[blockquote source=”H.E. Davey”]“The undiscovered is not far away. It’s not something to be found eventually. It is contained within what is right in front of us.” [/blockquote]

I’ve been having difficulties communicating through this past week – the result of a mish-mosh of medications that leave my brain, well…a bit ‘muddle-headed.’

It’s so very disconcerting when these moments occur; particularly, when there’s so much left in the heart to be said.

I thought about hiding away, of never (ever) communicating again. Such a silly thought, indeed – but even the most mindful of musers can succumb to the ‘bigness’ of things.

but, likewise a testimony that even the most mindful of musers can succumb to the bigness of things.

Oh, how easily we craft those towering castles out of a single grain of sand…

The difficulties I experience, were not so much the outward expression of thought into word, but rather – more so, an inability to keep pace with the heart’s desire to ‘take it all in.’

I’ve often likened mindfulness to a young puppy gleefully rolling around in the dirt. An awful analogy, I know – but one that stresses the relevance of this, our present moment. There are no boundaries between a dog and this earth; nothing impeding the sudden infusion of senses with the rich succulence of its surroundings. Neither is there any notion of time, nor qualification of ‘this is’-ness…

To a young pup – the earth just is.

And, this ‘is’ …is fullness enough.

My dears, that’s life…life just is. But, it is always our perception that defines our experience within it.

So, I stumbled a bit with respect to meaningful communication – it doesn’t detract from the mindfulness of the moment.

The cardinals shall always visit my trees, and the butterfly will inevitably stretch its wings.

But, more important than anything else? Is that even the darkest clouds will gracefully yield to the light in each new day.

And, this life? My dears, is so very much better when we remember to roll around in the ‘is-ness’ of things…

In closing, I would love to share a passage from one of my favorite poems – “Solar Eclipse”, by Diane Glancy.

[blockquote source=”Diane Glancy”]

Solar Eclipse

Each morning
I wake invisible.

I make a needle
from a porcupine quill,
sew feet to legs,
lift spine onto my thighs.

I put on my rib and collarbone.

I pin an ear to my head,
hear the waxwing’s yellow cry.
I open my mouth for purple berries,
stick on periwinkle eyes.

I almost know what it is to be seen.

My throat enlarges from anger.
I make a hand to hold my pain.

My heart a hole the size of the sun’s eclipse.
I push through the dark circle’s
tattered edge of light.

All day I struggle with one hair after another
until the moon moves from the face of the sun
and there is a strange light
as though from a kerosene lamp in a cabin.

I pun on a dress,
a shawl over my shoulders.

My threads knotted and scissors gleaming.

Now I know I am seen.
I have a shadow.

I extend my arms,
dance and chant in the sun’s new light.

I put a hat and coat on my shadow,
another larger dress.
I put on more shawls and blouses and underskirts
until even the shadow has substance[/blockquote]