I enjoy my routines
The things I do day after day
That give me peace
Grant me space to be.
My routines allow me to travel
To that mountain top
Where I can observe my thoughts
Ponder my actions and just be.
I have quieted my inner judge
Though she is still there.
She’s observing and ready to
Remind me when I am off center.
When I first identified her,
She looked like a he and was huge,
Stern, arms crossed and imposing.
I was surprised by her presence.
Now I’ve come to know she is
There to help me be safe.
I call on her when I’m afraid
And with a breath she rises up
And stands in front of me
With a menacing stare and solid feel.
I am remembering to call for her
When I am lost and falling.
The black holes are familiar to me now.
My negative thoughts remind me of the
Pathways that lead me into a place of
Fear and worry.
My sore fingers are from
my frenzied habit of picking because
I am uneasy, unhooked from my center
And looking for my base.
I recognize my overeating is
Really when I’m crying inside
And not listening, blocking and
Ignoring my pain.
My uneasiness in my routines rise
When my routines no longer serve my purpose
As I am growing past their safe boundaries
And changing again into more of who I am.
I experience, grow and change.
I love, lose, heal and find love again.
I am my own remedy if I slow down to listen.
My breath steadies my path of life.
Sun says, “Be your own illumination.” Wren says, “Sing your heart out, all day long.” Stream says, “Do not stop for any obstacle.” Oak says, “When the wind blows, bend easily, and trust your roots to hold.” Stars say, “What you see is one small slice of a single modest galaxy. Remember that vastness cannot be grasped by mind.” Ant says, “Small does not mean powerless.” Silence says nothing. In the quiet, everything comes clear. I say, “Limitless.” I say, “Yes.”
Participants’ Reflections:
I was thinking of the little ant that you shared, how industrious they are. It’s okay to be a little ant and do one small part. With humility accept and know I can’t conquer all things, and I can be true to myself. Do my small part. That can be very powerful. The little ant is amazingly strong. I try to stay guided and be in touch with my still small voice that helps me be authentic.
I liked “I am my own remedy.” It’s so true except it’s a Total whole I that includes the divine spark within, while I’m supported by community. I am the one who does whatever the remedy is and there’s a lot of support around me.
As you said that, I thought I am my own worst enemy too. It’s a Paradox.
I was struck by both. I was even more struck with your talk about resistance to writing. I need to write a difficult letter and I’ve been putting it off. I’m going to do it just by starting.
Writing is hard. It’s coming from inside our hearts. That’s why we do drafts. I learned a long time ago we start from where we are and write whatever our thoughts are. Get them out on paper. I write what I’m hearing the critic say -- “I don’t know how to write.” “I don’t know what to say” Keep the pen moving.
I’ve studied writing for many years and learned the first draft is just the first draft. I have to tire the editor in me. Once the critic is tired out, then the writing can come through and it helps. I love the line in your piece “My breath steadies my path of life.” I just was so struck by that. I’m going to think about that all day. It’s such beautiful words and it really is true. If I keep breathing and I focus on my breath, everything around me will be okay.
When you said tire out the editor, we can tire out the anger as well and tire out the hurt by expressing the feelings on paper.
I couldn’t settle down. Instead I was thinking about all the things people say in this group. Somebody talked about resting in a flower petal or being blown in the wind, and so many others. I’m amazed by what people say here and what they think. I’m grateful for the wisdom, the honesty. I'm in awe. Today I found comfort listening to my cat lap water, and my other cat giving itself his morning bath. Sounds in the silence.
Perhaps one of the gifts of COVID is that we have become more honest with ourselves in speaking what really is in our hearts and our essence.
We have the time to feel it and we can’t afford to be dishonest because we can get hurt by our dishonesty. It’s a reckoning back to our inner home.
I am becoming conscious of the fact that I am bouncing back and forth between extremes, becoming more and more aware of the infiniteness, and that I crave something behind the infiniteness and still be in control. I don’t want to acknowledge we are all that, and it frightens me. It scares me.
Also talking of writing I joined a haiku challenge. It brings me back to that little place of what is within. I don’t know if anyone else has that experience of resisting.
Oh, yes, you’re not alone. I talk about this a lot because when I’m listening to a spiritual teacher who is talking about the infinite expansiveness, my mind starts putting it down, saying it’s useless – it’s my need to control and putting it down means I’ll stop listening and not experience the infinite. I know I have to stay with it. If I stop listening to it, I’ll go back to it. It’s our ego trying to hang on to the control.
My Haiku is about a cricket:
Late summer leaves
compose sweeping symphonies.
Crickets wings applaud