~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
After you ask, be at ease
and go about your way
knowing that, in its perfect time,
your request will be granted.
Keep your heart light, your mind
open, your trust a matter
of course. Then surrender,
and go where you are led.
Believe this. The earth is filled
with goodness, and jewels gleam
everywhere.
On any given tree, there are those who,
like race horses chomping at the bit to run,
are filled with eagerness to soar the instant
they are granted their colored flying suits.
Others wait for just the right blue of sky,
the perfect pitch of the wind, and they fly
in great flocks, like starlings flying over fields
of harvested corn. But a few hold on until
the last, gathering in one more glimpse
of the woods, of the earth, of sky
as long as they can. I would be one of those,
tucking every morsel of it into my heart,
glad for each earth-moment that I got to live,
destined for home now, twirling in joy.
Now is the time for wishes and dreams,
for spinning your hopes and casting
your seeds. Let them fly. Toss them
to the sky, believing. Let them sail
along the secret trails that destiny
weaves through the seasons and times.
Let them go. Then sleep your winter sleep
my child, until wonder wakes you in a land
of warmth and fragrant green, where birds
float to music and all your best wishes
come true.
I work here, in my studio, peering over my laptop
through these panes of antique glass,
noting the way hours change things.
Near the start of October, on a whim,
I decided to photograph the view in a series,
spanning time. Over the course of a few days
I fell in love with a particular leaf that danced
at the farthest tip of a branch
directly across from my window. It was broad
and healthy and green and loved the wind.
Last Sunday I blinked and it had turned bold yellow.
This morning I blinked and it was burnt orange ,
and now the last one on its branch.
I snapped its picture, then dashed off to run
the day’s errands. And when I returned,
it was gone.
Isn’t it interesting, I said to myself,
how the end of even a maple leaf’s dance
can leave such a void in your heart.
Back in 1971, a beloved comic strip character named Pogo uttered a statement about human nature that’s still repeated to this day.
On Earth Day of that year, the cartoon showed Pogo, who was an opossum, walking through a forest with his friend, Porkypine. Porkypine tells Pogo that the beauty of the primeval forest touches his heart. Pogo, who is walking somewhat gingerly on his tip-toes, replies, “It gets me in the toes!”
It’s the next panel of the cartoon that holds the famous line.
Porkypine and Pogo are resting at the base of a tree overlooking a meadow that’s become a vast junkyard, full of cans, broken bottles, rusting cars, papers, dead appliances, tires. Not a living thing can be seen. Porkypine agrees with Pogo saying, “It is hard walkin’ on this stuff.” Then comes Pogo’s famous line:
“Yep, son. We have met the enemy and he is us.”
The truth of that is certainly clear to us when we decide to clean up a bit of the junk that’s littering our own inner landscapes by ditching a habit that we no longer want in our lives. The part of ourselves that’s the enemy appears as a Temptation.
Temptation is a sneaky guy, wily as can be. But here are three tactics you can use to defeat him.
Temptation is an alert telling you to pay attention, that an arch enemy has entered the scene.
As soon as you notice it, imagine a mighty invisible shield falling between you and the temptation. This shield has the magical ability to stop time long enough for you to remember your intention to go in a different direction now.
As you create this mental scene, take a slow, full breath through your nose. Then sniff in a quick “topper” breath, to fill your lungs completely. Next, purse your lips and blow out vigorously as if you were trying to extinguish a whole bunch of candles on a cake. (Maybe it’s a birthday cake for a new, improved you!) Imagine the air blowing the temptation completely away.
If it’s a cantankerous temptation, you may have to blow a few times. But it will bring you calm and control.
Know your enemy. Think about what tactics he uses to defeat you. You’ve fought this battle before and succumbed to temptation’s trickery. Remember that everything he tells you is a deceptive snare woven of illusions designed to draw you in. The goods he delivers bring temporary gains, but spell your defeat once the moment’s satisfaction has passed.
Catch him in the act, and calmly decline his offer. “I see what you’re doing there. No thanks.”
Being cordial to your enemy disarms him. And you can thank him because this habit he’s tempting you to continue probably served some purpose in the past. You don’t have to remember what it was. You just feel like moving on, that’s all.
He might continue his antics; he knows he’s won before. Get the best of him by smiling as you turn down his offer again. Actually smile. A big, contented smile. And keep on repeating “No thanks. I have other things to do.”
Enlist a friend to remind you that you are a powerful being, capable of refusing anything that stands in the way of your being who you intend to be now. Tell your friend what you’re practicing leaving behind, and what you plan to do with the resources that leaving it opens up for you. Tell him that you could use his encouragement while you take your first steps down this new path.
Or make up an invisible warrior to stand at your side if you like, to reinforce you when temptation threatens. “You can do this” he says, grinning at you.
Remember, “What you practice you get good at.” That’s just the way it works.
So choose to practice being free to be the best that you can be. And keep on keeping on. Because the other side of what Pogo said is that we are also our own best friends.
Wishing you a week of victories!
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Denis Doukhan from Pixabay
You are the essence of gaiety and delight.
To stand inside your citron arms
is to banish every residue of sadness
and every wish for something other than
this golden, shimmering now.
Your lemon-lime leaves sing the music
that my heart has so longed to hear.
And I dance to you, oh great one,
with my heart dancing to your song.
First comes spring, the great out-breathing
of the winter’s dreams. Then
summer, the inhalation of light
to feed and grow them. Now,
autumn, and the out-breath of
the earth, carrying its completed
forms until the winter rest,
the deep inhalation, in whose
darkness earth conceives new dreams.
It took only minutes for the accident to unfold. But after it, everything my friend Holly and her husband had known as their life had irrevocably changed. He was okay, but first responders had to help him crawl out of his totaled truck.
At first, there was the shock of it, and then the clearing of debris, the assessment of damage and of what was left. It’s no easy task to figure out what to do with a seriously altered reality. I watched to see how my friends would cope.
“It’s another pit in the road, for sure,” Holly said. “But we have shovels.” Those words were enough to assure me that they would find their way. What she was telling me was, “We can cope. We can do this. We have been through trials before.“
Believing in yourself, in your strengths and your resilience, is the first step in moving forward.
A couple years ago, a storm demolished much of another friend’s farm. As she worked to adapt to her altered world, she kept repeating to herself, “This is my life now.”
The life she had been living was gone. But her mantra helped her to see, first of all, that her life was still hers, however changed.
Repeating “This is my life now” let her see its changes from a fresh perspective. Instead of surrendering to the situation in hopeless resignation, she realized this altered life was hers to live and welcome, whatever it might hold. She was free to do with it whatever she chose, and she chose to live it as creatively as she could and to uncover all the possibilities it presented.
Life can slam the door on our familiar lives at any moment. It brings devastating weather, accidents, illness, loss, betrayal, wrecked plans. But it’s never what happens to us that counts; it’s how we respond to what happens that matters.
We learn things about ourselves from our trials, about what truly matters to us, about our capabilities and values, about the depth of our faith.
Nevertheless, the shock of sudden and unexpected change can be painful. That’s when it’s important to remember that HOPE stands for “Hang On, Pain Ends.”
As the pain of shock lessens, we begin to adapt to our altered reality. We pick up the pieces. We learn to pace ourselves, to conserve our energy, to look for resources, and helpers, and ideas. We learn to be patient; recovery takes time.
The fact is life goes on – even when we wish it didn’t. The direction it goes depends, to a very large extent, to how open we are to seeing that every setback, every obstacle opens the door to new possibilities. The key is to look for what’s good, to draw on our resilience and ingenuity, and to keep on keeping on.
We get to decide who we want to be in the face of the unknown. We can see ourselves as victims or victors, to be overcome by our circumstances or to be one who overcomes them and turns them to good. We can fall into the pit in the road or remember that we have shovels.
Wake up saying, “This is my life now,” and welcome it for all the potential it holds. Then do your best, moment by moment, to squeeze all the juice from the day that you can. Life’s a crazy place. But it holds as much joy as sorrow. Be brave and bold. Dare to claim life’s goodness and beauty. Every day that you get through has its gifts. Every day you’re alive, you’re a winner.
Wishing you courage and peace.
Warmly,
Susan
Photo, property of author’s friend
I walk the hillside gathering twigs
that I will use as tinder for fires
on cold nights, an autumn custom
that I began a couple decades ago.
The air carries the fragrance
of fallen leaves and coming rain.
For one brief moment, the sun
breaks through the layers of cloud
and I turn to see it kiss the treetops
as they dance, tall and bright,
against the charcoal sky.
I add the moment to my twig bin
along with a fallen gold leaf.
Remind me, I say to it,
the next time that I touch you,
of this warm and shining day
when I saw the sun brushing
the mid-October leaves
and watched them shimmer
in its light.
You show us our greediness, autumn.
We walk through your perfect falling leaves,
through the exquisite textures and colors
of you, grasping the moment so tightly,
wanting it never to end, or at least to slow
so we can take in every detail. And yet
the dance itself is at the heart of the beauty.
And the song can only sing if
we let the music play.