No I don’t mind
if I don’t see you in the morning
and don’t hear from you at night.
I said I don’t mind
because I know just who I am
and I know I’ll be just fine.
Now don’t think I won’t miss you boy
and seeing that sweet face.
We’ve got red hot memories
strewn all over the place.
But if now is not our time
well, who am I to fight?
No, I don’t mind.
I’ll be just fine.
The other day, I sat quietly by a stream watching the water flow, birds taking dips, and tiny fish swimming together. The beauty of it all was breathtaking. Nothing about the scene at the stream was rushed, forced, or controlled. It just was.
If God can make this tiny stream and the life surrounding it flow so effortlessly while simultaneously pointing back to His own beauty and perfection, can’t I assume He is doing the same in my own life?
That’s when it occurred to me.
If we could truly grasp God’s love for us, all of our prayers would be praise.
Greet everyone you meet with a warm smile, no matter how busy you are.
Don’t rush encounters with coworkers, family and friends.
Speak softly. Listen attentively.
Act as if every conversation you have is the most important thing on your mind today.
Look your children and your partner in the eyes when they talk to you.
Stroke the cat, caress the dog.
Lavish love on every living being you meet.
See how different you feel at the end of the day.
~ Sarah Ban Breathnach
When we’re young, the world is our oyster.
Hurt and humiliation are two things we don’t fear.
Imagination is our kingdom and every moment counts.
Ah yes, when we’re young, creativity abounds.
As we grow up they say, “Fall in line!
Get good grades! Be on time!
Find a job! Pay your bills!”
All things that stifle creative wills.
When we’re young, our sense of presence lasts.
There’s no anxiety about the future. No dwelling in the past.
It’s this innate presence that lets our creative juices flow
but we block it and build dams around it every year we grow.
Now I can hear the sound, traveling through your eyes
of broken dreams and emptiness
as your inner child cries,
“Gimme ink and paper, crayons, brushes, and blank space.
Gimme songs to sing and lightening bugs to chase.
Gimme wood to carve, clay to mold, and games to play.
I’m jumpy and I’m restless. Can I come out today?”
A milk has gone bad, throw it away.
Your tires are flat, switch them up.
No need to complain or make sense of these things
All that you’ve done is enough.
A lover has left, let them go free.
Wages were lost, look for more.
No need to dwell or make sense of these things
Resistance can be quite the bore.
Surrender to what is,
then do what you can.
There’s no need to ask,
“Why must this occur?”
For all that you need
is right where you stand.
And you can’t fathom Ways
that are higher than yours.
I avoid writing like I would the plague.
I know once I start I can’t stop.
And all I want is a nice movie playing
But conduits are conduits, like it or not.
Am I making any sense to you?
Or am I writing for myself again?
Maybe if I just press this remote…
I’ll find a show to distract myself
And once I stop struggling, I float.
I’m an over achiever and a go getter. There’s a frantic, nitpicky air coursing through most of what I do. When I lived in Los Angeles, I shared an apartment with a wonderful free spirit. We contrasted well with her calming, almost floating presence.
I’ll never forget when she turned to me one day and asked, in her innocent, purely curiosity driven way, “What are you going to do when you’ve done it all?”
At the time, her question bounced right off me. Back then, fresh out of college, the only beatings I endured were from myself and generally, I saw no limits to what I could achieve.
Ironically (though probably not), she was the very person with me 2.5 years ago, when my world came crashing down around me. And although we no longer live together in Los Angeles, her question has haunted me throughout the years.
Today, 29 months and numerous universe inflicted battle wounds later, her words ring more powerful than ever.
While I’m still an over achiever and go getter, I now understand and appreciate the gifts of grace and presence, agents of change that my former LA roommate wisely knew all along.
“It is possible to move through the drama of our lives without believing so earnestly in the character that we play.” – Pema Chodron, The Places that Scare You
“The tragedy of experiencing ourselves as apart from everyone else is that this delusion becomes a prison.” -Albert Einstein