Tolerate/Embrace

i am aware that the word tolerate is mixed with acceptance…sometimes, but not always.  That is honest. That is the reality of living with a chronic illness, well, living in general. Embracing is always infused with acceptance, but that doesn’t mean everything embraced is enjoyable. 

Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t.

linking to:

a river of stones

Reading one of my friend Cathy’s posts last week got me thinking about the word tolerate. If you haven't read Cathy's writing or viewed her art in the past, I highly recommend visiting her blog: Healing Through Multiple Sclerosis Cathy inspires me continuously. She was also a guest blogger during Gratitude Month. (sharing the day as a double shot of gratitude with my friend Rose who writes another must read blog!) You can watch a video of her here.

What do i tolerate? What do i embrace? i tolerate the way my house is far messier than i want it to be, because i just don't have the energy to clean up after the kids and maintain the space the way i want it to be. Some days i tolerate this better than others, but over all this has become a big letting go and toleration for me. (…Gordon does an amazing job…taking on my old tasks, but he’s got enough stuff to deal with of his own…i am not complaining….really i’m NOT) i tolerate the burning hot and tingly sensation in my right foot...i don't want to go on another medication to make it go away and shield myself from the reality of what is (for now, i am still willing to tolerate this discomfort). i tolerate not being able to drive and get out and about and work outside my home the way i used to. i tolerate fatigue that is so powerful i just fall down sometimes and the grace is not in the way i get back up, but that i am patient with my exhausted body and malfunctioning central nervous system. i tolerate the way my mind wanders when i sit in meditation...and i am becoming more adept at this...at not judging...just bringing my thoughts back to a metta phrase or touching my breath when i realize i've drifted into a story.

i embrace opening more compassionately to all the things i am only tolerating. i embrace trusting that tolerating is good enough, that it is often the best i can do. i embrace each morning as a gift...albeit a complicated one some days...mostly seeing the gift and accepting it is pretty simple though (until my thoughts get tangled into a knot with my emotions...then i remember that i'm creating the tangled web and i can just as easily allow it to dissolve as be caught up in it, if that is what i choose to do) i embrace gratitude for friends for family for this beautiful earth for connection to spirit and all that is was will be. i embrace strength in fragility and wholeness within my brokenness. i embrace creativity not just a lifestyle but the essence of life itself. (and in the unboundedness of creativity i include the choice to ignore punctuation rules if it’s more fun to just skip them sometimes or to post abstract photos of the world as I see it from the car window when we are in motion…really why not be playful? These are risks worth taking!) i embrace joy whenever possible and sadness too…because feeling whatever i am feeling is another way to accept the reality of the moment at hand. i embrace the smallness of i, (of me) and the enormousness of being ONE with you. 

May we all learn to discern what is tolerable and what we are able to embrace fully...as well as what is simply NOT acceptable, like hatred and brutality....even  toward our own precious selves. There are far too many ways we judge ourselves more harshly than we might other people at times. This is the lifelong practice of compassion, for we all deserve love and respect.

ps. Yesterday's photo give-away winner is Judy at Peace Be With You . Congratulations Judy! Thank you everyone for your thoughtful comments on yesterdays post!

A Gift for Kind Travelers

today's small stone: 
We are all passengers in life. We never know what is over the next rise. 

linking to:

a river of stones

We like to predict, but in truth, we can't know exactly what will greet us on the other side of the mountain. And there is ALWAYS another mountain. We have no control over what the view will be, but we can choose how wide to open our eyes, or we can choose to close them. And if our vision is impaired by birth, illness or accident or darkened by our own lids in anxiety, we can listen to the sounds that surround us, the sound of our own blood pumping through our hearts, our breath out and in. And if we cannot hear because our ears no longer function well, or cannot listen because we are afraid, perhaps we can feel the temperature of the air upon a patch of exposed skin somewhere on our sacred bodies and trust that even a draft of wind, warm or cool is a kiss goodbye from the mountain we've recently crossed or a gentle "hello" reminder that right now, we are alive and awake. And if our limbs are numbed or our skin, because we have been injured or are ill or are hiding from ourselves, from our own senses, there is a deeper knowing, energy flowing beneath the surface of our physicality that we can fall into and float and rest...yes rest in the grace of "this moment." We are all passengers in life. We never know what is over the next rise...but we can always choose to find a way to pay attention to what is happening now. 

Sometimes, we need to pull over for a moment and wait for a kind stranger to show us directions when we get lost. I pour out my thoughts and feelings, imagery and awareness into this blog and I become the kind stranger for myself.  But I am never alone here, there are always old friends and new traveling companions beside me on this road as well, making life less lonely and frightening, teaching me, guiding me, listening and looking with open compassionate hearts. I thank you from the depths of my own heart.

I feel so deeply honored (astonished, actually!) that at this time there are over 200 people from around the world who follow this blog. Nearly every day, at least 100 of you stop by to visit (again, astonishing to me!) and so tomorrow I will randomly select a commenter from today's post, to send today's image to as a 5x7 matted print. (or, if you have a favorite from a past post let me know I would be happy to have a different one printed for you.) I am ever grateful to be on this road with all of you sojourners, who have generously sat here with me on this blog. You are bright spots in my sky, opening my heart more fully every day to the goodness inherent in the world, Divine sparks embedded everywhere. 

I wish I had more energy (and time in a day) so that I could visit more of you more often...but I know that I cannot do that, it is not realistic...and when I do drop by, I want to be really present for you, reading your words, hearing them, viewing your amazing art and photos, seeing them...hearing and seeing YOU. I'm doing the best I can and hope you understand that is not a lack of interest or desire to connect, when I don't respond to your thoughtful comments with return visits or personal messages. I am doing the best I can. Perhaps as the light continues to grow and the days lengthen my strength will be invigorated and my stamina will extend with the hours of the day. 



gentle steps,
Laura

Time Release

Sitting in stillness

My breath, my thoughts, emotions

The world rushes through

Anchored to heart beats

Time released, I find center

Surrender that too

Yesterday there was a whole lot of surrendering going on, my neurons were not particularly cooperative. Okay, that sounds unkind...it isn't as though they have choice in any of this. MS is a disease of complete randomness, and my body is doing the best it can with the strange situation it is forced to cope with day in and day out. Yesterday began with birthday hugs, a wonderful coaching session with a client I adore (become friend-I LOVE when that happens) and then a heart to heart talk on the phone with a blogging friend who has also become dear. I made it to the end of both conversations with my NORMAL, non-globally accented voice...got up to bathe and next thing I knew, my legs went rag doll and I was on the floor. Which also meant not just an accent but dysarthria. I needed assistance in and out of the tub and rested the rest of the afternoon. I was able to slowly walk down the steps by dinner time with Belin's assistance and we celebrated with gifts and a cake and laughter. Then it was piggyback up to bed (thank God my husband is strong and I am light). I don't know what today will bring. I pray for my brain and my muscles to communicate with more ease than yesterday, (it is a PT day after all) but it's okay either way. It is all just practice in the art of surrender and opening my heart/mind to peace within my own center; remembering the gifts of stillness, breath, heartbeats and time released.

linking to:

a river of stones

For more poetry visit:

One Shot Wednesday

Happy 17th Birthday Belin

 today's small stone:


When "memory" and "nostalgia" meet "here" and "now" they must find a way to fit into the same glass slipper (or Momma's big boots) without shattering anything.

linking to:

a river of stones

Belin, age 2

I found this priceless quote on my friend Dr. Jay's blog a while ago and have been waiting to share it with the thoughts it inspired in me.

“It isn’t necessary to imagine the world ending in fire or ice. There are two other possibilities: one is paperwork, and the other is nostalgia.”

~Frank Zappa

Your world began with ice...an incredible, crystal landscape welcomed you as Daddy drove down the center of the highway, because there were no "lanes" due to the storm that brought you into the world. Right from the start you had your own path Belin.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

On an early November evening not so long ago, I finished helping you dress up for an elegant Sweet Sixteen party for one of your friends. And as I started my mommarazzi extravaganza, annoying you mercilessly with my endless photo shoot, I looked through the lens and thought: “Holy crap, you look like a woman! When did this happen??”

I saw it, see it happening gradually every day, but it isn't until moments like the evening I described above, when you are dressed to the nines, that I finally realize my little girl...isn't anymore. You've turned some corner and behold; before me stands a beautiful young woman.  You are 17 today Belin. You have much maturing to do before you can fully claim adulthood, but still, on that evening, you suddenly looked like a grown woman gazing at yourself in front of the antique mirror above the bureau from Aunt Bella, your namesake.

My daughter, you hold equal interest in forensic anthropology (bones that tell stories), the written word, rocks and minerals, speaking French, the ancient peoples of the British Isles, cooking vegetarian cuisine with your own delicious creative flair, and everything there is to know about Harry Potter and his magical world.

 So is this the end of the world, my world, as you turn and pass through a door?

Is this what Zappa meant, this sinking feeling of missing my little girl and your prized "Barbie's from around the world" collection that once occupied space on your shelf, boxed and stored away for years now? The tiny blond child  with abundant curls, building fairy houses in every nook between the above-ground tree roots you could find in our yard? The same child I read bedtime stories to, over and over until you could do it yourself, at which point getting you to close a book and go to sleep became an impossible quest? Clearly I'm more caught up in nostalgia than paperwork!

Oh darling, eldest daughter, beautiful and open when you choose,

 inward and longing for solitude often, because that nourishes you

 with your brilliant, inquisitive mind, sharp wit and infectious belly giggle, 

 impossibly tiny Cinderella feet,
(size 5!)

 that will take you exactly where you need to go in this life

...you are blossoming.

Happy Birthday Belin!

Yes I love you bigger than the sky!

Just Leaves

caught in the sunlight, the snow, temporarily frozen, waiting, dissolving.

 poised, positioned to gently float, trusting a breeze to arrive the moment it is meant to.

just leaves...just thoughts...just emotions...passing across the snowscape.

Happy Birthday to my big brother Owen:)

linking to:

a river of stones

and

Gratitude Renewed

another day dawns

the light grins through the woods

across my face

becoming my smile

spread wide with gratitude

renewed

So often this is the way I wake up each morning. So often this is the view from my window. So often this is the view into my heart. Not so this morning, to be honest. It is gray outside. I woke up feeling a bit anxious, worrying about the future; gray inside. I sat up, set my meditation timer, practiced metta. My mind wandered and I gently corralled it back to: "may I feel safe. may I feel happy. may I feel strong. may I live with ease." I start to write some more. Not from the image  I selected last night, but from where I am this morning. I still don't feel the grin I imagined I'd feel this morning. It is quite gray outside and I hear drips of snow melting, or perhaps it is a light rain. I turn to look outside again. A shift. The sky is beginning to glow now, the slightest peachy-gold. Inner smile is waking up too. I feel calmer, safer, happier. Really. Sitting with my thoughts and emotions, turning to look outside then inside and outside then inside again...a smile is starting to grow from beneath my skin, reaching up toward my eyes. Do you know this tranquil smile, the kind that begins in the heart and rises upward? Imagining, then listening, then writing, reflecting, allows ease to rise with the sun, the light and lightness of my heart. Ahhh, gratitude...renewed.

linking to:

a river of stones

1.1.11

Happy New Year Dear Ones!

May we continuously feel connected to the 1.1.11 -ness that we  are. 

We are branches of the very same tree.

Part of the wholeness of being.

Earth's family.

One.

Looking for elegant black and white images? 

linking to:

a river of stones

Thanks Caroline for this observation about the 1's:)