Learning to Fly

Playing in the present

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Sun, 30 May 2010 01:19:00 +0000

None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to understand the things that happen to us. Close the door, change the record, clean the house. Stop being who you were, become who you are now.

~ Paulo Coelho

I'm watching my son as he rediscovers a toy. He's older now, more developed, and so the toy appeals to him in a new way. He's incredibly excited about it, as if it's a new plaything just given to him for his enjoyment today. Sometimes I simply marvel at him, at how everything is so new and exciting to him, even when it technically isn't. Each moment he experiences makes up such a huge percentage of his life-to-date, but that doesn't phase him; he is still completely present in each moment. But perhaps even more amazing is that he comes to each moment fresh. He has a memory -- that is evidenced by his surprise when something doesn't do what he expects it to -- but somehow he is still open to having a new experience.

I can learn so much from this little light who has chosen to grace my world. In these first ten months of his walking (now literally) this earth, most of the lessons have been about staying present. This fresh example is an especially vivid one for me today, because it is reminding me of how much baggage we bring into each situation we find ourselves in, and how rarely we are interacting with just that moment. There is so much freedom, so much JOY, in coming into the moment fresh and experiencing it for what it is.

This is especially important when we deal with other people, but oh so challenging. Can you imagine what it would be like if you interacted with your partner, your parent, your boss, your sibling as if experiencing them for the first time in each encounter? You could see them for who they are in that moment instead of whichever version of them you carry inside of you. It is so hard for us to let others be new, to change our image of them, but every day, every experience, changes us a little. Some experiences have larger and longer lasting effects than others. I know I'm still surprised by the changes I find in myself since becoming a mother, and probably more surprised by some of the things that haven't changed, but some of the things that are different about me today have subtler causes. I'm like a fine wine, mellowing with age. :)

I'm not completely sure what the takeaway here is for me today. Like most things, it isn't that this concept is new, but it feels more real, more accessible somehow. Perhaps the way that my son is my guide is by showing me things that I'm ready to (finally) learn. More likely, it's that my learning is cyclical, and I'm open to the next bit of opening up along my "staying present" axis. Whatever it is, I am ready to embrace another aspect of change in my life. As Heraclitus said, "Change is the only constant." And as I like to say, enjoy the ride. Namaste.

Photo: "Birthday Present," originally uploaded by Lachlan Hardy

The Soul Goes Dancing

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 14:39:00 +0000

Spring is here, and with it all the new beginnings that the buds on the trees offer. You can feel the energy shift in the air as people, responding to the earth's changes, begun to unfurl themselves. I stumbled across this gem of Rumi's this morning and it seemed so appropriate to how I'm feeling: "Nothing can stay bound or be imprisoned." Aaah . . .

The Soul Goes Dancing

~ by Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

Did you hear that winter’s over? The basil

and the carnations cannot control their

laughter. The nightingale, back from his

wandering, has been made singing master

over the birds. The trees reach out their

congratulations. The soul goes dancing

through the king’s doorway. Anemones blush

because they have seen the rose naked.

Spring, the only fair judge, walks in the

courtroom, and several December thieves steal

away, Last year’s miracles will soon be

forgotten. New creatures whirl in from non-

existence, galaxies scattered around their

feet. Have you met them? Do you hear the

bud of Jesus crooning in the cradle? A single

narcissus flower has been appointed Inspector

of Kingdoms. A feast is set. Listen: the

wind is pouring wine! Love used to hide

inside images: no more! The orchard hangs

out its lanterns. The dead come stumbling by

in shrouds. Nothing can stay bound or be

imprisoned. You say, “End this poem here,

and wait for what’s next.” I will. Poems

are rough notations for the music we are.

~Rumi

From: The Soul of Rumi

Photo: "Spring Blossoms," originally posted by Noel Zia Lee

Alan Cohen quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 20:00:00 +0000

Simply be who you are, do what you do best, be where you are called by joy, and let life work its magic on your behalf.

~ Alan Cohen

Creativity Explosion!

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 17:40:00 +0000

I just love how much my creative juices are flowing right now! The new year brought a bubbling up of ideas that hasn't really stopped. While I don't necessarily have time to act on these ideas, I'm still spending an hour or two a day nursing, which means me and the baby in a dark room with minimal stimulus -- ideal conditions for creative flow. I absolutely love being plugged in and just allowing things to flow out of me. It's almost like an idea faucet -- once the faucet is on, it flows all the time. I'm taking notes in meetings, when I get out of the shower, in the car. It's a beautiful thing!

The year kicked off with the idea for a book. And then another book. And then last week a third book came to the surface. When I set my goals for the first three months of the year, I included "complete book outline," thinking I knew what that meant. Well, I'm very excited to say that I have completed a book outline as of today -- just not the one I had in mind in January!

The great thing is I'm getting to practice what I preach. I may not have hours that I can sit down and "work on my book," but I do have a few minutes here and there to take notes. Sometimes those notes are really brief sketches so I will remember what I was thinking later. Other times they are full and complete paragraphs. In an amazingly short amount of time I've thoroughly sketched out what I'd like for this book to include, taking notes for each of the eight chapters, and even written a few paragraphs for most of the chapters. This it the ultimate in taking things one moment at a time, not getting caught up in what tomorrow will bring, and redefining what it means to get things done. Booyah!

Wish me luck on this new creative journey. I may not know exactly where it will lead, but I sure am having fun in the meantime! Namaste.

Photo: "Crayola Lincoln Logs," originally uploaded by laffy4k

Rumi quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 20:00:00 +0000

Don’t go off sightseeing.

The real journey is right here.
The great excursion starts

from exactly where you are.
You are the world.

You have everything you need.
You are the secret.

You are the wide opened.
Don’t look for the remedy for your troubles
outside yourself.

You are the medicine.
You are the cure for your own sorrow.

~Rumi

Lessons in expectation

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 13:43:00 +0000

Parenthood is most definitely the hardest best thing I've ever done. While I have never doubted my decision to become a mother, I have doubted just about every other decision I've made, whether it's about returning to work full-time, living in one of the most expensive places in the country, or even moving into a two-story townhouse. Wherever I am in time or place, I almost always can be thinking of at least one other thing that I'd either rather be doing or feel like I should be doing.

It's enough to drive me over the edge -- and it did this week. I completely lost it, sobbing hysterically for about twenty minutes and continuing to have bouts of weeping periodically throughout the day until the emotion had finished draining from my body. It was an incredibly freeing experience. I realized I had been carrying around with me all of these expectations -- mostly of myself -- and every time I didn't live up to one (which was practically constantly), it was adding a small burden. Those small burdens had multiplied until I was nearly crippled beneath their weight. The release of emotion enabled me to drop that weight, and it was like I was suddenly filled with helium -- I felt so light yesterday I was nearly giddy.

Nothing had changed in my external experience. If anything, yesterday was an even crazier day -- not only did I have back-to-back meetings, I had overlapping meetings, and a doctor's appointment that included my second blood-draw of the week. When I went to pick up a prescription last night, I found out I have a deductible on brand-name scrips, and I had to spend over $100 to get this one out of hock. My response? Laughter. I walked through the day so lightly that I actually enjoyed myself. I let go of my expectation that I would get anything done, and somehow found the time to be productive in the midst of all of the meetings.

I have to laugh at myself for how many times I've had to learn this lesson the hard way. But until I truly *get* it, I suspect it will continue to keep coming up. In the interim, I'm enjoying my newfound lightness, and the way it enables me to stay fully present in my time with my son. And nothing could be a greater gift than that.

Photo: "when expectations are reversed," originally uploaded by psyberartist

Thoreau quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 19:00:00 +0000

Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake.

~ Henry David Thoreau

Recalibrating

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 12:54:00 +0000

My little boy is 10 weeks old. It's hard for me to imagine it sometimes, even though I've been living and breathing his development for the past year. It feels like he has always been with me, yet he is brand new. Motherhood is a natural progression for me, yet a huge shift in the way I live my life. This adventure is a daily experience of the divine dichotomy.

It's as if I'm having to relearn how to ride a bicycle. There is definitely a part of me that has never forgotten how, that flows effortlessly, that rises to any and all occasions, that is connected to Source and grounded in Gaia and in sync with my son and my center and the Universe. But there is also a large part of me that is tongue-tied, lost in the woods, feeling my way around in the dark.

Someone recently described parenthood as the hardest best thing they have ever done, and I have to agree. It is at its hardest when it is three o'clock in the morning and I can't figure out what my baby needs and I feel completely alone and like the world's biggest failure; and it is at its best when (sometimes five minutes later) the right thing clicks and his face lights up and he smiles up at me with such pure joy and my heart just sings.

Everyday I feel more surefooted, more self-confident, and those hardest moments become fewer and farther between. But those joyous moments, where it's as if I have wings, are getting closer and closer together as he learns a little more each day about this human he has come here to be, and I learn more about myself in this new role as his mother, his guide, and his student. He is such a divine gift, such a divine teacher, showing me the ways of love and life and laughter and light in ways I never even dreamed possible.

I thought I was prepared for this journey, but I have to say, I am living the idea that life is what happens when you're making other plans. And that's okay. I am excited to see where this journey will lead. I may not always have time to write about it, but I am learning to be okay with that too, and I will share what I can when I can. Balance is coming, of that I am certain! Namaste.

Photo: "Apple Blossom," originally uploaded by Jonathan Gill

Emerson quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 19:00:00 +0000

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Waiting

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 16:03:00 +0000

"I'm a lover of reality. When I argue with What Is, I lose, but only 100% of the time."
~ Byron Katie

It’s less than a week until my due date. While it feels like I’ve been pregnant for years, if I went into labor today, the baby would still be early. Time is definitely an illusion here towards the end. The good news is, we’ve gotten quite a bit done in the past couple of weeks. The amazing thing is how much there is (and always will be) left to do. I am definitely reminded of Abraham: "We are all on a perpetual cycle of joyous becoming. We will never get it done, ever, ever, ever, ever." So while we aren't "done," we are ready. The car seat installation has been inspected (and approved). The hospital bags are (mostly) packed. We’ve lined up a friend to take care of our cats for us while we’re at the hospital. My birthing bracelet is complete, and beautiful! We have diapers, a bassinet for the baby to sleep in, baby clothes laundered and ready. It is all coming together.

What is left is the intricate waiting game of pre-labor. Unfortunately, I’m not handling it as gracefully as I might have liked. I pulled a muscle in my side last week—in my sleep, no less. My feet and calves are so swollen it feels like I’m lugging watermelons around. Every day it seems like my body finds some new and interesting way of throwing me a curve ball. I'd love to say that I view each new thing as part of my practice—and sometimes I do, although usually it's after the fact—but for the most part I'm falling into the dangerous practice of living in the future, wishing I were somewhere I'm not.

I know that my practice for labor will be surrendering to the moment, accepting whatever happens, truly living "it is what it is." What I wasn't expecting was how much that would need to be my practice heading up to labor. As usual, reality is different from my expectations, and I have a choice about how to handle that. Some moments I fall into a funk, upset that I'm unable to get very much done. Other moments, I recognize that I need to start where I am, and that may mean I spend the day with my feet up, or it may mean that I get to run some errands or unpack a box or two, or I may be able to do a little of both. But whatever it is, it is exactly that—no more, no less. Finding peace with that is my daily and indefinite challenge.

And so here I find myself, in the rhythm of the unknown, celebrating my practice. As John Lennon sings, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." So today I choose to focus on that life that I am living, what that life really is for me today, and allow everything else to fall into place in its own time. It's all we can ever do, really, but there's nothing quite like having it show up for you rather literally to make you realize what life really is all about. Enjoy the moment. Or not—it's up to you. But this is the moment where your life is being lived. How does it feel? Namaste.

Photo: "It was summer she walked into...," originally uploaded by Gordana Adamovic-Mladenovic

Eleonora Duse quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 19:00:00 +0000

If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has power to move you, if the simple things of nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive . . .

~ Eleonora Duse

Agnus Dei

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 13:02:00 +0000

I've been listening to this piece of transcendent music over and over again for a week now. In the midst of some major changes at the office on top of preparing for maternity leave and having an incredibly exhausting third trimester, it has been a bit of a crazy week. But every morning when I first open up my web browser, this piece opens up and fills the room. My brain may already be buzzing with all the things I have to do today, but this music almost instantly brings me to a place of deep peace, a place of true grace. I feel open, connected to source, and incredibly alive, all at once. And all those thoughts just slip away, leaving me refreshed and ready to take things one at a time. This is the kind of music I am passionate about -- the kind of music that moves you, that transforms you, even if just for a moment. Aaaah . . .

Song: Choral version of Agnus Dei sung to Samuel Barber's Adagio for strings (Op. 11)
Performed by: The Choir of Trinity College
Album: Barber's Adagio

Photo: "Coral," originally uploaded by Fran Villena

Saint Augustine quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 19:00:00 +0000

Imagine if all the tumult of the body were to quiet down, along with all our busy thoughts . . . Imagine if all things that are perishable grew still . . . And imagine if that moment were to go on and on, leaving behind all other sights and sounds but this one vision which ravishes and absorbs and fixes the beholder in joy, so that the rest of eternal life were like that moment of illumination which leaves us breathless.

~ Saint Augustine

Choosing peace

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 13:43:00 +0000

There is no way to peace. Peace is the way.
~Mahatma Gandhi

I don't have a lot of public speaking experience, but I have had the pleasure of giving a handful of talks over the years. One of my earliest was on "choosing peace," a concept that continues to come up for me from time to time, and always resonates. What I am remembering this week is that peace is the bottom, underlying truth of just about everything. When we desire something, often what we are truly desiring is to have more peace in our experience. When I desire a greater experience of prosperity in my life, is it really just that I desire more money? That desire might be specific -- say, to be debt-free -- but what does having more money ultimately give me? A sense of peace surrounding my finances: no need to worry, the knowledge that I can cope with whatever comes my way, the freedom to make choices from a place of trust instead of that place of "have to." When I desire more time, am I really looking for more hours in the day? I'm looking to feel productive, to not be rushed, to know that it is all getting done with plenty of time to spare -- I'm looking to feel at peace.

I think most of us are comfortable with the idea that the manifestation of our desires brings peace, but I think the truth is that being at peace is what brings about the manifestation of our desires. Peace is a choice that can be made regardless of the circumstances. Once you accept what is, accept whatever is up for you in this moment for exactly what it is, without judgment, and especially without condemnation, you can find peace with it. You don't have to be debt-free to feel at peace with your finances. You don't have to have plenty of time to complete your project in order to feel at peace with whatever the outcome is. You choose the peace first, which lays the foundation for your desires to be made manifest.

This week, this concept is cropping up everywhere. Most prominently, it is playing out at my office. There is a lot of change taking place, some ostensibly for the better, some ostensibly for the worse. Some of my co-workers have chosen to focus on the negative, and it is making them miserable. While I can see their perspective, I also know that I have been down that path before -- I know where it leads, and I know that I don't want to go there. Instead, I am choosing peace -- choosing to find the good where I can, and where that method hasn't been working for me, to find peace with what is. The difference in our experience of what is happening is striking -- I am getting my work done, enjoying my work relationships, spending the bulk of my day smiling and laughing, and able to support others who are in need.

Thich Nhat Hanh says at the beginning of Being Peace, “If we are not happy, if we are not peaceful, we cannot share peace and happiness with others, even those we love, those who live under the same roof. If we are peaceful, if we are happy, we can smile and blossom like a flower, and everyone in our family, our entire society, will benefit from our peace.” This the choice that I am making this week -- choosing peace, enabling myself and those around me to experience that peace regardless of apparent circumstances. What choices are you making today? How can you make a different choice to create a different outcome in your life? Give it a whirl, see what happens. I can almost guarantee you'll be happy you did. Namaste.

Photo: "Peace," originally uploaded by momo

Rumi poem

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Thu, 28 May 2009 19:00:00 +0000

There is a community of the spirit.
Join it, and feel the delight
of walking in the noisy street
and being the noise.

Drink all your passion,
and be a disgrace.

Close both eyes
to see with the other eye. . . .

Why do you stay in prison
when the door is so wide open?

Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking.
Live in silence.

Flow down and down in always
widening rings of being.

~ Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

Aaah . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Thu, 28 May 2009 13:19:00 +0000

A friend of mine posted a quote from my dear favorite Hāfez this morning: "There are so many gifts still unopened from your birthday." I realized it doesn't matter what he's saying, it just makes my whole being open up, relax, and let go. I was moved to seek out inspiration from another Sufi this morning, Rumi. After a few minutes of surrendering to the perspectives of these beautiful mystics, I felt the challenges of this week fall off of me.

One of the biggest challenges for me this week has been shaking off some of the recent decisions made by this lovely state that I live in, California. First, there was the news that Prop. 8 (banning gay marriage) was being upheld, followed quickly by the governor's latest budget recommendation that includes, amongst other gems, cutting so much revenue to our state parks that 80% of them would have to close. After moving through my intial feelings of disappointment and frustration, I was able to find peace in the reminder that times of great change are often accompanied by chaos as the smallness and limiting beliefs created by fear are ultimately dissipated by the expansive, creative, loving energy of our ongoing growth. This snippet of Rumi's wisdom seemed especially appropriate to me this morning:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense.

From: The Essential Rumi, by Coleman Barks

Here are a couple of other treasures from the realm of Rumi's wisdom. I hope that they have a similar opening, expansive, releasing feeling for you today, and that your being can relax into the Aaah . . . . Namaste.

Moving Water
~ by Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

When you do things from your soul, you feel a river
moving in you, a joy.

When actions come from another section, the feeling
disappears. Don't let

others lead you. They may be blind or, worse, vultures.
Reach for the rope

of God. And what is that? Putting aside self-will.
Because of willfulness

people sit in jail, the trapped bird's wings are tied,
fish sizzle in the skillet.

The anger of police is willfulness. You've seen a magistrate
inflict visible punishment. Now

see the invisible. If you could leave your selfishness, you
would see how you've

been torturing your soul. We are born and live inside black water in a well.

How could we know what an open field of sunlight is? Don't
insist on going where

you think you want to go. Ask the way to the spring. Your
living pieces will form

a harmony. There is a moving palace that floats in the air
with balconies and clear

water flowing through, infinity everywhere, yet contained
under a single tent.

From: The Glance

This We Have Now
~ by Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

This we have now
is not imagination.

This is not
grief or joy.

Not a judging state,
or an elation,
or sadness.

Those come and go.
This is the presence that doesn't.

From: The Essential Rumi

Photo: "Sunset gateway," originally uploaded by Mirko Macari

Thaddeus Golas quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 22 May 2009 19:00:00 +0000

No matter what your spiritual condition is, no matter where you find yourself in the universe, your choice is always the same: to expand your awareness or contract it.

~ Thaddeus Golas

Awareness

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 22 May 2009 13:27:00 +0000

It's been a great week in getting ready for baby. We're now two weeks into our Birthing From Within childbirth classes, and I'm loving the discourse they trigger and the focus on how, really, this is a way of life, not just a way to approach birth. This week, we practiced non-focused awareness, a technique I had started playing with last year that I simply love. It's a way of noticing what's around you, what your body is experiencing moment-to-moment, without judgment.

You can practice this technique any time, anywhere, and the more you do it, the more easily you can slip into it. While it definitely works as a pain management technique, it also works as a walking meditation, something you can take into your day that increases your experience of the world and decreases your judgment of it. To begin, I recommend closing your eyes, and starting with a few moments of breath awareness. Then, allow your awareness to reach out from your breath. As I sit here, I can hear the whir of my computer fan, the singing of the birds outside my window, the music playing softly in the other room, the sound of my fingers striking the keyboard as I type, the difference between the sounds made by the letter keys and the space key. I can feel the cool tile underneath my toes, the edge of the desk cutting into my elbow, the support of the chair beneath me, the feel of my robe on my skin, the subtle movements of baby adjusting inside me. If I open my eyes just a smidge to allow some visual sensations entry, I notice the grain of the pine of my desk, the bright red of my mouse pad, the quality of the light in the room, the striking contrast between the white of the computer screen and the black of the rest of my computer peripherals.

The version we practiced this week includes cues, so your partner finds a rhythm and gives you cues to help you shift your awareness from one modality to another to help with the flow: Breath. Touch. See. Hear. Touch. Breath. Hear. See. And so on. At first, I found it distracting for someone else to determine my rhythm, but as I got used to it, I found it meant that my attention was always being brought to something new. This meant that I didn't end up "following" a single sensation. For example, we were using holding ice in class to give us a discomfort that we could practice with. The cue "Touch" inevitably brought my attention to the strong sensation of the ice in my hand at some point during that awareness cycle, but it couldn't linger there, turning from awareness into "Oh wow, that is really uncomfortable" into "Oh my god, that really hurts!" It was just another body sensation to be observed, much like the feel of the carpet under my feet or Sean's hand stroking my arm.

The best part was putting this into practice out of the blue when one night this week, I was feeling really nauseated, my body's response to being overtired these days, and I was complaining about how I felt like I was going to throw up. My attention was so tied into what I was feeling I was literally making it worse. Sean said "Breathe," and for a moment I was annoyed, thinking he was trying to dismiss what I was going through, but a beat later he said "See," and my whole body relaxed as I figured out what he was doing and went into my practice. Within a few seconds, the queasy feeling in my stomach was a non-issue. It didn't disappear, but I just wasn't paying it any attention. I was able to finish what I was doing from a place of consciousness, and enjoyed the remainder of my evening instead of being sucked into an icky place of not feeling well. Small example? Perhaps. But still a powerful reminder for me that this works when you practice it, and that life truly is a practice. Namaste.

Photo: "rain over street lights," originally uploaded by s m

Hāfez quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 15 May 2009 19:00:00 +0000

Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth "you owe me." Look what happens with a love like that--it lights the whole world.

~ Hāfez

The love of Hāfez

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 15 May 2009 13:36:00 +0000

This morning I'm feeling oddly peaceful. This week has been a gentler roller coaster, full of subtle ups and downs. I've woken up most mornings after semi-sleepless nights feeling angsty with my mind on overload, but even after another rough night of sleep, I woke up this morning feeling mostly empty and peaceful. It seemed like a good morning to fill up the empty vessel that is me with the love and connection that Hāfez offers. He is, as always, a breath of fresh air that sings to my soul. Enjoy.

The Only One
by Hāfez, translated by Daniel Ladinsky

From man’s perspective
In this intricate game of love,

It is so easy to become confused
And think you are the do-er.

But from God’s Infinite Certainty,
He always Knows

That He is the only One
Who should ever be put on trial.

From: I Heard God Laughing: Renderings of Hafiz

In a Handful of God
by Hāfez, translated by Daniel Ladinsky

Poetry reveals that there is no empty space.

When your truth forsakes its shyness,
When your fears surrender to your strengths,
You will begin to experience

That all existence
Is a teeming sea of infinite life.

In a handful of ocean water
You could not count all the finely tuned
Musicians

Who are acting stoned
For very intelligent and sane reasons

And of course are becoming extremely sweet
And wild.

In a handful of the sky and earth,
In a handful of God,

We cannot count
All the ecstatic lovers who are dancing there
Behind the mysterious veil.

True art reveals there is no void
Or darkness.

There is no loneliness to the clear-eyed mystic
In this luminous, brimming
Playful world.

From: The Subject Tonight is Love: 60 Wild and Sweet Poems of Hafiz

My Brilliant Image
by Hāfez, translated by Daniel Ladinsky

One day the sun admitted,

I am just a shadow.
I wish I could show you
The Infinite Incandescence (Tej)

That has cast my brilliant image!

I wish I could show you,
When you are lonely or in darkness,

The astonishing Light

Of your own Being!

From: I Heard God Laughing: Renderings of Hafiz

Photo: "Dancing on a volcano," originally uploaded by Amir Kuckovic

Annie Dillard quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Wed, 06 May 2009 19:00:00 +0000

How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.

~ Annie Dillard

Birthing

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Wed, 06 May 2009 12:26:00 +0000

Birth is not only about making babies. Birth is about making mothers -- strong, competent, capable mothers who trust themselves and know their inner strength.
~Barbara Katz Rothman

I suppose it is natural for me to have the concept of "birthing" on my mind these days. In 12 weeks, give or take depending on when the baby wants to arrive, I will be participating in a literal birthing of the new addition to our family. I'm shifting into a "preparing for baby" phase -- we started registering and figuring out what kinds of things we'll need before the baby arrives, and we start childbirth classes next week. My body is continuing to change in new and unexpected ways, and baby's movements are getting more consistent and pronounced.

But birthing has always been about more than the literal to me. One of my favorite songs is Far Far by Yael Naim, in which she talks about giving birth to yourself. For those of us who are walking the path of spiritual growth, the process of giving birth to ourselves is somewhat constant. There is always something "new" we're uncovering within and learning to show the world. This year that "newness" within that I'm uncovering is mostly about how the divine feminine shows up in me, and how I can share that powerful feminine side of myself with those around me. I am giving birth to myself as a mother, to myself as someone who truly loves her body (perhaps for the first time in her life) now that it is home to her child, to myself as I embrace being a member of the community of woman in ways that my masculine-focused energy used to reject.

We all have both masculine and feminine energy, and it balances (or imbalances) within us differently depending on many factors, like how we were raised, what we value now, what phase of life we are in, etc. I was severely out of balance on the masculine side of the spectrum for the first 30+ years of my life. While the pendulum has been swinging quite a bit towards the feminine, I have often felt that masculine energy still in dominance. This year is really the first time I've felt the balance shift towards the feminine. It doesn't mean that I'm rejecting the masculine energy within me, but it does mean I'm finally finding a way to balance those energies and to embrace my femininity as part of what makes me powerful, as part of what makes me Who I Am.

Mother's Day is this weekend, which is always a wonderful time not only to celebrate the women who gave us birth and the mothers we are close to, but also the feminine energy that lives within us. It is time to let go of the doing energy--we've already planted plenty of seeds-- and instead to celebrate our BEINGness, our unconditional love, our connection to Source, our connection to each other, our ability to allow things to open up and unfold. What are you in the process of birthing? "There's a beautiful mess inside... Take a deep breath and dive... I guess I'll have to give it birth... There's a beautiful mess inside and it's everywhere... Deeper than you ever dared..." Namaste.

Photo: "Viceroy on the Butterfly Bush," originally uploaded by Benny Mazur

St. Augustine quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 19:00:00 +0000

People travel to wonder at the height of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering.

~ St. Augustine

The way we stand

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 12:19:00 +0000

I love that Earth Day is celebrated with such vigor these days. Or maybe it just seems like that because so many of my friends on Facebook chose to proclaim their love and gratitude for Mother Earth this week. But it helped create a sense of celebration in me, anyway, and opened me up to that deep connection we all share with each other and with the energy of our beautiful planet. So really, it's no surprise that this morning I was drawn to that favorite of mine, Earth Prayers. And within this phenomenal collection of "prayers, poems, and invocations for honoring the earth," I was drawn to one of my favorite pieces of Susan Griffin's that speaks so eloquently to that connection. Enjoy, and namaste.

The way we stand, you can see we have grown up this way together, out of the same soil, with the same rains, leaning in the same way towards the sun. See how we lean together in the same direction. How the dead limbs of one of us rest in the branches of another. How those branches have grown around the limbs. How the two are inseparable. And if you look, you can see the different ways we have taken this place into us. Magnolia, loblolly bay, sweet gum, Southern bayberry, Pacific bayberry; wherever we grow there are many of us; Monterey pine, sugar pine, white-bark pine, four-leaf pine, single-leaf pine, bristle-cone pine, foxtail pine, Torrey pine, Western red pine, Jeffrey pine, bishop pine.

And we are various, and amazing in our variety, and our differences multiply, so that edge after edge of the endlessness of possibility is exposed. You know we have grown this way for years. And to no purpose you can understand. Yet what you fail to know we know, and the knowing is in us, how we have grown this way, why these years were not one of them heedless, why we are shaped the way we are, not all straight to your purpose, but to ours. And how we are each purpose, how each cell, how light and soil are in us, how we are in the soil, how we are in the air, how we are both infinitesimal and great and how we are infinitely without any purpose you can see, in the way we stand, each alone, yet none of us separable, none of us beautiful when separate but all exquisite as we stand, each moment heeded in this cycle, no detail unlovely.

~ Susan Griffin from Earth Prayers

Photo: "Path Through the Trees," originally uploaded by Tony

Guillaume Apollinaire quote

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn Sheridan) — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 19:00:00 +0000

Now and then it's good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy.

~ Guillaume Apollinaire