Beauty. Goodness. Big questions. Normally, I have to remind myself to see that beauty and goodness DO surround us. There’s no need for reminders about the big questions at this point. Can you relate?
These last couple of months have rocked the world. For me, March started out with confusion and loss, (more on that below). In the beginning, when things were changing from day to day, even hour to hour and we were all in a state of disbelief. Now a month in, I STILL find myself in that state half the time. I vacillate between feeling confusion and fear, (like the day I ventured out to Costco and saw all the workers dressed like surgeons), to feeling like this time is a beautiful gift. We have time to be with family and recalibrate/reevaluate. Be still. BE.
All the feelings are valid. “What you don’t feel you can’t heal,” as they say.
We can all feel and heal, meditate and listen…
Often times while being still I see pictures in my mind's eye that symbolize what is happening in my heart, or what The Spirit is saying to me. Recently, I saw a big book with its huge page turning. Whatever else this pandemic is, it is a forced, collective pause. There’s an invitation to turn to a new page, maybe a new chapter; to be still and listen, and awaken to who we’re made to be.
The exciting thing to me is that BE-ing almost always translates into DO-ing.
Only when we take time to BE, can our DOing happen from a deep and true and inspired place. I’m more excited than ever to collaborate and create from that secret place where God speaks. We’re LIGHTS created to burn brightly, fully aligned with our purpose, and equipped as we go…...because that’s what the whole world needs, each of us lit from the inside.
Stop the World (a poem I wrote in 2017)
Stop the world. Break my notions. Unwind the constrained descriptions in my mind - this small, feeble, false reality. Come, inexplicable and wide truth.
Stop the world. Experience fragility. Let it shatter the false in my patterns. Let what’s vulnerable teach me. Let what’s frightening inform. Conversion by calamity, you’re invited.
Stop the world. I am afraid to stop the world. I quake before my quiet mind. What will become of my constructs, my definitions, my lines in the sand?
Naked. Stripped of fig leaves - my prejudice, presumption, and dogma that binds. Clear this plank, leastwise the splinter. Now seen is a beauty not recognized before. Stop the world.
What’s next? (This, said with anticipation rather than exasperation…half of the time.)
"Come What May"