Vulnerable Steadiness

As I hurriedly moved my last bag out of my room at the beach, I drew up short to watch the very slow and steady progress of this slug. The grey walkway was smooth going, but there was the obvious gap and switch of terrain. The slug's feelers stretched out to assess its continued course. I put my bag down, groped for my phone, and noticed the steadiness of its progress. Slow, yet not hesitant.

My car packed, I continued to ponder the slug's movement. Was there meaning in my encounter with this creature? The obvious meaning was slow down. In today's culture of busyness, we move frenetically.  We live under the overarching theme of more ~ more work, more money, more play, more vehicles, more experiences, more house/s, more food, and the ultimate: more time. We act as though the faster we move, the more we can do and acquire. We forget that faster does not equate with better and quantity does not equate with quality. It reminds me of Harry Chapin's song Cat's in the Cradle:

My son turned 10 just the other day
Said, "Thanks for the ball, now c'mon let's play.
Will you teach me to throw?"
I said, "Not today.
I've got a lot to do." He said, "That's okay."
And he walked away and he smiled and he said,
"You know I'm going to be like you, Dad.
You know I'm going to be like you."

What we really need to do is slow down. More than that. We need to pay attention. Follow the trails written in the earth beneath us. Move at a steady, considered pace. Breathe deeply of the dew-soaked, loamy morning air. Touch all we love with tenderness. Allow every sense space to express and explore. Be awake and aware. Let your vulnerability be the voice of your strength.

What is your usual pace? Is it the same every day? What do you attend to as you move through your day? When do you slow down? What do you notice when you do? How can you move more slowly and observantly? Do you recognize when you are vulnerable? How do you express your vulnerability? Which of your senses is the strongest? Do you notice how every one of your senses processes the world around you? What one thing can you do to increase your awareness? How many times in the past week have you said something akin to 'not now' to someone or something you love?

Furious Dancing

As the nights grow longer and various holidays approach, many people find the season difficult. Busyness abounds, people's spirits bounce between happy and desperate, and the continual cheeriness of holiday music adds to the disorientation.

Add to that, the results of the US elections ~ no matter your vote ~ and the occasional rockiness of the financial markets. Whew! Lots of situations out of our immediate control! Together this suggests this is a difficult time.

Personally, I love the concept of furious dancing to counter the effect of the hard times. Women have always found movement alleviates stress. Although men in some cultures dance, they mostly participate in other movement-oriented patterns. Music, dancing, rhythmic swaying ~ all these ways of releasing and changing the energy. The harder we dance, the more we release our sadness, fears and worries. When our bodies are in a strong rhythmic place, our minds move with the same rhythm. The more furiously we move, the more quickly our thoughts slip through our minds. We literally move into a higher vibration of being ~ more awake and aware to our surroundings and less willing to hold onto the darker space. Let's all find time to dance up a storm to whatever rhythm and music we choose. If nothing else, it's great exercise!

What do you do to get through hard times? Can furious dancing fit into your plans? How do you shift energy when feeling overwhelm? What other form of movement could help you get through these times? Does the growing darkness affect your mood? What else can/do you do to alleviate that?

Hearing Our Own Music

When I am in the midst of chasing around, I find that I more easily pay attention to the busyness around me. I fall into line with whatever shows up as the norm because I am paying less attention to that still small voice within.

In this autumnal season of dying, resting and slowing down, in the midst the ever-darkening beauty of its colors, I find myself quieting, paying more attention to my own personal rhythms. My movements beginning to follow another pattern ~ one I alone seem to be hearing. Or, if others are hearing it, we haven't taken note of each other!

Also, as I grow ever older and into whoever that older person is becoming, I am less concerned about people noticing me dancing ~ or talking to myself ~ or answering myself ~ or, well, everyone has those actions they do that allow others to step aside or join in. My actions may be different from yours, or from those around me, but they originate from the same place.

I've also been privileged to have many friends who are artists in various arenas from spoken to written to visual to musical. They have taught me to be less concerned about what others may think and more concerned about where my heart and soul ~ where that vague Being I call the Divine ~ is leading me. As I write this, I recall that one of those artists is no longer with us: a beautiful, smiling, gentle soul who danced alone on an empty dance floor simply as the music moved her. She is a guardian angel guiding me ~ and perhaps others who knew her ~ to listen for and respond to the music I hear.

What kind of music do you hear? How do you respond? Are you concerned with what others may think of you? How do you respond to those who dance or mutter to their own music? How could you respond more freely or spontaneously to your music?

Looking and Seeing

Look.
See.
Within the Flower
sits the Bee.

My mind races from thought to thought like the flashing of the pixels on a computer screen. I think everything is still and silent ~ until I am focused on the Bee. Then I recognize that I've been in that strange outer world of technology and light. It's the world I've created, the world in which I operate most of the time. The world of busyness and speed.

There's a difference between looking at something and truly seeing it. While striding past a patch of flowers, heading toward my car, I noticed the bright tones of gold and orange blossoms and the subtle dark green leaves. The stunning contrast caught me up short and I turned to look more closely while grabbing my camera in my bag. This was the first step ~ I looked at the composition of the patch of flowers.

When I stopped to regard the patch more closely, the movement of the bees in flight above it caught my attention. I stood still for the space of a few purposeful breaths, slow and deep, allowing my eyes to travel the bee's dance. That's when I saw a number of the bees landing on blooms, strolling through and collecting pollen.

Seeing the bees land and dance on the blooms, I raised my camera, focused and snapped the picture. The entire process didn't take long, yet it required that I pause my perpetual motion long enough to slide from noticing to looking to seeing. Each step brought me closer to the bright dance of flower, pollen and bee.

I am grateful for the flash of color, for my eyes that saw it, for my mind that recognized its beauty, for the deceleration it brought. My world is full of moments like this.

What do you allow to slow you down? What catches your eye? How do your traverse that chasm from looking to seeing? How often do you notice whatever is in the natural world around you? How diverse are the feelings you have when you slow down?