​water
flowing,
         falling, 
freezing, 
m e l t i n g,
taking on the shape 
of what's needed
to heal
 
Today I was listening to the sound of water falling in the shower.  It was hypnotizing, melodic, soothing.  When I am in flow with life, it's easy to be kind to others and myself.

But when things feel hard, I freeze. It takes more conscious effort to be kind. It's easier to become reactive, adding more wind and fire to an already volatile situation. And these elements don't help thaw my self-righteous, hurt identity.

Leslie Booker's talk on Embodied Wisdom reminds me how all thoughts and emotions have elemental manifestations in the body. When the force of these elements are strong, unskillful actions can burn and blame others or myself to obtain quick results and relieve discomfort.

In contrast, skillful action is motivated by patience, curiosity, openness, and a desire to foster connection. But I cannot feel supported by the ground beneath me or flow with my surroundings without learning how to tame the fire and wind energies within.

I must take refuge in someone or something larger than myself (meditation, nature, journaling, talking to a trusted teacher or friend). When the wildfire is contained in the heart's afterglow, my frozen self begins to melt. Tears fall, and wise action is no longer a foreign concept, but embodied by an earth child who has grown into the avatar of Kaveri, a woman flowing to meet her source, to know her True Nature. There is a sincere wish for all beings to be free.

May our elemental natures take on the shape of what's needed to heal. May we embody skillful action in ways that are most meaningful to us.

Balance, ©

You don't have to be perfect,
just present for the gift of insight  
each time you breathe into this moment.
The top ten hits can fade into silence
as you listen for another song-
one you've always known
but conveniently forget
when joy wrestles with sorrow.
The tipping point between peaks
and troughs of experience 
was never controlled by others,
but the balance inside your own heart.
 
Do you ever get tired of listening to your top ten hits, songs you play repeatedly sending the same subliminal message of victimization and entitlement?

He doesn’t care about me. She isn’t trying as hard as I am. My body isn’t supposed to feel this way.

It’s easy to blame someone else for your disappointment, or point the finger within. After all, your life would be perfect if he/she would stop saying this or doing that, if you could whip yourself into the shape of perfection.

What insights do we miss when we are too busy scurrying around like mice to fix someone else or ourselves? What covers do we use to hide vulnerability, to push discomfort down so deep that we are shocked when it resurfaces.

Where did this come from? I don’t recognize it.

And if I do recognize it, why on Earth would I ever want to engage? Isn’t it easier to blame?

The Song of Silence is our greatest ally. It’s where we can press the pause button and quiet the core beliefs. Joy was never wrestling with sorrow. Both were always dancing, taking turns to share the spotlight.

Balance comes when we recognize that the tipping point between peaks and troughs of our experiences was never controlled by others.

You are not the reason for my absolute joy. You are not the reason for my absolute sorrow.

Is it possible that all beings simply mirror your capacity for both ends of the spectrum?

Whether he cares about you or not, whether she is trying as hard as you are or not, whether your body is cooperating or not, your heart alone carries the capacity for equanimity.

This is not an ideal to perfect, but a possibility to practice. In the relative realm, we crash into each other and demand payment for damages incurred. In the absolute realm, we are all jewels in Indra’s net and speak/act accordingly.

You must understand what it means to live between the balance of these two realms, “to let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final. Don’t let yourself lose me.” (Rainer Maria Rilke)

Who is this me? As you practice breathing into each moment, touching each vulnerability and bathing it in the blessing of loving awareness, may you find “an unshakeable freedom of heart”. (heard from Dori Langevin) May you pause long enough for silence to disarm doubt, till the balance inside is the me you recognize.