The Fifth Day: REST!

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ENOUGH
It’s enough to offer love,
no matter how imperfectly
received or given. It’s
enough to try and fail at
a difficult task; enough
to fall and rise, stumble,
fall again, sigh, and start
to walk, however slowly,
in the direction the soul
points. It’s enough to
seek peace and find pain,
to gain nothing but a
vision of truth, and take
the long route home.
 
It’s enough to feel
temptation, the dance
of the senses, the hot
pull of desire; enough
to call on God, walk
through fire, sleep and
cry and fear or welcome
dying. It’s enough to be
and breathe, to feel the
touch of wind on the skin.

It’s enough to take the
day as it comes, to watch
the ripples on the lake as
the rock sinks to the
bottom, to see the wild
reflection of the surface
calm into a mirror once
again. It’s enough to
hear the voice of fear
and hide—or seek it out
and face the same
or shadows. It’s enough
to set out to tame demons
and watch them multiply
instead. It’s enough to
be buffetted by the winds
of change and not blown
over. I and you and all
of us, more than enough.
Danna Faulds

I’ve been moving a lot over the last week. In fact, I added up the miles and I have driven over 2600 in the last 10 days. Last Thursday I was sitting with the irrepressible, rambunctious, wildly-spirited Nancy Aronie on Martha’s Vineyard. I had just finished her Writer’s Workshop, reeling off the high of an encounter I can only describe as other-worldly. Nancy has this way of affirming the truth of who I am in the moment in such an unobstructed, generous yet completely audacious way, that I find myself irrepressibly bubbling every time I am around her. She scoops me up at the end of the workshorp, pressing me hard against her long lanky body and whispers in my ear: “Nurture your magic. Don’t worry about your audience. And let yourself be brilliant softly.” And then she lets me go….

So today I rest, with my mother in Wayzata Minnesota, amongst the things that have been in my life my whole life. Oh, there’s the Beatrix Potter collection, all the characters standing at attention, shiny, facing forward, a plant that she has carried from home to home to home to home for almost 40 years, my father’s childhood bed, Miss Twiggley’s Tree. Some things do inform the essence of who I am; swirling and soothing and exploding in my sub-conscious memory, inviting engagement with a past I felt I knew, bearing witness in a new way. How wonderful to see Miss Twiggley anew, no longer eccentric, but a community builder; inviting all of her frightened neighbors to seek refuge from a storm in her sturdy tree house, no longer alone, her ark of hope full of new-found friends, high above the water line.

There is so much hope in a changed perspective, in taking my legs up the wall in the comfort of my mother’s home. Practicing gentle yoga as I listen to her soothing voice calm my somewhat ruffled edges with a gentle suggestion to rest, trust the process, believe in my own brand of magic. I am renewed.

And that is enough for today, to simply rest, in love with my mother and Miss Twiggley, to still my sometimes over-exuberant heart, and let the gentle light pour forth.

About livebig365

Join me as I dive in to the deep end of the pool and challenge myself to live big and love big. What does that mean? In 2012 , I accepted the invitation to push myself beyond my comfort zone, at least once a day, and engaged and responded to my life, or a given situation in my life, in a way that would normally scare the hell out of me. Why did I do it it? Because it was time time to begin, and I was ready! Each day brought a new revelation, lesson, challenge, encounter, a teaching moment, that revealed to me that living big and loving big are uniquely interconnected. Welcome 2013, the year of lovebig 365. Each post was an expression of love experienced, witnessed, inspired, manifested. It didn't always make sense in the moment, and yet its sheer mystery hopefully evoked a beautiful affirmation of life and all of its shimmery brightness; broken up, lovely to behold, tender and full of purpose. 2014, jagged, bumpy, disjointed posts. 2015, silence, and plenty of growth within that silence. Manifesting 2016: The creation of a gathering place for gratitude. Join in the wavering, audacious, unequivocal fun. 2017: Reflection 2018: POWER, MAGIC, TRANSFORMATION
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