Everything I own is temporary
Brilliant ideas, coveted objects
Valued relationships, my very personhood
Nothing protected from an unseen hand
Wiping clean my slate
Upending familiar ground upon which I tread
Tinkering with a fragile sense of self
While I sleep
Walk
Through days chock full of importance
Despite every grand effort to trick
That which I want and need
So very much
to remain true, steadfastly loyal
Cemented into certainty
Everything flickers and grows feeble
Snuffed out like a flame
Abruptly squeezed by meaty fingers
Or barely noticed, fading like dusk
Soundlessly swallowed whole by night
In stillness I stand
On solid ground amidst shifting sands
Sheltered beneath a canopy so green
Glistening with cascading rain
Softly nourishing gardens and lawns
Quiet companion on a leash
Three smiling men riding a single lawn mower
An amusement park of movement and stillness
Revealing the script behind the play
Written in vanishing ink
Life in every form is meant to be lived
Not there
Far in the future dressed in a different garment
Bright, beautiful and pleasing to the i
But here
Looking as it is right now
Not well put together
Yet perfectly arranged
Shifting awareness emboldened
By a dog unburdened by a broken foot
Gracefully releasing the chase of
Every wiry squirrel
Content to sniff the winds of change
Black and white fur dancing
With pink petals, water and breeze
Untroubled by the sun’s game of hiding
Vigilantly at rest, no need to seek
Eyes meet in silent acquiescence
Hands splayed open
Grasping not one thing
I treasure that which cleans my slate
And welcome the dusk that robs my light
I pray then and there to the witness within
Let this softening of my body
Sing a gentle lullaby to my mind’s desire
To know, to strive, to do, to become
So I may instead honor this temporary breeze
And perfection of these trees
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Creativity is inherent to human development and essential to discovery of the wonder of the world. Anyone who has every witnessed an infant discover her toes or attended a high school art show has done their research. The question for you is not whether you are creative, rather how are you expressing your creativity. By choosing different ways to express yourself and your view of the world, you enhance new neural learning, hone observational skill, and let a wee bit of your genius flow out to the world. The more you create, the more you translate the world according to you for the rest of us to enjoy. Forget about being good at anything. Create as an experiment, for the sheer joy of it, or to enhance wellbeing.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
Life is stressful. Always.
If you pause for a moment, you’ll see there is always something stressful happening. It might be mild, like when you’re running a bit late for an appointment. Or significant, like dealing with a major loss or facing a radical change in your life. If there’s a weather disaster, a country in disarray, or a threat to your livelihood, the stress meter goes way up.
One cool Spring morning, I stepped on the treadmill at the gym looking forward to walking a few miles. Recovering from an injury, I had to walk at a moderate pace so I had brought my copy of What Is Enlightenment? magazine to explore. I always found something to inspire me within this publication focused upon consciousness, culture, and cosmos.
Stress is a natural experience in life. It’s often viewed as a doorway to disruption of wellbeing, peace of mind, and a clear navigational path in a challenging situation.
I’m a bit of a news hound these days. As one who hasn’t watched a newscast in years, I’m surprising myself. Ordinarily, I wait for the news to come to me. And it does. When something is important for me to know or respond to, I hear about it. Kind friends, clients, my husband, or a random stranger share a soundbite which cues me to look into a situation further. I’ve been very comfortable with this level of engagement for years now.
In the midst of our country’s woes, I’ve got Lucinda Williams singing in my head.
“You can’t rule me
you wanna go and tell me what’s good for me
you wanna tell me what I’m payin’ for
Well, the game is fixed, it’s plain to see
I ain’t playin’ no more”
I drove through a hail storm today. It began gently, offering a musical accompaniment to my journey. Intensifying, the hail noisily demanded my attention.
