Maybe I’m meant to be a giver, as that seems to motivate me–to give time, listening, energy and money to others.  I’m being mentored to sit and give to myself, which i find difficult, tiring and even boring.  I wonder why that is.

I give to others who may be using me.  I feel taken for granted some times.  I say “no” more often too.  I practice balance as best i can–imperfect at best–normal human I guess.

Today I have a task, so i feel a purpose.  It is extremely short sighted, office politics spurs me on to be noticed and organize a project.  i notice and appreciate any motivation these days.

Now off to wash, despite my inner argument to pass on a shower.  I feel like a cat that is forced to be dunked in a lake each day–I growl deep in my throat and threaten to slice the hand that washes me. 

i lean back into the Hands of the Dear One, as She giggles at my restless irritable self!

Living at concordance with the flow of life–that seems to be the Way.  But I feel out of the flow somehow.  Like I’m stuck in wirey bushes along the edge of the river.  I can hear the rushing flow and the soft gurgle, but every time I move I seem to be stuck.

So I don’t move.  I know I am safe.  I don’t want to die.  Watching a dear friend wrestle with that old waiting ghost chills me–wondering about the sum of my life.  Judging myself and then finding the hole beneath my feet widening like quicksand of despair.

Ick.  I need to get out of this spot!  So let’s be grateful that I am not in prison for another 5 years, pulling spirit out of hidden books and slinking in the background from loud dangerous people.  I am grateful for a rewarding job–in that I get paid well.  I feel needed at work, and since I’m a codependent that is useful.  I have a comfortable home life.

And I yearn for the whisper of my God.  Be still and know that I Am.  Today I will listen more for her sweet Song.

How can I keep my heart open as the sky?  Letting clouds, storms, even days of dreary rain just be rain?  What would work to hold my mind as free as the earth–allowing mud, earthquakes, and spring to do what it will with my body?

Somehow it would mean giving up this idea of trudging with the pouting resentment, or sludge of emotions dragging me down.  A goal and purpose more than the next trip I suppose, that reaches beyond the uselessness that clouds my vision at every turn.

Ok Sweet One, I call on your Presence.  Rock me softly as I lean on Your purpose–to feel life and love through me.  Bless us as I allow you to feel this wandering around what looks like a dead end, hoping so much that my heart opens up to Your Sky.

Thank you forever for the spring bird at dawn.

Do your work, then step back.
The only path to serenity.   
(TTC #9)

“Step back” is the key phrase there.  I do my work and let it be.  I can’t continue to put a stroke here and there on a painting that cries for release.  My children no longer can be guided, but cheered as they go on their Way.  A seed once planted does not need my coaxing fingers.

Nothing encourages spring but rain.  Seasons evolve as the world turns toward or away from the sun.  My mind–my dear human born brain–is guided by my heart that yearns for comfort.  My head is too-filled with headlines, admonishments, politics and pleasing others for the illusion of survival.

My heart giggles with the birds who rise before dawn chattering their excitement that we all turn to face warmth after every sleepy dark night.

Just a note before I go into the day. 

I watched the dawn this weekend.  My quarterly tribute to every ancient celebration of the season.  I laid out the labyrinth, walked it with my shadow teasing the dear welcome sun.

Let me feel the dawn each moment I reach for it.  The clear brisk air from the lake.  The solemn mountains waiting to bow to the light.  The shimmering lake moving like a river.  The brilliant bustle and trilling songs here–there–up–soaring of the birds who rise to sing the sun up from her rest.  The hawk who appeared solid and unmoving in the far tree; then disappeared suddenly.

The eternality of morning.  May it enlighten my heart.

Sure haven’t found that to be true early in the morning.  I want to let go of the day before it starts and be “fulfilled” in more sleep in the cozy bed.  Doesn’t seem to work that way.

Each day I walk the tightrope balance between surrender and next right action.  People come right up to me for solutions; i rarely have to wait long for this prompting.  There are times I make the call to suggest a pathway–sometimes I get a nod, other times shot down.  Risky business life.

But it is just life.  On a planet with billions of lives, the risk is smaller than the most indistinguishable atomic substance that supposedly is at the center of all reality.  The smallest is the center–there’s a hope.

So today I will look to the tiniest word, look, phrase, to be centered.  A paper once from a great towering tree.  A pen that brought hundreds of people together in manifestation.  Flowers on my desk reach out from another universe speaking brilliance and acceptance. 

My centered body once more relaxes into my spirit.

How can they thrive in me at the same time?!?  I must be human.  One minute meditating on the brilliance of a pure bright daffodil, the next wanting to scream at someone’s incessant coughing.  Here sitting in a wake of spiritual reading, there fighting obscure corporate politics.

What were we thinking to combine dirt with such lofty angelic hearts?  Why did we jump at the chance of life with the sure ending of death?  How is this the adventure we sought as bored angels? 

Dunno.

But surely I need to make the best of it, as sitting in the fear of endings, the worry of pain, the negative anticipation of loss is just simply not enjoyable.  There are just too many daffodils.

Recognizing a peculiar lack of passion, I am allowing the Way to lead me.  I walk the Path, same as always, with less control, determination or fierce habit of doing.  I sit and wonder often.  I wait until the next action comes up to my feet and kicks them into movement.

I am plagued with “not good enough” “not doing enough” “why bother” and a specter of laziness.  This sitting and waiting for the next right action exposes all my cultural and family myths and rules. “if you can’t do something right, don’t do anything at all.”  “If you need something to do, help someone else.”  And the deep old belief that my purpose in life is to bring goodness to others.

It’s like old blood being drained out of me and new blood transfusing.  Still I am slow and being me just for me. 

So I lean on the Goddess and Main Man within me.  Holding both hands of stillness and power, brilliance and comfort, we walk the Path.