Appreciating What I can, Being With What I Can't
today is not the day for profundity.
instead, I will leave you with a word—
exuberance.
do you feel it?
the way “exuberance” reaches across space, and fills up everything around it?
I wonder if every word is like that
with a power to irradiate absolutely whatever it touches?
Nothing to say,
Just trying to describe
the row of clouds
each a solemn island–puffy at top, flat at bottom,
white brushed with silver,
floating in the blue of an early spring sky.
“drink your milk!”
“focus!”
“argh! Can you please _____” brush your teeth/wear your clothes/put on the soap/finish your meal
rushing,
rush-ing.
Rush.
Rush.
Rush,
Hush.
Hush.
Hush.
Come down.
Feel your feet,
feel the earth.
Feel this moment.
See your heart.
‘twas a wonderful vacation, and I want to capture some of the things that stood out.
the sense of ease—we forget it in our day to day lives. things begin to seem Important. With a capital I. And they are. But to also remember . . . to do what is the easiest, most good-feeling course in the moment. Like when we got out towards Zion, only after 2:30 because we decided to do some grocery shopping and cook us all a lunch because we were all sick of outside greasy food. And then it turned out to be perfect because there were very little people on the trail in the later part of the afternoon. The sense of majesty and being surrounded by something so much greater and vaster, with patience and space, was—is—nourishing.
the vast, open vistas. there was an energy of slowing down in those vast vistas which was easy to tune in to even though we were just driving past.
to infuse our lives—to remember again, and again, that sense of simply relaxing—not doing a vacation, but meandering, and kind of planning, but also being open to what the day calls forth.
I want to remember this particular aspect as we look at schools again.
and there were many many many many more things to love: remembering the ease. just being outside in majestic, vast, millions-of-years-old natural phenomena which is space and patience. taking the path of least resistance. doing so many firsts: hiking for five miles with N. N not feeling well on-off. Taking a vacay with someone else. AirBnB and Airbnb cooking. And ease. easy being. and so, it is.
“It’s all right, have a good time
‘Cause it’s all right, whoa it’s all right.”
I’m tired, but it’s a good tired. I cried some at the end of the movie “Soul.” (we were watching it today). The end where 22 becomes a monster on the outside to hide the frightened, ashamed self on the inside—oh that just. . . it made me start crying.
Reading The Five Personality Patterns it’s never been clearer that that’s what we’re all doing—doing our best to defend ourselves from the hurt inside by putting on all these personas on the outside.
“it’s all right, have a good time”—that line made me start crying in earnest. It touched that part of me that is always trying, always doing, always . . . trying to make the best choice. Because I am terrified of making the wrong one.
My wonderful integration practitioner helped me realize something: I do not have to push the terrified part of me away. I can make space for it, and be the benevolent leader, who tells the terror, welcome, you can stay here. You are not allowed to run things, but you have a place here.
As soon as she said that I felt the utter relief of letting go of the exhaustion that comes from trying to constantly keep something away from myself, the relief of letting go of that part of me that is always trying to push that terror away.
It’s all right, have a good time
‘cause it’s all right, whoa it’s all right.
~*~
quietness.
quiet contentment.
hope. seeing the track of my life coated with the rainbow sparkles of joy and solutions and kindness and well-being and abundance.
the crescent of the moon.
my heart, my child grooving to it’s all right.
re-discovering my partner as I re-discover all these parts of myself
the joy and the pleasure and the sparkle of intimacy
buoyancy and a hope that is an active ingredient and energy
my gifts and embracing them, one tiny acceptance at a time
going back to writing things I am appreciating in the moment—
and finding an utter abundance of moments, and things, and experiences that fill me up.
thank you, dearest Life. thank you, Universe. and maybe, thank you Self.
Practising Appreciation 