You are the sky. Everything else is just the weather.
Deep down in the human spirit, there is a reservoir of courage.
It is always available, always waiting to be discovered.
Just where you are; that’s the place to start.
-Pema Chödrön
Tag: therapy
mindful moment
“I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair
I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see
For still there are so many things
That I have never seen
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green
I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago
And people that will see a world
That I shall never know
But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door”
―
melissa: a time for everything
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot abut time, and the passing of time. Whether it’s the best of times, or the worst of times (as it can feel lately), it is the only time we have. As the pandemic continues on, so does our emotional marathon of resilience. We try and balance looking ahead (where is that light at the end of the tunnel?!), while also being mindful of the present moment (the sun is shining in this very moment and it’s lovely). It’s a rollercoaster right now, to be sure, and this poem reminds us that there is a time for everything. Stay strong.
“There is a time for being ahead,
a time for being behind;
a time for being in motion,
a time for being at rest;
a time for being vigorous,
a time for being exhausted;
a time for being safe,
a time for being in danger.
The Master sees things as they are, without trying to control them. She lets them go their own way, and resides at the center of the circle.”
– Lao Tzu
melissa: monotonous
I wouldn’t use the word boredom. I would use the word monotonous.
While we do remain curious, there is a drying up of the well of wonders. It’s not as though we are no longer curious. In fact, I think we find ourselves quite curious. Curious about the fate of the world in general, among so many other small thoughts lingering in the corners of our minds. We remain curious, but the well of rarities we can actually touch is drying up a bit.
Looking down into that well, there isn’t much to look at, even way down there. There are likely a few drops that haven’t yet fully caught the rays of sunshine that slowly radiate on down the well walls. So, we cannot quite see those droplets. I think we all assume they are there. They probably are. And we all know, believe, hope, that the well will one day fill up to the brim again and we will again be able to quench our thirst for fresh, new rarities in our lives.
In the meantime, we are all hanging out by that well. Thirsty, tired, restless, and weary. It’s the same view every day- day in and day out. Another day, starring you, and….well, you. Staring out the window, down the well, out into your yard, thinking of all the splendor you had before, right at your fingertips. You could grasp those marvels and reach for them all day, every day. You could drink from that well until you were so full and content, you were exhausted from all of your new experiences and the wonders around you.
These days, we look for the wonders that are now dulled out, but used to be shiny. We grab some polish, and attempt to make them new and glisten once more. Our wells are dry, but there remain wonders around us. Every day, it’s too easy, to reach for the old list of monotonous tasks. So, instead, we challenge ourselves to glitter up the old tasks, a few times per day, in search of a treasure…a curiosity of sorts.
This evening, my daughter and I were running around the same four walls we usually hang out in before we begin the bedtime routine. Suddenly, she stopped moving and I saw her hand reach out into the air. She had found a ray of sunshine, beaming through the window, shining onto her tiny hand. She was intrigued, and deeply curious. I reached my hand up into the air, and we both shared in that ray of light together. I would have missed the tiny ray of light, if not for her own curiosity slowing us down for a moment. Promptly after this treasure of a moment, she reached for my cell phone, which I tried to, not so smoothly, sneak back into my pocket. A meltdown ensued, of course, because we always want those shiny things we can’t quite have in this moment.
Even though the well has all but dried up, I actually see her well is quite full. And thus, the monotonous became slightly shiny again, for a few lovely moments.
This is what we do now.
Stay thirsty out there. That well has a few drops left. And it will one day be full again. We will delight and smile at all the wonders we had been longing for in our monotony. In the meantime, shine up everything you can find that has a layer of dust on it.