Last Updated On December 4, 2016
Some folks got a light around them that shine for other peoples. I think that maybe some of them was in tunnels, and in that tunnel, maybe the only light they had was inside of them. And then, even long after they escaped that tunnel... They still be shining for everybody else. -Push by Sapphire
With less and less daytime hours available and more of those available obscured in cloud cover, I have felt the need to become lighter. If you long for light, be the light, or at least be lighter. I am beginning to recline from the purposeful forward lean of Fall into the swirling rotation of snowflakes. I join my children, enjoy their laughter. I give them gifts. I’m gentle with my husband. I’m subdued, quieter, preparing for the soft padding of an insular winter. It seems like staying light should be easy but it takes effort to stay present, to let go, to accept the other side of outward focus.
Quantifying everything’s worth in terms of productivity can be deceiving, I don’t believe this is unproductive time. No matter how dissynchronous it may seem with the outside world of busyness and striving. This is just a different flavor of productivity, more private, less directive. My efforts are more intuitive, responsive, diffuse. I’m less concerned with next steps or how things are going to play out. Lists and deadlines are taking a backseat to my own rhythms. I’m blessing my home. I’m sending love notes. I’m making it sound like I’m making a conscious choice but really, I require this fall back and my needs take over. I’m just not capable of being *out* and creating all the time. I’m in awe of people who can. And I treasure the ping of recognition with kindred spirits who can’t.
If I don’t give in to my times of light stepping, I get strained and overwrought. The world bruises me. People blind me. Its hard not to fall into self-criticism during these times. I don’t know why I can’t be driving things to fruition and hosting things and offering things and participating in things all the time and progressing quickly and getting a lot done. I can only sprint for so long. I worry that I’m a disappointment or a waste. How hard do I push? But maybe, its these expectations, this kind of negative self talk that requires letting go. Maybe this is what necessitates my light walking. To return to essence. To connect with the stars on these long winter nights. To collect fuel for the freeze.
For now, I stop pushing. Its not the season for that. Either I will do it (whatever *it* is) eventually or it will lose its relevance over time. Not everything is a test of character. Not everything is a reflection of flaws or documentation of shortcomings. Its the season for light stepping, for accepting, embracing, and recognizing the light in what is.
When I ask my son what he wants to do, he often responds that he wants to go to the mall. I audibly groan. Our mall suuuuucks. Why? I am disappointed that he doesn’t have a better answer. I’m frustrated that my answers never seem good enough for either of us. I’m annoyed that I always have to have the answers because *someone* is not carrying their weight with their incessant mall suggestions.
So I decided to let go. Instead of running mall interference, I would respectfully include a mall outing into our weekly schedule. He needn’t even ask. I don’t need to know why. A conversation or decision isn’t even required. And once my defenses were lowered I started to notice that in reality, the reality that does not include my preconceptions of what we should be doing, our mall trips are actually quite nice. I begin to relax into strolling conversations and food court card games. We get dollar chair massages and look at coming attractions posters and whisper to kittens at the pet store. He has ideas and enjoys holiday displays. I ask him again how he can NOT like Aunt Annie’s pretzels because it is just beyond my understanding.
And I wonder, what exactly was I working so hard to avoid? What other gifts will arise with luminosity in the dark winter sky with the letting go?
Last Updated On December 4, 2016
Some folks got a light around them that shine for other peoples. I think that maybe some of them was in tunnels, and in that tunnel, maybe the only light they had was inside of them. And then, even long after they escaped that tunnel... They still be shining for everybody else. -Push by Sapphire
With less and less daytime hours available and more of those available obscured in cloud cover, I have felt the need to become lighter. If you long for light, be the light, or at least be lighter. I am beginning to recline from the purposeful forward lean of Fall into the swirling rotation of snowflakes. I join my children, enjoy their laughter. I give them gifts. I’m gentle with my husband. I’m subdued, quieter, preparing for the soft padding of an insular winter. It seems like staying light should be easy but it takes effort to stay present, to let go, to accept the other side of outward focus.
Quantifying everything’s worth in terms of productivity can be deceiving, I don’t believe this is unproductive time. No matter how dissynchronous it may seem with the outside world of busyness and striving. This is just a different flavor of productivity, more private, less directive. My efforts are more intuitive, responsive, diffuse. I’m less concerned with next steps or how things are going to play out. Lists and deadlines are taking a backseat to my own rhythms. I’m blessing my home. I’m sending love notes. I’m making it sound like I’m making a conscious choice but really, I require this fall back and my needs take over. I’m just not capable of being *out* and creating all the time. I’m in awe of people who can. And I treasure the ping of recognition with kindred spirits who can’t.
If I don’t give in to my times of light stepping, I get strained and overwrought. The world bruises me. People blind me. Its hard not to fall into self-criticism during these times. I don’t know why I can’t be driving things to fruition and hosting things and offering things and participating in things all the time and progressing quickly and getting a lot done. I can only sprint for so long. I worry that I’m a disappointment or a waste. How hard do I push? But maybe, its these expectations, this kind of negative self talk that requires letting go. Maybe this is what necessitates my light walking. To return to essence. To connect with the stars on these long winter nights. To collect fuel for the freeze.
For now, I stop pushing. Its not the season for that. Either I will do it (whatever *it* is) eventually or it will lose its relevance over time. Not everything is a test of character. Not everything is a reflection of flaws or documentation of shortcomings. Its the season for light stepping, for accepting, embracing, and recognizing the light in what is.
When I ask my son what he wants to do, he often responds that he wants to go to the mall. I audibly groan. Our mall suuuuucks. Why? I am disappointed that he doesn’t have a better answer. I’m frustrated that my answers never seem good enough for either of us. I’m annoyed that I always have to have the answers because *someone* is not carrying their weight with their incessant mall suggestions.
So I decided to let go. Instead of running mall interference, I would respectfully include a mall outing into our weekly schedule. He needn’t even ask. I don’t need to know why. A conversation or decision isn’t even required. And once my defenses were lowered I started to notice that in reality, the reality that does not include my preconceptions of what we should be doing, our mall trips are actually quite nice. I begin to relax into strolling conversations and food court card games. We get dollar chair massages and look at coming attractions posters and whisper to kittens at the pet store. He has ideas and enjoys holiday displays. I ask him again how he can NOT like Aunt Annie’s pretzels because it is just beyond my understanding.
And I wonder, what exactly was I working so hard to avoid? What other gifts will arise with luminosity in the dark winter sky with the letting go?
Last Updated On December 4, 2016
Some folks got a light around them that shine for other peoples. I think that maybe some of them was in tunnels, and in that tunnel, maybe the only light they had was inside of them. And then, even long after they escaped that tunnel... They still be shining for everybody else. -Push by Sapphire
With less and less daytime hours available and more of those available obscured in cloud cover, I have felt the need to become lighter. If you long for light, be the light, or at least be lighter. I am beginning to recline from the purposeful forward lean of Fall into the swirling rotation of snowflakes. I join my children, enjoy their laughter. I give them gifts. I’m gentle with my husband. I’m subdued, quieter, preparing for the soft padding of an insular winter. It seems like staying light should be easy but it takes effort to stay present, to let go, to accept the other side of outward focus.
Quantifying everything’s worth in terms of productivity can be deceiving, I don’t believe this is unproductive time. No matter how dissynchronous it may seem with the outside world of busyness and striving. This is just a different flavor of productivity, more private, less directive. My efforts are more intuitive, responsive, diffuse. I’m less concerned with next steps or how things are going to play out. Lists and deadlines are taking a backseat to my own rhythms. I’m blessing my home. I’m sending love notes. I’m making it sound like I’m making a conscious choice but really, I require this fall back and my needs take over. I’m just not capable of being *out* and creating all the time. I’m in awe of people who can. And I treasure the ping of recognition with kindred spirits who can’t.
If I don’t give in to my times of light stepping, I get strained and overwrought. The world bruises me. People blind me. Its hard not to fall into self-criticism during these times. I don’t know why I can’t be driving things to fruition and hosting things and offering things and participating in things all the time and progressing quickly and getting a lot done. I can only sprint for so long. I worry that I’m a disappointment or a waste. How hard do I push? But maybe, its these expectations, this kind of negative self talk that requires letting go. Maybe this is what necessitates my light walking. To return to essence. To connect with the stars on these long winter nights. To collect fuel for the freeze.
For now, I stop pushing. Its not the season for that. Either I will do it (whatever *it* is) eventually or it will lose its relevance over time. Not everything is a test of character. Not everything is a reflection of flaws or documentation of shortcomings. Its the season for light stepping, for accepting, embracing, and recognizing the light in what is.
When I ask my son what he wants to do, he often responds that he wants to go to the mall. I audibly groan. Our mall suuuuucks. Why? I am disappointed that he doesn’t have a better answer. I’m frustrated that my answers never seem good enough for either of us. I’m annoyed that I always have to have the answers because *someone* is not carrying their weight with their incessant mall suggestions.
So I decided to let go. Instead of running mall interference, I would respectfully include a mall outing into our weekly schedule. He needn’t even ask. I don’t need to know why. A conversation or decision isn’t even required. And once my defenses were lowered I started to notice that in reality, the reality that does not include my preconceptions of what we should be doing, our mall trips are actually quite nice. I begin to relax into strolling conversations and food court card games. We get dollar chair massages and look at coming attractions posters and whisper to kittens at the pet store. He has ideas and enjoys holiday displays. I ask him again how he can NOT like Aunt Annie’s pretzels because it is just beyond my understanding.
And I wonder, what exactly was I working so hard to avoid? What other gifts will arise with luminosity in the dark winter sky with the letting go?