On bird wings

Spring is in full force.  All the trees now wearing their new leaves. As I worked in my garden, I found myself watching a pair of mockingbirds in courtship.  How their wings fluttered a certain way as they moved from tree to tree in some sort of dance.  I had not realized what a vast array of songs they could sing.  It was like listening to an old AM radio station. A throw back to when music was not played by any specific genre. Such an unexpected delight.

My corona anniversary date came and went without much ado or time for reflection.  What I did notice was that this past year has required an insane amount of flexibility.  Some days and months going from 100 mph to a complete stop and then back to 100 mph.  It has felt like whiplash to me.  My inbox became overflowed with appointment requests from folks who now feel safe after they have gotten their vaccines. I can honestly say, “I did not see this coming.”

So, as I revisited each client’s chart, I found it had been almost one year to the date since our last session. What a homecoming March turned out to be. A welcome back of so many to the bodywork table. It has also made me realize how different each of our pandemic fatigue looks like. How we all grieve for different things that we have lost over this past year.  How there are just so many days when it is hard to find any traction to get things done and some days you just have to root yourself down.

Here is a poem I return to in times when I just need to stop for a moment and take notice. It has truly helped me thru things I have not been able to process this year.  It is my hope it will offer something similar for you.

Birdwings
Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror
up to where you’re bravely working.
Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,
here’s the joyful face you’ve been longing to see.
Your hand opens and closes, and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open
you would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence
is in every small contraction and expansion,
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as bird wings.
–Rumi

As always, in gratitude to you for taking a moment to check in with me.

To Let Go

These words from Louise Hay are my ‘go to place’ when I am feeling overwhelmed about the care of a client or a loved one.  My hope is that you too will find some comfort in the words of such a wise woman.  I also try to remember that the lotus flower grows up out of the murky pond, and so can we.

 

To “let go” does not mean to stop caring, it means I can’t do it for someone else.
To “let go” is not to cut myself off, it’s the realization I can’t control another.
To “let go” is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To “let go” is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To “let go” is not to try to change or blame another, it is to make the most of myself.
To “let go” is not to care for, but to care about.
To “let go” is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To “let go” is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.
To “let go” is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own destinies.
To “let go” is not to be protective, it is to permit another to face reality.
To “let go” is not to deny, but to accept.
To “let go” is not to nag, scold or argue, but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To “let go” is not to adjust everything to my desires, but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.
To “let go” is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.
To “let go” is to fear less and love more.
Louise Hay

“It’s all about where your mind is at.” —Kelly Slater, Pro Surfer