Santosha

What are you running from that pushes you to run towards, my darling? 

Can you stand still and be at peace with what is? 

The bad won't hurt you and the good won't leave you. 

You will see that in stillness. 

You will see that behind the seen. 

It is then when the world comes to you. 

Trust it will come to you. 

It will find you. 

You just have to let yourself be found. 

'The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away' - John Steinbeck 

Dear, Time.

Oh, Time. How we humans have tried to define you and control you. How we wrestle with your presence and our place in it. We carefully watch over you. We build everything in our lives around you. All of our efforts are bound by your existence and we measure ourselves through the appearance of staying ahead of you. We try and try to dominate you before you have a chance to dominate us. 

You slyly smile with a smirk, allowing us to pretend. You know it is our fear of you and our lack of control over you, that pushes us to grasp you so tightly.  

Time, you dress up so nicely as a metaphor. 

We cannot see you or touch you, and yet we get older still. Days pass. Nights come and go, as you remind us to live; to live as if your existence wasn't suppressive, but inspiring instead. And so we battle within to stay present and enjoy you without counting. As a wealthy person would lose his wealth by spending days counting it instead of producing more. 

How will we spend you, dear Time? 

Shall we hold your hand like a loyal companion or race you with a blindfold hoping to be a step ahead of what is? You are always alive, even when we aren't. We wake up one day and realize you have been busy. We wake up and see ourselves older and count our wealth in experiences and lessons. Our children are taking over where our memories had left off and our parents are far beyond our grasp of comfort; reminding us of your truth. 

Oh, Time. You clever and mystical companion. Observing as we sleep through our days. Patiently waiting so that we may discover for ourselves, that we only have so much left of you.

On that magical day, once we have taken enough advantage of you, you shake us awake into this art of truly living. You help us to crack open into the acceptance of what once was; the surrender of what is, and into the courageous vulnerability of opening to the unknown ahead. 

Oh dear, Time. How shall we celebrate you?

Travels

If you ever feel like you're going in circles and not 'moving' forward; exerting effort with little to show for it; stop where you are and remember. 

We are here to reveal the stars that reside in each others' worlds. 

Your acts ripple through countless lives. 

Your breath alone breathes life into our lungs. 

You have impacted many without knowing it. 

You have been seen and loved, even if the words haven't graced your ears. 

Trust that. Feel that. 

This truth does not exist in proof or in measurable results. It can't. You see, it would be physically impossible to measure the magnitude of your life on this earth. There is no scale, no measurement, no accounting in tangible format for visible proof. It is in the fibers of all that pulsates and breathes. So you must believe in the felt, in the heart, in the magic, in the silence, and in the glow that swells from the depths of you. 

I have learned to respond rather than to react. I have gained a desire to be of service rather than a need to win a race. I intend to make choices based on love rather than fear. The culmination of experiences and events in my life have led me here. The greatest of all may be that I have a clear need to create the life I love. As simple and as majestic as that. 

And maybe that's enough to remind me how far I have come. 

So have you. 

And so it is. 

To my love

Feel everything. Every-Thing. In darkness, hopelessness, and storms, always trust in your deepest of hearts that you know the sun is there. Be open to life. Pave the way now so that throughout it, you see and feel every sunrise, every sunset and every moment in between. It is all a gift. Allow your soul to have a direct connection to this life. There is no use in hiding your beautiful light. Let it shine without asking for permission or apology. 

May your purpose and passions be yours and yours alone. Pleasing others for that sake alone will only diminish your ability to truly touch souls. Question the should's, when they arise. Avoid pleasing for that sake alone, altogether. Me included. Especially for me. Pleasing your own heart is and always will be, enough. It is everything. Please remember that sacred truth and BE it, my love. 

You are always enough. 

May you recognize the sun always at your face.  May you trust that grace is always watching over you; guiding you through lessons to help you reach higher. Lessons to heal your heart and allow your soul to sing. May gratitude leave your lips as constantly and easily as breath. They are one in the same. Recognize this life is a gift and everything in your path is there for a reason, my love. 

You will always have a family. We will be your net to catch you. We will be ears to listen to every unspoken and rumbled word. We are eyes to watch in awe as you shine. We love you more than you could imagine. There will be times when you won't be able to. Our love is here all the same. 

Thank you for choosing us. Thank you for gracing us with your heart and spirit. We are better because of you and will always strive to evolve higher; to show you examples of the boundless possibilities, and expansive love that is available to you in this lifetime. May you live your most beautiful life, my darling. 

You are surely imperfect

You are surely imperfect. 

You should know that. 

A living puzzle.

Scraps bound together by the stickiness of frustration, the dampness of fear, the magnetic excitement of wonder, hope, love, and the soft landing into surrender. Each piece as colorful, unique and unexpectedly precise as the next. We take it all apart. Examine. Question. Force pieces that don't fit. And once we have had enough and feel ready, we observe. We step away and look at ourselves from a distance, to see the art we've made with what we were handed. 

As much as we try to figure ourselves out, we secretly know it's an endless pursuit. The questions multiply with each potential response. We want more and more, knowing there is nothing to grasp; nothing to attain. A bland uneasiness we feel as we search for something we can't define. What a laborious and fruitless treadmill run. We confine ourselves to this itchy turtleneck thinking it will make us better. 

You are surely imperfect.

 It was written in the stars long before you ever began thinking that you-being-you, wasn't enough. I wonder what made us create that thought in the first place. Tell that moment to go to fuck itself; that first moment that led to so many myths of inadequacy. So many efforts to mask yourself. 

Don't just give it a rest. Give it up all together. Let yourself be. 

You weren't born perfect. You didnt lose the ability to become perfect. You never had it. This striving you do. This tiresome pushing and collecting of the not enough's. All in an effort to reach something that will never be because it isn't you. This roller coaster of 'achievements' for someone else's game.  

Whatever you are searching for or hiding from, already lives within you.

You are surely imperfect. Each and every impeccable imperfection was designed for you. Lean into that. Listen to that. Make art with that. Thank this mosaic of you. Nothing more is needed. No outside ingredients to add. It will all unfold, one messy and masterful piece at a time. There are no mistakes. There is no right or wrong answer. 

You are the answer. 

You, my sweet, are surely and wonder-fully, perfectly designed. 

Heart of the matter

I can't remember what life was like before my boy. 

And that's just the thing. We hold on and resist change. We are, rationally so, scared to move forward because this is not a matter of the mind. 

Maybe to say, you can't remember what life was like before, is evidence enough that your heart is the one that needs you to leap; so that soon, you can wake up on the other side, and with a sigh of lightness say, I can't remember what life was like before you. 

Wisdom begins in wonder

Take a step back.  Find some space from the work. Release the effort. Look how far you have come, you beautiful human. 

You have been digging and walking; recalibrating and churning. All of the while, unsure of where this is all going and the worth of results unseen. 

Your knowledge has circled this Earth and reached more lives than you will ever truly know. 

You joy and dedication has inspired and rooted seeds for generations to come. 

Yes, you. 

You think that your life is small? That you may not have much to show for the leaps you take in those shoes? That your courageous heart isn't seen or felt?

What's left after the work and the notion of a consequence is released? 

Give thanks. Often. Redesign. Break patterns. 

Can you redefine so that there is no recognition? So that there are no labels or lines drawn? Instead of working harder, can you release and find the courage to be light? Can you let go of the effort and striving to get somewhere? 

Standing where you are right now, my darling, you have touched so many. 

We carry dreams in our pockets

We carry dreams in our pockets. Gathering and secretly storing them. That alone gets us through most days. We wait until the sun fades. Feeling safe and spared from another day of revealing what we aren't prepared to see in ourselves. 

We then empty our pockets and throw our secret visions into the night sky; watching our hearts burst open - silently, pleading the stars for answers. Praying for those hand-picked silent dreams to transform us.                                                 

It was the last time. I made the choice. I cleared away what has held me back. It took years to figure it out and a day to decide. I sobbed in gratitude. There's always a way. You can start again anytime. Just as silently as those gathered dreams and as intentionally as the decision to manifest them into life. 

It has to start with the courage to love. Love yourself enough to thank your present. Love what you do and your style of doing it. Love the paths crossed. Love every lesson. It is all there for YOU. Choose based on love rather than the fear of not getting it. 

Do yourself a favor. Reach into your pocket and pull out every one of those dreams. Those dreams you keep to yourself and repeat like a mantra in your heart. The ones that make you excited every time. The ones that you can't shake. Lay them out, one by one. Give them life. Talk about them. Tell someone. Don't wait any longer. Take a step forward. Inspiration is useless without a verb behind it. It is all on its way, waiting for you to bring it into your life. 

Provider

Freedom, you give it to yourself 

Compassion, you give it to yourself 

Forgiveness, you give it to yourself 

Dreams, you give them to yourself  

Acknowledgment, you give it to yourself 

You give it to yourself 

Suffering, you free yourself 

Joy, you fill yourself 

Abundance, you allow it to enter 

Love, you crack yourself exposed (or it cracks you) to feel its magnetism

You give it all to yourself 

Tenderness and Self-Acceptance, you give it to yourself

Peace, you give it to yourself 

Nurture, you give it to yourself 

Softness and Grace, you give it to yourself 

You, sweet soul, happen to yourself

Waiting in anticipation for resolve will only block your light. Remove exterior dependencies to fill yourself. Remove your own armor. Allow yourself to be seen. Grant yourself permission to stand as you are, then, will you receive the sweetness of this humanness. 

Only you can give it to yourself. 

Weather

I'm going to piss you off. 

I'm going to annoy you. 

It's guaranteed you will want to run away from me. 

Trust that your heart is in safekeeping, no matter the weather. 

My love is freely yours. 

~ Self 

I see him

He has a heart of gold. Expansive like the horizon and yet he keeps it to himself. He denies it. All of the tenderest ones do. The ones with the best memories and purest souls. He guards it with all of his might and covers as a sustainable machine who doesn't need love. Promising and shouting to never open his beating center again. Vowing to never let another in. Most crucially, to never need it. He swears to the heavens he is better without. In all of these promises of not feeling a damn thing, I hear his heart cry out. I feel the pain of his self-imposed solitude. Like unseen thunder, the ground beneath me trembles from his pleading heart. 

I see him. 

I can't love him enough to melt his walls. Only he can do that for himself. My words won't wake him or instill trust. My actions won't soften his grip. He can't see me and see love. He needs to find it for himself. 

Go. Go be cracked open. Allow yourself to melt like a puddle in love's warmth and tenderness. The pain you are trying to avoid is greatest in the starvation of love. And you have so much to give. 

To love you is to be a fool knowing it will go unseen and un-felt. My wasted heart is beating into an abyss. I have no control over it. She knows what she feels. She sees you. The harder you push the clearer you become. Your pain glows through your translucent walls.  Your fear is real and she begs you to see; to see for yourself that it isn't so. That this love won't hurt. And you run faster and further away. 

So I send you this prayer to satisfy my heart so that I can let you go. I could use some nourishment in return. I could use someone to hold me and support me. Hopefully he will see me as clearly as you saw me and he'll be able to stay. He'll be able to love beyond his walls.

I hope you get what you need

I hope I do too 

Perspectives

Sometimes I can't tell if God is protecting me from something, 

or if I'm protecting myself from God.