A new Song

I’m a middle-aged white woman who decided it would be fun to ride my bike from our home to our church on a gorgeous spring morning to clean.  While I pedaled I began to sing made up lyrics and using my vocal instrument to sound out different tones and notes. This is really new for me!  I have believed the story that I have a horrid singing voice my entire life. Maybe you have a story you believe too and are coming to wonder how true it is.

I came across a few men with brown and black sking and they were very friendly in waving my way. I suddenly had a wave of shame wash over me. I was recalling a day when I was in my front yard in our primarily white neighborhood, maybe 10 years ago and a man of color was biking by in the middle of the day. And what did I think?

  • Why aren’t you at work?
  • Why are you here where you don’t belong?
  • Are you up to no good?

The reason I want to admit my thoughts is because we are all ignorant to so much of life and how our thoughts do not define who we are. We do not have the full light of awareness of God. We have been influenced and conditioned by society and its fears.  After 14 years of yoga and meditation I have come to make much of my subconscious conscious..bringing the dark into the light. It is the only way to grow and speak and act from love, from connection, from wisdom.

I hope you won’t judge me too harshly. I hope you’ll take an opportunity to contemplate the ways you have grown and realized something you once believed to be true is no longer true and you are actually a bit mortified. This is good!! This is what the world needs…for us to humbly admit our wrong-thinking without a whole lot of shame, moving from a moment of regret to surrending it to God.

I want to move and think and breathe and act the way love feels. I dont want to move and think and breathe  the way fear feels…we can only do this when we are honest about our having been conditioned, especially by prejudice in our own families. We can only ‘hear’ our own thinking with practices of mindfulness– or else we just go on believing our negative thoughts instead of realizing not every thought is rooted in truth. Most are not!

I like singing a new song. My song is one of hope that we can all grow and find our inner safety and not project our anxieties onto an innocent world.  Peace can be cultivated within but it takes practice and commitment to let go.

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Holy Water Tears

stretched wide across the chest

I send a deep breath beyond what’s pulled taut

into my low belly

where the ache lives (haunts)

much later, in stillness

the pictures flash across my mind

you and me

twinning

sisters, they’d say

whenever love’s torn in 2

the breach is gonna sear

So

I hand Her what feels burnt to a crisp

commanding SHE bring me closer to HER inferno

yes closer…I will not run

Just Dont allow my tears to put out

Love’s fire

Keep me blazing

with you

Burn down my resistance

to more LIGHT

Freedom is Not Free

resist the urge to scream

So. hard. to. be. thankful. for. these. dark. days

telling all

in confident terms

all is well

freedom’s at hand!

back inside

there’s no escape

a vice-like grip

on heart and mind

soul, like a specter

slipping through

bony, superhuman restraint

resist

resist the urge

resist the urge to scream

focus on blue sky

thy kingdom come…

in the luminous darkness

i remain

Teflon Girl

Insults hurled, barbs like arrows gaining speed
Far-flung language and under-handed jabs lobbed my way

Misfires? Maybe…

Makes no matter—I am Teflon Girl

The criticisms and hurts are only a mirror if I’m holding one

They no longer represent my Truth

Only That which serves the Highest Good in Me sticks

The oft-reported shortcomings have nowhere to land
Slipping and sliding into oblivion

I am Teflon Girl

Sturdy like armor, protecting what is of value
Preserving and insulating like a chest-full of that stuff
My heart beats on

I am Teflon Girl

It’s 5 O’clock Somewhere

http://its5oclocksomewhere.libsyn.com

 

Have you enjoyed these daily offerings of mind, body, breath practices?  I hope you’ll give it a try and be sure and let me know how you feel afterwards.

The title was inspired by Matthew 20 (the parable of the workers) when the landowner pays all them the same amount at day’s end, regardless of the amount of work done. We are all equally God’s children and my calling is to relay this message of Grace, forgiveness and Love which bubbles up from within our very own hearts.

Enjoy!!  Be at Peace

Anita Grace

Smilingheartyoga.org

Just a couch, just a carpet

I don’t want to sit up straight to type and think from my elongated spine, aligning my head, heart and guts. I don’t want to shift from this slouch, merging with my new dark gray sectional in my recently renovated family room, where the only family left here most of the year is my husband of 25 years. But I need to tell you about this bubbling up of truth around my being a Christ-follower. I see HIS signature mercy, grace, presence, heart-welling up everywhere and that makes me a Sufi. I don’t like labels. I do like the word eschew..but how is that pronounced anyway? I wont’ pause the quick-fingered tapping at these keys to find out though.

And yet, I know I eschew labels…restrictions on my Self or my self. I am integrating so many parts of my Self/self lately that I am in a state of allowing. Allowing this couch to swallow me up into her puffy enveloping softness. All the selves, right here, right now…melting together. This is exactly what my self needs today. I am listening as she sighs, ‘yes’ to the no effort.

So here we are…can you see us, this 5 foot 5 inch breathing thing? You can’t really differentiate the parts because they’re smooshing down and together. Getting lost in and among themselves. All except those fingers, tap tap tapping away. Inhale….Exhale.

Earlier I was a few feet away from this spot on the new area rug, all swirly with oceanic colors and flowing designs. I needed her to hold me. The ocean. The womb. The color blue.
I was falling apart and I knew she’d let me.

She wouldn’t ask me to pull myself together. She wouldn’t command me to stop my incessant crying. She’d absorb the tears into herself…making more of her, less of me. More of her…less of me. Like a mantra now. I am one with you- carpet as ocean. Ocean as womb.

I am no longer Anita the one who can’t stop the flow of pain, the flow of tears, the flow of remembering. I am in the ocean of pain, the sea of tears, the womb of comfort.