Friday, August 19, 2016

So much more than enough...



On this new summer day, it is so easy to take for granted that tomorrow will come – that another opportunity will be given to witness a sunrise, to breathe into the heart, to be astonished at the purples and the blues in an Aspen sky, to share a moment of aliveness with the deer on our morning walk.

But another part of us knows it is so fragile here, so tenuous, so shaky, and that this opening into life will not be here for much longer. Recognizing this, let us surrender the dream of postponement by doing whatever we can to help others, by being fully here and entering into the dark and into the light with them, no longer apologizing for our uniqueness, our sensitivity, and the gifts of our sacred vulnerability.

At the end of this life – which is sure to come much sooner than we’d like – it is doubtful we'll ask if we managed to accomplish all of the tasks on our to-do lists, completed some mythical journey of “awakening,” perfected ourselves, healed all our wounds, played it safe, got all of our needs met, made it big, manifested everything we (think we) wanted, or figured it all out.

Inside your heart there may be only one burning question: how well did I love?

Did I pause each day to behold the wonder of just one unfolding here and now moment? 

Was I willing to take a risk, to feel more, to care so deeply about this life, to let another matter, and to honor *this* very experience, exactly as it has been given?

To look softly into the eyes of our lovers and our friends. To touch the earth, to feel the water, to gaze into the moon as it release its lunar essence into hearts in all directions.

Did I stay close with the mysterious movement of both sweet and fierce grace as it took form as the others in my life, and as the wisdom flow of feeling, of emotion, and of sensation in this body? Was I willing to fall in love, to truly fall in love with this life, exactly as it is?

Was I willing to set aside the unending need to make this moment different?

What is it that remains unlived… for you? How have you been holding back? What are you waiting for? To what degree are you willing to set aside the trance of postponement?

The bounty and the harvest of this world is upon you. It is always already here, surging in the here and now, and is not waiting. Allow the spell of the “next moment” to be broken.

I hope I make it all the way through this sweetest of ever summer days, but if for some reason I do not, this would have been enough. I have been given so much more than enough.


Photo by Matt Payne near Aspen