A Refuge
We live in an information-saturated culture. Stimuli and distractions abound. Technology both connects and disconnects us. (I wrote on this topic in my monthly mindfulness heart-letter.) I want my website to be a refuge—a place you can come for nourishment, safety, and calm. If you’re wary of social media, you can find a digest of my Facebook posts here:
January 6
We can be so unkind to ourselves. We berate ourselves about mistakes and flaws; push ourselves too hard; expect perfection, even though we know it's unrealistic. It's an epidemic of our independent, hard-working society. Though outwardly we pretend everything is okay, inwardly we harm ourselves with harsh words and judgments.
Still, we long to heal. Our hearts long to soften and open. The tender, vulnerable places, which we all have, long to be seen, heard, honored, and loved. It's important that we're honest with ourselves; that we see our blind spots. It's equally important that we're kind to ourselves; that we treat ourselves with compassion.
This is possible when we slow down, reflect, and listen to the wisdom within. We are all worthy, lovable, and enough as-is. There's nothing to achieve or improve or make different. It's okay to rest. Just breathe and be.
January 14
As a culture, we long for physical spaces that bring us peace and calm; that remove drama and allow for awareness. I see this when prisoners step into the chapel for mindfulness group or Y members walk into the yoga room for meditation class. There’s an audible deep breath. There’s a softening: removal of armor, perhaps needed in daily life, but unnecessary in an open, quiet, accepting environment.
It’s possible to create these spaces for each other. We needn’t start a formal group. Ordinary life provides copious opportunities. We create space when we listen deeply without distraction or judgment. We create space when we share from an unguarded heart. We create space when we look with kind eyes or act without agenda.
We all long to belong. We all long to be loved as-is. We can embody what we seek. We can be a safe, brave space for ourselves and others. This requires us to be present and aware; courageous and kind. It takes effort, but it’s possible. We’ll mess up and we’ll begin again. Small steps toward wholehearted connection.
January 21
Resting on the snow, these illuminated samaras remind me of the light, hope, and beauty in this world. Under the radar, far from the news camera, people are quietly and bravely making a difference. People are helping people in ordinary and powerful ways. Our own kind actions ripple outward. Our honest, aware, compassionate intentions spread through us into others. We never know the vastness of our impact. We assume it’s small, because we see such a narrow slice, but our words and actions affect people, and those people affect other people. We get to choose: Spread fear, doubt, negativity, and judgment; or spread love, humility, understanding, and acceptance.
Each day we have that choice, remembering that we’re not a lone person—we belong to each other and to the world. Each day, a new beginning.
January 23
Today, we received a steady, gentle snowfall. I went outside to experience the weather. The snow was different from a pouring summer rain. It was kind, soft, and inhabitable. Noises muted, I heard flakes landing on the ground. As I looked at the bare trees, covered gently in snow, I thought: What if we treated ourselves this way? When we’re raw, vulnerable, and bare, what if we cared for ourselves like a soft snowfall? We can be that soft landing for ourselves and each other: Pause, notice, listen, and be kind.
January 27
Today, in prison mindfulness group, I guided a standing meditation that led into seated meditation. During the group check-in, one inmate shared, “The standing was new to me, and really helpful. I could feel my legs. I could feel my body differently. And I realized, no one part of the body should hold everything. That’s too big a burden. Yet I regularly ask my mind to hold everything. The standing meditation helped me release.”
So many of us ask our minds to hold everything. Or our hearts. That’s a heavy and unnecessary burden. It’s difficult to flip 180 degrees—shift from mental burdens to complete relaxation—but it’s possible to move 2 degrees: How can I release, just a little, and experience ease within my next breath?
In the words of Sharon Salzberg: “It is a state of peace to be able to accept things as they are. This is to be at home in our own lives. This universe is much too big to hold on to, but it is the perfect size for letting go.” And this letting go can happen gradually. Intentional 2-degree shifts. Little bit by little bit.