It’s that time of year, if you’re fortunate, you might find time to consider the glass… half-full, half-empty, tarnished, cracked… or sparkling with promise, bubbles, fizz and excitement…
As Em and I walked the dog this morning across the frozen field we commented on how Christmas changes as things change. Sometimes the glitter of youthful promise is exciting and wonderful. Getting older, the joy of the saged sparkle might be simply… delighting.
“Anyone who wants to partake in mudita can… In the theatre of happiness, there is no limit.”
“It only takes a second, a flash of consideration…”
“Letting go is a direct route to space (literally) and stillness…”
“You are the sky. Everything else, it’s just the weather…”
“Don’t be the glass, become the lake…”
“Become more like water than a rock…”
The insights above come from an intriguing book I read recently, by Jay Shetty “Think Like a Monk”.
The Rig Veda says “When there is harmony between the mind, heart, and resolution then nothing is impossible”
The thinking above, coupled with my fledgling attempts at the local yoga class have brought me closer to something new.
“The only thing that stays with you from the moment you’re born until the moment you die is your breath…” Jay Shetty
Yes, we still have to chop wood and carry water. After Christmas we’ll still need to chop wood, carry water. No matter how much we discover, we are never free of daily details and routines. But noticing some glitter or sparkle along the way might be a way of seeing past the weather.
“Each thought, each action in the sunlight of awareness… becomes sacred. In this light, no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane.” Thich Nhat Hanh
As my yoga instructor shares at the end of a session…
Go, with…
The mind’s good thoughts,
The mouth’s kind words,
And the heart’s honourable intentions…
There’s plenty of weather ahead… Don’t fear it. When buffeted by winds, we might respond to pressures and agitation by growing stronger, breathing deeper, and standing with renewed intentions.
From the grip of night, let the sun rise free.
Jules P Richards 