Listen ~ 5 minutes we mark things with numbers 50, 5, 200 on your birthday I think of you a Beloved baby held with delight celebrated celebrated again and again as the years pass your smile your laughter the beauty of you that you bring to the world the way that you offer it the way that you have offered it to me and how much that has made me who I am in this moment on your death day I remember the moment of the last breath the way you exhaled like a kiss to the universe and then succumbed and that I continued to hold your hand in gratitude for all that you had been to me for the way you offered your gifts to the world and the ways that shaped who I am in this moment and we’ve gathered many, many times this community, these beautiful beings who come to connect, to offer love to bring gifts together and to offer them to each other and to the world and we remember the gathering we remember the ways we have been touched by this and how much this has made us who we are in this moment why do we mark birthdays count years gone by count footprints in the snow breaths gathering to remember to remember ~
Twice each week I hold On-line Healing Circles centred on evocative and deeply healing guided meditations. Join me Monday mornings at 9 a.m. and Thursday evenings at 7 p.m. pacific. Learn more at the Good Vibrations: the Energy of Resilience facebook page, check out the Healing link on this site or drop me a note by e-mail. I always love to hear from you.
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When beauty opens her arms Stop in your tracks pull over run back and dart through traffic perch on the edge of the drainage ditch braced against the drag of passing trucks and fall into her embrace ~ Beauty is everywhere. Often in our lives it seems we are on the move from here to wherever we are going, so focussed on the road or on our thoughts that we miss the world unfolding around us. It might not be a spectacular scene where the mountain is both beautifully lit and the sky clear enough to see it. It could be a dandelion growing by the path, a colourful splash of graffiti, live music or bird song heard through your kitchen window, the sound of rain on an awning as you walk down a city street. My invitation is simply to pause, to notice. Like taking time to focus on breathing, it draws you into the moment, heightens your awareness for beauty and delight. We all have had an experience of being appreciated and know how good that makes us feel. Although it may seem like there is no one receiving the recognition, the energy of it filters out. It also filters in. Try it and see if it isn't so. Then send me a note sharing your experience. I love hearing from you. ~
Twice each week I hold On-line Healing Circles centred on evocative and deeply healing guided meditations. Join me Monday mornings at 9 a.m. and Thursday evenings at 7 p.m. pacific. Learn more at the Good Vibrations: the Energy of Resilience facebook page, check out the Healing link on this site or drop me a note by e-mail. I always love to hear from you. We are trained to look past the window. Portals through which to see out. And in. Most often we overlook the glass. What might we find if we take a moment to observe the thing we think of only as means, if considered at all? What might it teach us about the world? ~
Centred on evocative and deeply healing guided meditations, Kimiko holds On-line Healing Circles Monday mornings at 9 a.m. and Thursday evenings at 7 p.m. pacific. Please join us. Learn more at the Good Vibrations: the Energy of Resilience facebook page, check out the Healing link on this site or drop her a note by e-mail. With a sheath of snow, the world looks so beautiful. As it does in the glory of greenery. But this in-between time as the quilt of white becomes worn and threadbare and the frozen, sodden grass wears through the clean, fresh cover, this is not so lovely. It’s another of those in-between times, a transition. And I feel like I should pay more attention. I’m inclined to try to ignore it, sit here by the fire. Not because it’s so cold out. It’s just. . . a bit unpleasant. Muddy, patchy ground. Slush. Not so frigid as the deep winter, but somehow more chilling, more grey. I’m happy to hunker in and ignore it. Yet today, as I sit here hiding away, I sense that there’s something profound going on that I’m missing. Each movement of the seasons is important. Metaphorically as in nature. We tend to highlight the highlights ~ the pristine beauty of fresh snow, glorious colours of cherry blossoms and rhododendron, sunshine and abundant gardens, and the glory of trees just before the orange and yellow leaves fall. That and critical events like fire and flood. Those same kinds of moments are what we also focus on about our lives. Yet so much of life is movement through transitions. The in-between are their own season. The melt time, the browned and rotting petals, burnt grass and starkness. And it’s not even that there is no beauty at these times, more that we have to shift our gaze to see it. We learn to see what is, not what is no longer. There can be green grass and snow. We just have to figure out how to walk in it. This space of thresholds is sacred, delineating places, acting as portals between moments and dimensions. But in nature, in life, unlike in houses, they’re more than brief passageways. More like a hallway than door jam, although even a door jam is significant. So I am looking at this like a passageway. At basic, passageways get us from one place to the next. Ideally they are honoured in their own right and invite us to observe their unique beauty, their invitation to consider their place in time. They guide us between two moments and to reflect on the significance that may hold. What will be revealed as the snow melts? What thrives in mud? Who am I as I walk toward that door? ~
Centred on evocative and deeply healing guided meditations, Kimiko holds On-line Healing Circles Monday mornings at 9 a.m. and Thursday evenings at 7 p.m. pacific. Please join us. Learn more at the Good Vibrations: the Energy of Resilience facebook page, check out the Healing link on this site or drop her a note by e-mail. |
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