistakes and seeing their beauty, their rattles are but a song.

Can Do

I can enumerate the aches, pains, burdens and to do's. I can wax poetic upon the should've, could've, wish'd and maybe's. I can cover my eyes to shade the sun. Even close the blinds and turn on the AC to submit the warmth. I could... But the only reality, the only, the only thing that will enact change is the creativity of saying 'yes' to this moment right now. La Chaim! Amen, so be it. En Garde! And so it IS.

This Moment...I Am

Holding the mala beads in my hands I begin to chant Aham Prema – I am love. It occurs to me that my awareness is only on the mala bead of the current chant. I am not aware of the beads that have already been chanted and moved. I am unaware of the beads yet to be touched. My awareness is focused only on that one bead. My fingers rise with its shape. My fingers fall gently in between that bead and the next. The bead is moved and my attention now is on the bead I am chanting.

I can think of probably more than 108 reasons why I do not think of myself as being love. But for this one moment, this one chant, this present breath with no others guaranteed, this single bead, I am love. And for this day, Aham Prema, one breath, one bead, only this breath, only this bead.

Thorns and souls

Quietly I ponder the difference between the thorns of a rose bush and those of a cactus. You know how quickly the delicate petals of a rose fall to the ground.  Once opened so quickly they drop.  The thorns of a rose bush point downward, as if to point to their gentle loss and beauty so brief.  The cactus with its long defiant thorns point upwards. The cactus thorns point upward defying anyone or anything to touch either the gentle bloom or their petals which hold the precious water.  Rose bushes require tending and depend upon the rains of life to sustain them, and they grow into full bushes.  The cactus has learned to survive in drought, heat and hardened waterless earth, so often in a solitary stance.

Perhaps the rose offers such a lasting sweet fragrance, wide long arms, and downward pointing thorns, to remind us how precious and sweet, yet brief, life can be.  That we must tend, water and prune, yet, even with the tending, the delicate petals will fall.  Acceptance. The cactus in drought, with its oasis of water filled green petals and upward pointing thorns, remind us to look upward and mindful of where we walk but fearing not the heated hardened earth and drought nor the quite solitude of presence, life is green and even dryness yields a flower. Faithfulness.

To walk mindfully knowing both the brevity and steadfastness of Life. To walk mindfully seeing both the upward thorns of the cactus and the fallen petals of the rose.  To look upward towards the sun of Life that sometimes feels as if it is baking and drying up our souls, and yet we see the blooms and our thirst is quenched.  And, with a giggle and smile, should we lose our walk lose its mindfulness, Life sends a sharp poke through our "soles" to bring us back to attention.  

Mindfulness without the "but"

I run hot water into the metal coffee thermos so the fresh coffee will be hot.  I do not put more than one filter in the basket, out of greed or fear of grounds.  Nor do I tear the filter into a little piece in fear I will run out and must make each one last in case there are no more.  I press the On button with no thought that the coffee may not be there.  I pour the coffee into the cup and doubt not that the cup will accept the pouring.  Mindfulness with a but….

Sweet Hands of Life, if I fear not scarcity, lack, and release all doubt with my morning coffee…help me to brew and pour this day in the same way.

Buddha laughing

The morning walk around the park lake.  The little iPod shuffling through soft music.  As I bent my body to encourage my knees to go up the slight incline, the shuffle embraced the Buddhist chant Om Mani Padme Hum (“Precious Jewel, Awakened Heart”) and Fisher’s Peak appeared on the horizon.  More breathless from the music and mountain, I paused to breathe the gifts.  Who could not join with the chant and sing aloud?  And so I continued walking, singing out loud to the mountain, the lake and to the trees, my heart renewing my knees with a tiny tiny little swagger.

As I approached the group of men walking, I continued to sing.  I did not want to silence my heart.  Still singing I bowed my head and we exchanged smiles.  And then I tripped over a rock.  I heard a giggle.  I assumed it was theirs.  Perhaps not, I mused, as I visualized the statue of Buddha laughing.  Mindfulness.