~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
One by one, the leaves decide.
Who will go first? Who will hang on?
Who will be the last to go?
Already there were some who could not resist
the chance to fly, to ride the wind,
to be free of any restraint, to sail birdlike
on the wings of air. Most waited,
savoring the familiar view, savoring
its changes. There was no right or wrong.
Time would tell them when to fly.
And time, the creek told them,
has a way of doing things
in exactly the right order.
Now come the golden days,
mornings filled with fog,
nights where cricket song
floats through crisp, cool air.
On the roads, yellow buses roll
past once more with laughing children
peering from their windows.
Goldenrod fills the meadow;
wild sunflowers line the creeks.
In the fields, beans, corn, pumpkins
and squash race toward their fruition.
And the fragrance and feel of it all wakes us,
and we turn the calendar’s page.
Let the nights grow longer.
Still, we will hold the sun.
Let the fierce winds blow
and the rains fall.
Usher in the cold.
We will hold the sun.
In memory of sweet summer,
until our days are done,
for the sake of your joy,
we will shine on,
beaming the glorious sun.
You never know when you set out
what your journey will bring.
Anything you can imagine
is possible, and then some.
It’s all a gift, you know,
a chance for you to explore
your choices, to decide who
you will be, and 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.
In days of sunshine and those
of trial, whether by happenstance
or choice, life sends us the gift
of companions for our journey,
spirits to walk beside us, to share
our laughter and our tears,
our stories and our silences.
Some stay only for moments,
bringing a word, a look, a smile.
Some come, then go, then reappear.
Some walk beside us for long miles,
for lifetimes, and maybe more.
Love, after all, never dies.
And it is Love that sends them,
these companions, that each of us
may know that we are never truly alone.
Here’s where the deer lie,
sheltered by sycamores,
cooled by the green leaves
of tall wild sunflowers,
the sun filtering down
to kiss their pelts with warmth.
This is the place they dream of
in winter, the place they sing of
in lullabies to newborn fawns
in early spring when they
lick their soft hair and promise
them tomorrows filled
with flowers and sunshine.
A couple decades ago, I began my online writing career with a now-defunct site called “The Magical Mirror Machine.” It was a continuation of a paper newsletter of the same name that I sent to people who signed up for it at The Mind’s Eye, a metaphysical bookstore and art gallery that I ran at the time.
The premise of the Magical Mirror Machine is that the world reflects back to us exactly who we are.
I remembered it this week when a bout of introspection got me to thinking about the way that we often criticize in others the very shortcomings that we’re most blind to in ourselves. If we paid attention to what the Magical Mirror was showing us, we’d have a good idea where we could use a course-correction ourselves.
Try it out. The next time you catch yourself criticizing somebody, think about what you want them to be that you believe they’re not being. Then ask yourself in what ways you are guilty of the same thing.
It can take a little digging. If you’re nagging your roommate because he always leaves his socks on the floor, the Mirror probably isn’t saying that you should be neater yourself. (Although that might be the message. Are you always leaving globs of toothpaste in the bathroom sink?) Instead, the Mirror is often seeing through your surface complaint to a deeper issue.
It could be saying, for instance, that you wish your roommate would be more appreciative of the work you do to keep your environment clean and tidy. In other words, you want more appreciation for your contributions to the household. Hmmm. And just how appreciative are you of his contributions? When’s the last time you sincerely and specifically expressed your thanks for all he does?
The way the Mirror works is that what you put out, it reflects back. If you want to get back something different, try putting it out. If you want to be listened to, listen more. If you want more affection, give more of it.
But don’t forget to look at the merit that the Mirror shows you as well. When you’re keenly interested in something, the Mirror is hinting at one of your strengths. When you’re enjoying making something, it’s reflecting your creativity and skills. When you notice how kind people are, it’s reflecting your own kindness. When you’re laughing, it’s showing you what you enjoy.
And it’s these kinds of messages, the positive ones, that will tell you what will truly enrich your life. Notice when the Mirror is reflecting your best traits, and cultivate those. Learn what makes you happy, what touches your heart, what makes you feel strong and capable and confident, and make a point of doing more of those things.
We always get farther by cultivating our strengths than by trying to fix our weaknesses. And once you know what your strengths truly are, you can draw on them to guide you the next time the Mirror shows you a place that needs a little polishing.
Wishing you a week where you brilliantly shine!
Warmly,
Susan
The Yes sends its blessings through corridors of light
and they fall, ever so silently, on the heart’s soft ground.
Walk gently, dear child, and feel your heart respond.
Feel it rising in hope and renewal. Feel it leaping with joy.
Even when you walk through thick forests of doubt,
the light will find you. It knows your name;
it gave birth to your soul.
Walk in peace, my child.
You are known, and seen, and loved.
From out of the darkness
the gold bursts forth in
fiery, rayed blossoms
that sing of the power
of the sun, blazing life,
brimming with joy,
dancing to the song
of the ever-burgeoning Yes.
Away with your dreams
of barren endings. This Now,
bathed in late-summer perfume,
abuzz with bees, is all there is,
and its sun will travel with you
into all of your tomorrows.
Deep in the woods, the vines
turn crimson. But the river
still holds summer’s green
with its pungent scent
and its emerald flowing
and its warm and peaceful
song. Here, flowers still blossom
along the banks, the bees still
float from bloom to bloom.
And we pull it all inside us,
to keep, forever, this sweet
incomparable green.