day eleven: 27 days of gratitude

When I began this post I wanted to write about faith, but faith implies a belief that doesn't rest on proof, it's the evidence of things unseen. When the road ahead is shrouded with a heavy mist of unknowing, I want a faith rooted in experience. Our busy minds tell us all manner of horror stories, could-be scenerios, terrifying possibilities and the like. On this very hike, photographed above, my mind piped up with all manner of tid bits about hungry mountain lions lurking in the tall grassland nearby, shrouded in cloud and intent on a sinewy meal. Minds do that. They have accepted the unfortunate dictate to keep us safe and free from pain. Which is of course an impossibility and an utter waste of 99.9% of our time. If I really examine the bumps and pitfalls of my life I can see that within them were great gifts, sometimes requiring a great deal of perspective, time and vantage to appreciate them. Today I am grateful for faith and its foundation in trust (confidence and reliance on things unseen). The mind can rest, however briefly, in the strength of experience with the things unseen, like winter landscapes that look bleak and lifeless but are already nursing the new life to come.

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FORGET ABOUT ‘HEALING’

Some days, you just have to forget about ‘healing’. You have to stop trying to feel better, trying to overcome your emotional wounds, or trying to be anywhere other than where you are. You have to embrace the day as it is. And you have to give yourself the most sacred permission of all: To shatter. To break. To be an ugly mess. To lean into a place of utter humility and powerlessness in yourself. To cry out to the heavens, “I can’t do this!” To admit utter defeat in the loss of the life you had imagined. To crumble to the ground, lonely and hopeless and profoundly ruined. To want to die, even. And there, in the darkest places, in the blackness of the underworld, you may begin to rediscover... life. And learn to love the beginnings. A sacred reboot: A single breath. The way the sun warms your face. The sound of a tiny bird singing in the tree over there. The raw simplicity of a single moment of human existence. Hell has been transmuted, thr...

a story recently shared by a friend

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love. Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment. When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help. Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, "Richness, can you take me with you?" Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you." Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!" "I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered. Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you." "Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself...

He is no longer here

Another day has begun. I have lit my candles and incense. Sat in silence. Worked up a sweat at the gym. Eaten breakfast. Straightened house. Answered mail and dropped my man off at the airport. It is eight in the morning and the world stirs with wakefulness. The sun climbs in the sky. The birds sing. The squirrels chip and chur in tree branches. A dog barks. And I look with dull eyes at the long day ahead, contemplating a single phrase, "My father is dead." What strange words. My father is dead. The man has been leaving for as long as I can remember and yet his death robs the wind from my lungs. My chest throbs and throat tightens. He isn't coming back. My mom and dad had slipped out of one another's lives before I'd barely begun mine. Two weekends a month my brothers and I stood on a saggy porch, bags packed, eager for our hero to arrive in his old blue Ford to pick us up. We vibrated with hope...

angelbirdflies

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