"Let choice whisper in your ear and love murmur in your heart. Be ready. Here comes life." ~ Maya Angelou

UPCOMING EVENTS

"Whenever you are creating beauty around you, you are restoring your own soul." ~ Alice Walker

THIS MONTH'S POEM

The House of Belonging
by David Whyte

I awoke
this morning
in the gold light
turning this way
and that

thinking for
a moment
it was one
day
like any other.

But
the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
and
I thought

it must have been the quiet
candlelight
that filled my room,

it must have been
the first
easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep,

it must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.

And
I thought
this is the good day
you could
meet your love,
this is the gray day
someone close
to you could die.

This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next
and I found myself
sitting up
in the quiet pathway
of light,
the tawny
close grained cedar
burning round
me like fire
and all the angels
of this housely
heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.

This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging.

THE HOUSE OF BELONGING

It can be hard to remember that each day (like each of us) is unique and unrepeatable; that when we tap into the truth of uncertainty and impermanence, we can feel a deeper sense of belonging. This seems to be what happens for the speaker in David Whyte's poem. He wakes up and initially thinks that this day is a day "like any other." But he soon recognizes that there's no such thing; that each day brings mystery and possibility. It's a day that could bring great joy or deep grief (or both). This realization seems to open him to the truth of "how easily the thread is broken between this world and the next." It can be uncomfortable, but we can choose to turn toward this, too ~ to let the reality of impermanence and uncertainty tenderize us and give us an experience of belonging that is not dependent on what anyone else does or offers. We all live with this; it's a condition of our lives. So, we can recognize our common humanity in the tenderness of this day and all that we don't yet know about it ~ and all that we don't yet know about ourselves.

In the poem, David Whyte talks about how he wants to love all the things it has taken him so long to love. When I read that, I couldn't help but wonder what those things were ~ himself? uncertainty? aloneness? impermanence? It's an open question for him, and perhaps for us, too. I hope this practice supports you in finding a deeper sense of tenderness toward yourself and a deeper sense of belonging, today. 

To begin, find a quiet time and private place where you won't be disturbed. Get into a comfortable position, either sitting or lying down. Close your eyes either partially or fully. 

If it feels right, put a hand on your heart or some other soothing place. Doing this as reminder to bring not just awareness but kind, loving awareness both to yourself and to your experience. Take three breaths ~ on the inhale, breathing in compassion, on the exhale, breathing out whatever gets in the way of compassion.

With your hand on your heart, continue to breathe. Feel the sensations of breathing. Notice how your chest rises and falls. Letting your breath guide the way to arriving more fully in this moment. Recognizing that it's hard to see the uniqueness and unrepeatable-ness of this moment, this day, yourself. In some ways we'd rather see this day as an interchangeable part in the assembly line of our lives. In some ways, we'd rather see ourselves as separate ~ when we see that way, it doesn't feel so vulnerable.

Seeing if you can open to being a little more tender with yourself today, a little more tender with life today. If you don't feel open to that, you can continue to breathe in compassion, and breathe out whatever gets in the way of compassion. Just staying present with your breath, and going back to it whenever your mind starts to wander. Knowing that just acknowledging how hard it is to be vulnerable is a powerful and important practice. Just breathing with that can be enough. If it feels right, you can practice with that phrase: "breathing right here is enough." Repeating that over and over to yourself.

If you do feel open to being a little more tender with yourself today, then putting a hand on your heart, and repeating silently to yourself: "this is where I want to love, all the things it has taken me so long to love." Continue to repeat that phrase silently to yourself.

Notice how you feel in your body. If you notice that you feel some discomfort, see if you can turn toward that sensation with kindness. Remembering that it belongs, that tenderness is part of life; it doesn't mean that you're doing something wrong. Continuing to repeat the phrase if it feels right: "this is where I want to love, all the things it has taken me so long to love."

Recognizing that your willingness is loving. Your willingness itself is loving. The House of Belonging is right here. In this moment. It's not separate from aloneness and uncertainty. Aloneness and uncertainty are the walls and floors of the House of Belonging. When you feel those feelings, you are deeply connected to the heart of your humanness, and you are deeply connected to all other living beings.

And then, for now, letting go of this phrase. Noticing how you feel in your body. If there's an area of discomfort, imagining that you're wrapping that area in a warm towel. Remembering that it belongs. Reminding yourself that it's ok to feel this. It doesn't mean that you're doing something wrong.

When you feel ready, let go of this focus on sensation and bringing warmth to your discomfort, and sit quietly in your own experience. Notice how you feel. As best you can, allow yourself to be just the way that you are and to feel however you feel. And then as you feel ready, gently open your eyes.

You may like to journal about this experience ~ what was it like to open to uncertainty and impermanence this way? What did you notice? How did you feel when you repeated the different phrases to yourself? Were you able to turn toward your discomfort with warmth? Were you able to recognize your willingness as loving? ❤️

"We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond." ~ Gwendolyn Brooks

THIS MONTH'S PLAYLIST

(songs that remind you to be kind to yourself)

"Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane." ~ Anne Lamott