And then I asked myself,
Why am I trying to hold it all together?
What if I let myself fall apart?
What if all the pieces fell,
and the wind blew some of them away,
and the rains washed others away,
and a broom swept still others away,
all that was left
were the pieces that mattered,
the pieces that couldn’t be
blown or washed or swept away…
And what if I took all those pieces
and began building myself again?
Or if some great mosaic artist found them
and created some new work of beauty?
I won’t know until I try.
Maybe I’ll let myself fall apart
and see what happens.
Give life a chance to surprise you.
Follow your own star,
see where it leads you.
Everything is not what you think it is.
Drop your awareness deeper,
beyond what you think you know,
into the realms of your heart
and your gut.
This deeper listening
will open you to a world
that was always there,
but wasn’t available to you
because of the fortress of thinking
you built around you
to give you ground
in a groundless, eternal
experience of being.
Let go of any notion
of control, of a fixed reality,
of how things should be.
You might just be amazed
the way that they are…
filling yourself up
with wonder, joy, and awe,
until you have no choice
but to live generously,
which is, in the end,
what living is all about.
I was caught in a story today,
a story about not being prepared enough,
organized enough, motivated enough,
not a good enough planner,
not thoughtful enough.
It was a story about being selfish,
wrapped up in my own interests…
not good enough.
And then the plant spirits called me outside.
The sun shone on me,
the breeze blew through me,
and I thrust my hands into the earth
again and again.
When I looked up,
there were beautiful plants
in all our pots and containers
and an hour had passed.
The anxiety was gone,
and so was the self-effacing self-talk.
Thank you Nature for saving me again.
You had no idea you were coming
and we certainly weren’t planning on it happening
But then there you were.
We met each other and suddenly I knew
everything I was waiting for had finally arrived.
You show me daily where I can grow,
how patience matters,
how a little love and encouragement
go a long way toward helping
the garden of your mind
grow beautiful blossoms,
open and pure and sweet.
Such tenderness I feel when I think of you
You remind me of all the things I forgot
in the frantic push to become an adult,
the responsible, professional, gainfully employed person
I thought I was supposed to be
(Why ever was I wanting that anyway?)
I had forgotten what it was like to just sit
and dig in the dirt with a little stick,
in a spot of lawn just by the sidewalk
curious about every little pebble
and bug and blade of grass.
I had forgotten–
but today you reminded me.
Dear child of mine, my heart overflows
when I witness the sweet innocence of your heart
And I laugh big belly laughs when you speak
and tell me in your four year old voice
“So, what is your plan?”
For once I don’t want to plan
I just want to sit and watch as you
grow into more of yourself,
as you discover the world through your own eyes
as you awaken to the stars shining
the moon glowing
the forests humming
the wind breezing
the ocean waving
and magic, everywhere magic
sweet baby of mine,