~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
You never know when you start out
what your journey will bring.
Anything you can imagine
is possible, and then some.
It’s all a gift, you know,
a world for you, to explore
your choices, to decide who
you will be, to discover
what you’re made of.
Hold onto your hope and
keep your faith, remembering
that, regardless, light shines
at the end of the road.
Standing in this spot six months ago
I could hardly remember
that the bleak and frozen landscape
could give rise to this,
to trees luxuriant with leaves
and seeds, to velvety grass,
to a field of tasseled corn,
to moist warm air, filled
with birdsong and the fragrance
of summer. And now,
standing in this spot,
it’s hard to imagine
that in a handful of weeks
it will again return to sleep
beneath heaped blankets
of shimmering snow.
Yet here is the vision of it,
clear in my mind, and of springtime,
and autumn as well, the seasons blending
into the whole of this now,
where crows call and the air
is perfumed with summer.
I dip my finger in the nectar to be sure it had cooled
enough to fill the hummingbirds’ suddenly empty feeder.
It had. They’re going through it quickly these days,
storing up extra energy for their upcoming migration.
I slip on my pink rain jacket, pull up the hood,
and walk, giggling, through the rain, the wet grass
tickling my bare feet. When I return to my kitchen
with the feeder, I see a bee has come along for the ride.
I catch him in a jar and take him outside.
As I carry the filled feeder up the hill to its pole, a memory
rises in my mind of Holly, her big umbrella in hand,
walking through a downpour after tending to her chickens.
I smile that we both feed birds in the rain.
At first I mistook them for fleabane,
both having such tiny white flowers,
But as I neared them, I realized they
were something else, something
I had never seen before, inviting
me to take a closer look. “Oh my!
Petals like an orchid and wearing
such delicate dabs of purple!” I say
to myself as I gaze at the little flowers.
I never fail to be amazed at
the intricacies of the world,
at the touching, exquisite details.
It makes me hold my breath in awe
and to feel honored somehow
just to see them, right here, before me.
Suppose they have to agree,
before they can live as butterflies,
to a life that spans mere days.
But as compensation, they are offered
the freedom of flight on beautiful wings
through a world of brilliant flowers
in every color their eyes can see
and each one a feast of nectar so sweet
it would make them giddy with delight,
and every butterfly you see said Yes
to the bargain. Who could blame them?
Would you not have have said Yes, too?
The sun behind the flower of the sun
washes its light into the halo of petals
that shoot in joyous yellow flames
from the spiraling seed-birthing center,
feeding it, that it may feed others in turn,
a metaphor and mandala.
Shine on, bright flower. Shine on.
May I always remember, no matter what comes,
that once upon a time I visited a place
where people rode horses across lush deep valleys
just to ride, crossing the wide, rocky creek at the shallows,
then climbing the trail through the leafy woods toward home,
the sound of the creek playing in rhythm somehow
with the clopping of the horses. A few birds called.
But except for that, there was silence, and warmth
and a breeze, and the world felt alive and perfect,
and watching the riders, I felt joyous peace.
On those days when you just feel so great,
when your whole body feels so fine,
when the sky is so clear and the sun is so warm,
and everything’s singing its song,
you go right ahead and strut your stuff, babe.
Dance through the world like you own it.
“Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted.
Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world.”
~Hans Margolius
The deeper your contentment, the calmer your mind.
The calmer your mind, the clearer your perception.
The clearer your perception, the more beauty you see.
The more beauty you see, the more ecstasy you feel.
Seek contentment.
While digging around in my archives the other day, I found this “Blast from the Past” that I wrote in 2010. I was writing about character strengths at the time and this one was about the strength of optimism. I called it . . .
“The Breakfast of Champions”
None of it matters: Where you were born, who your parents are, how tough you had it growing up, how many boulders you had to climb over, what the competition was doing.
What matters is whether you’ve got heart, how much you want to be, how deep you’re willing to dive into the life force within you, what stories you believe and tell.
Especially the stories. You either have excuses or you have reasons. It’s up to you. You either let it get you or you don’t. You see people who came from the sorriest of life’s lot wearing medals, champions risen from the dregs. What kinds of stories do you suppose they listened to and chanted to themselves in the dead of night? Tell yourself those kinds of stories.
The ones who win life’s prizes don’t let a missing leg or drunken dad or empty wallet tell them that the whole deck of cards is stacked against them. They see what they have, not what they lack.
If they stumble, they don’t decide they’re worthless. They tie their shoes or watch out for cracks and keep on with the race. They remember the times they did well, beat the pack, sunk the putt, hit the target, aced the test. They believe in themselves. They tell themselves “I can,” and “I will.”
They fly the banners of hope and high expectations. They eat optimism for breakfast and dine on their victories at night, and even if the victories are small, they find enough of them to make a satisfying meal.
Life is for the brave. It sings like a riot of trumpets for the ones with the daring and guts to keep going even when things are tough. And it sends happiness to dwell in their hearts and applauds them with standing ovations.
Wishing you a week of courage and joy.
Warmly,
Susan