It’s rare that we speak with conviction and power, save the plentiful moments when we’ve reached the end of our ropes, when something has triggered us; when we are primarily reactive and defensive, rather than in our truth, strength, and vulnerability.
We’re always ready to reflex, to react out of anger, fear, or the scarcity of an unfulfilled spirit. Instead of looking far down the highway and around at the scenery, we keep checking the fuel gauge.
We’re desperate to relate, to push, pull and twist the few things we can exert control over — and occasionally, hopefully, to sleep a few hours of restless sleep. We berate and belittle our tired mind, as it revisits and replays the same old tired scripts and programs… That last spiritual retreat didn’t quite hold. They never do.
So, where’s the love? There’s a compressed and condensed mass in your chest; it doesn’t feel like it should. There’s tension in your belly (which reminds you — more sit-ups), yet that, too, has been a constant companion.
Is it simply exasperation? Overwhelm? Both? When did we all get so far from center? When did the psychological dis-ease get so… comfortable?
You can’t force joy, or happiness, but you can stop reinforcing negativity, lack, competition and malice. We know well that the things we give our energy to live on and flourish.
Maybe we should foster awareness as to what keeps derailing our natural, beneficent flow, slanting us ever-so-often toward the darkness.
We know well the muted tones and shades of grey. We know well the illusion and transient superficiality of rose-colored lenses. We don’t need more trickery and mind games.
With practice, we can train the eyes to see again the vibrancy all around, to slow down the machine; to peer softly into the soul of presence and purity.
We owe it to ourselves to reclaim our innocence and artful playfulness — moment by moment, breath by breath — to find again the confident swagger and the meaningful cadence, to be light on our feet and thought-free in our spiritual dance.
Lovely notions, indeed. My point is that we know all this, absolutely.
All of it is available to us; everything is here to help us.
Summon your eternal poetry.