Week 103 - Sitting in the Power
Best Moments by Shirley Riga, written in 2020
In my book of rules,
best moments were supposed to be
birthday parties and holidays,
family meals and first days of school.
The have-to’s, the should’s
followed me around into adulthood
in my head, dragging on my shoulders
and tied around my ankles.
I never knew there was an individuation rule
to become my own person with my own
likes and dislikes, boundaries and borders
defining my uniqueness.
I have been writing my own book of rules.
Not my parents, not my teachers.
Not my bosses or opiners.
My rules – my moments.
How would I know what I enjoy,
unless I experience no joy?
How would I experience my truth,
if I hadn’t experienced untruths?
Early mornings when the birds are waking
and the sun has dawned is a best.
Late at night when I stand under the stars,
I can hear the whispers of sleeping is a best.
Window open, cool air and covered is a best.
Silence within and silence without is a best.
Speaking truth and being heard is a best.
Tasting food with a hungry stomach is a best.
Every child I have a moment with,
I remind them of their uniqueness,
and it’s okay to be different and it’s
okay to have an opinion – it’s okay.
I’m listening. I’m filling the air around
me with the messages I want to hear
that helps me feel free and individual
and unique and special.
So many ways to define a best
and so easy to look for worst.
A mentor reminded me one time
a moment is in each breath.
Breathing in is a moment of gratitude.
Breathing out is a moment to let go.
Breathing in is a moment of truth.
Breathing out is a moment to let go.
A treasure hunt happens every day
looking for the best.
Which moment will it be
that I capture another moment?
If you would grow to your best self
Be patient, not demanding
Accepting, not condemning
Nurturing, not withholding
Self-marveling, not belittling
Gently guiding, not pushing and punishing
For you are more sensitive than you know
Mankind is as tough as war yet delicate as flowers
We can endure agonies
but we open fully only to warmth and light
And our need to grow
Is as fragile as a fragrance dispersed by storms of will
To return
only when those storm are still
So, accept, respect, and attend your sensitivity
A flower cannot be opened with a hammer.
Comments