There are times in my life when I must return to the most simple truth and practice that I know.
There are times in our lives when we must each return to what is most simple and grounding.
Something important is happening anytime any one of us or any community of us find our way to what is simple and to what is life-giving.
A good chunk of my life is spent discovering this, and now teaching it and sharing it with others.
Behind all the circumstance of this and that, is breath. Oxygenation to move blood, and all the other physical things.
But then also, breath that is spiritual hydration. Breath that enlivens. Breath that centers. Breath that clarifies.
Earlier this week I’m in conversation with a pastor I know. We gather to find aliveness — breath — in learning. We share with each other the alot-ness that is life. The sorrow that is present in the micro and in the macro. Also the joy that is in the micro and in the macro. We share love for the needed ability to be in the “all of it.”
Alchemy happens when the breath of truth-telling arrives. To be shared. To be heard. To be welcomed together. To be encouraged to trust life.
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
And then there is Rupi Kaur, the Punjabi-Canadian poet and artist, writing in her book, The Sun and Her Flowers...
never feel guilty for starting again
in her book framed by this
think of those flowers you plant
in the garden each year
they will teach you
that people too
in order to bloom
Breath, to start again.
Breath, to welcome coming alive again.
Breath, to celebrate the simplicity and aliveness of the moment.
Breath, to welcome Life living in and around us. Breath to extend life energy to others in their journey, finding their journey.
To appreciate the barn, and what comes to sight ’round the bend after it.