These are confusing times. That’s part of the reason I think so many of us are turning toward writing and art, toward nature and bread making (I know that was so last year for many); we are turning toward something we can understand. We are turning towards the nourishment of the life sustaining as an antidote to the fear and lack of solid ground.
It’s a good thing.
It can be easy in front of a place of vast expanse, like an ocean or a mountain range, to be humbled by nature, but the birds have reminded me to be in awe everywhere. Be in awe downtown, be in awe in suburbia. Be in awe in the forest, and be prepared for the unexpected and let awe be one of your defaults.
When things are confusing, we can contract. When we try to grasp for control rather than understanding we slip. You cannot stop the moment. You cannot control the pulse of life. You have to let it move through you. Let it guide you to the knowing that this is a moment to focus in or fly away. Life expands and contracts simultaneously or at least inter-connectedly.
One morning I am sitting there sipping my beloved morning coffee and wondered what the hell is actually going on? Between you and me, something is amiss. Right? There are serious uncertainties afoot and we can feel them. We can sense them – right? So what to do? WHAT TO DO? I silently yelled at the sky, and catbird flew by, across the porch on her way.
I thought about how birds move between worlds. How they soar to the sky and float above it all, and yet, when needed swoop right down to grab their breakfast, or the makings of a new nest, hop about and tilt their heads at the rest of us.
They stay above the fray. They are very much of the world but not mired in it.
They stay keen to the Earth for nourishment and sustenance, yet they soar in their perspective and dance on the wind. They exist in both. They land and fly. This was my answer. This was what I could do. This is what I am choosing to come back to again and again, and let my actions and alignment ripple outward in consciousness to make change.
It’s enough. Authentically living, I promise you, is enough.