Normally the date of my birth is what I consider to be the end and start of a new year. That said, here I am paying attention to the Gregorian calendar, acknowledging the gift of life in a physical body.
Moving forward, I’d like to say, Thank you often.
I would like to say, Forgive me, my brother, my sister, for missing an opportunity to bring joy.
I would like to remind myself to be easy about all of life. It’s meant to be fun!
I would like to remember that we are here to discover who we are. To expand and to be kind.
In all this I ask for the blessings of courage and utterance when I get caught in the process of change, when I cause suffering to my relations. I ask for insight to see clearly and to hear what’s being said, but most importantly, what’s not spoken or seen with the naked eye.
I would like to redraw the line to include more hope in the state of the world. More abundance of every delightful thing. In both big and small ways, this world/life continues to surprise me with immense beauty and astounding joy. Two days ago, I was walking in the yard and a dog came running and almost knocked me over. It rolled on my feet, then sprawled on its back and bared its tummy. The invitation was clear—I caressed the dog, moved my hands lavishly across the body until I forgot what it was I had been looking for. We stayed like that for a while until the dog sprang on its feet and was gone. I have no idea of where it lives but this I know: I spent the rest of the day in bliss.
Today, I walked through the woods in my neighborhood and came across a mushroom growing on a tree stump. Perhaps not unlike the dog, the mushroom’s willingness to be noticed arrested my attention. Here’s what I’ve grasped: The self is like a mushroom, here now, home, soft, permeable, absorbing light through the open pores. The dark survives and flourishes in the fungus, in us, while enabling us to break through the center that is also the beginning of life afresh. I think there’s healing and integrity in that. I did not stroke the mushroom because it looked the kind that’s armed with toxins. The dog could have been rabid too, which makes me reflect on my shadow aspects that spring from fear, worry, doubt, anxieties, resistances, and such. Instead of denying or shoving them aside, I would like to embrace and even appreciate them, not as excuses for inflicting pain, but rather for the contrast they provide to my light and enjoyable aspects. They are components of my self rather than the totality of my beingness. Therefore, I would like to attend to them as in prayer, for I believe they are my pointers to continue reaching for equanimity and increased capacity for compassion. Speaking of pointers for myself and my kind, it seems that we cannot fail to fail. We have enormous strength and frailties that make us perfect in our imperfections. There’s no need to beat ourselves up. Crosby Stills & Nash say it best in Southern Cross song. What’s meant to endure will, must.
And you know, there’s a thing such as actionable grace in all living and non-living things. While on the beach, my friend and I watched a dolphin come up for air, in and out of water every now and then. I’d started taking fish oil supplements so that led to the question: Is dolphin oil good for us?
Absolutely not.
Apparently, dolphins ingest a lot of mercury and other toxic elements. But they are so beautiful! Right there I wanted to cry and dive into the water and give the dolphin a big hug and a kiss. And you know, dolphins are mammals—a basic fact. Even if they were fish I did not like the idea that they carry poison in their bodies. How vulnerable!
But wait—aren’t we all? Still coming up for air regardless of what’s in our environment, Intent on breathing, being, loving, and doing what we must—
Let us be easy then. When our time comes we will die—a leveling fact. We will return to where we came from—the source of all creation and dissolution.
For now, at least in this moment as I write, I have the chance to experience with all my senses this bewildering life. To open my lungs and breathe. Again, breathe. There’s a blue sky. There’s always a blue sky and for that, alone, I am happy to be alive.
Happy New Year!
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