Whispered Touch

The journey still incomplete. Ten minutes from landing, the plane had to return to where we boarded. The weather would not permit us to land. Perhaps it is fitting that instead of being home tomorrow, when I celebrate six decades upon this earth, I shall be in airports, planes, and a two hour drive home...if we land. I confess my shoulders fell and a few tears ran down my cheeks when the pilot informed us.

Standing in awe at the tree in front of an unexpected hotel layover, I noticed the leaves. Even more amazing the wispy white roots of the tree. Life. Signs of winter, fall, and even spring. Wispy roots reaching out to touch the sun while others are buried deep within the earth. Arrivals can be departures. Departures can be arrivals. Turn arounds can be a wide open roadway. Layovers can be a bountiful buffet of stillness and new sights. To seek the path of a life alive and open heart is not to expect all detours to vanish all obstacles to disappear. It is simply to see the colors and rhythm, and even the roots of a might oak peaking out and whisper, "All is well. All is well." And so it is. Sweet mercy it is.

Rock Music

The river's sound can calm any heart. But it is the rocks, ice, and tree limbs the water must move over, under, and around that creates the song. Still water is silent. The song is written in the notes of obstacles.

Leap Day

So many wise ones have written about life as taking a leap of faith, going for it, and trusting. The hero’s and heroine’s journey is one of facing the obstacles, the mazes, and dragons. We leap alone, not clinging to others or things, nor do we push or force others to join our leap. It is a journey we make alone, leaping into the unknown…much like the way we entered this world. And if that inaugural journey, that first leap is what we now celebrate as our Birthday, then every leap we make is but another! I’m not getting older….I’m being born over and over every moment, breath, and emotion!  And so to all, may I offer a heartfelt giggle and wish you – Happy Leap Day!

Mountain paths

The paths of the mountains weave and turn flowing upward like the rivers down to nurture the mesas. The rhythm of Life.  Setting the dream, the intent surrenders the how.  I only have to continue the path. The best trees and beauty are often found on the unplanned paths of nature. What will BE, what IS, remains unbound by time, calendars and unforeseen events. Love is boundless. I choose Love. I choose Flow worrying not about the path.

There is no such thing as being blindsided, disruptions, detours, nor denial. They are simply whispers to look around and discover the unseen flower, tree or the reflection of the sun streaming through the dense forest or mountain path. A gentle whisper...."Here." Choose Love. Choose Life. Choose abundance. Choose Laughter. Sweet mercy, choose to See.

Bookmark

And if I truly believe that nature teaches me…what is the lesson these weak eyes see?  Clouds and a mountain.  In life, they are often symbols of that which either darkens and hides my path or makes the journey seem impassable. The clouds are hovered round the mountain peak. Obstacle upon obstacle?  “No,” I whisper, both an affirmation and confessed plea.  For cheering them on are waving spectators of spring and patches of blue. Do I not also see the caress, the embrace of softness around that so hardened?  Do I not also see the surrender of strength to that so ephemeral?  Maybe I have been guilty of mixed metaphors.  When clouds seem so heavy and I cannot find my way, maybe instead of an obstacle, life has gathered my hardened fear into her embrace.  Maybe when the mountains seem so steep for my weakened body and faith, instead of weakened maybe they are reaching towards the solid certainty of life’s embrace.  Darnit, I don’t know.  I was  just walking and something made me pause and look.  I think it is important, and leave the bookmark here.  No matter, really, a moment of beauty, a wink of grace.