Three Truths and One Wish

1. Truth: Life is beautiful.

Driving home the other day, I saw a large, golden mare standing in a field of grass, just down the street from my house. She was big enough to be a Clydesdale, but I don’t think they are ever that color. The sun rippled in her blonde mane as she bent her head to bite at the grass. Her person sat on the fence and watched her while a little boy rode past on his bike watching her too–all three of us, watching her, amazed. The sun was resting just at the top edge of the foothills, on its way down, washing everything in golden light.

And after work on Monday, after a long, hard day, when I was feeling completely exhausted and a little sad, I sat with Dexter on the couch, my head buried in his soft belly, feeling his heart beat against my forehead, and he bent his head towards mine, touching my face with his nose, and he sighed, and my whole body softened.

Looking into her eyes, having her look back, see me, both our hearts so open and grateful and brave, I tell her how thankful I am and that I adore her, our hands touch and tears fill both our eyes, even as we smile, our love and thanks a brilliant offering to the whole world.

Appreciating the gloriousness inspires us, encourages us, cheers us up, gives us a bigger perspective, energizes us. We feel connected. ~Pema Chödrön, Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living

2. Truth: Life is brutal.

This morning, while the dogs and I were walking, we heard the chaos and commotion of sirens, wave after wave, so it clearly was something bad. When we got back home, I went online and saw that someone’s car had gone off the road and into the river up the Poudre Canyon and one person had drowned. We had walked that morning along the same river where he’d died.

I saw a man sitting on the side of the road next to a Walmart shopping cart containing an army rucksack stuffed full. He was on the sidewalk in the shade, drinking a beer. When he got up, it was clear he was drunk, he stumbled and almost fell over, and then staggered down the sidewalk, clutching his beer in one hand and steering the cart with the other. I wondered where he was going, what was in his bag, who loved him.

Every person who has ever gone to prison, been an addict, broken a promise, or made a mistake was once loved by someone, probably is still, someone who can’t understand “how this happened” and doesn’t know what to do, who grieves and suffers and wishes.

And cancer. All the chaos it causes, the hearts it breaks, the suffering it generates.

On the other hand, wretchedness–life’s painful aspect–softens us up considerably. Knowing pain is a very important ingredient of being there for another person. When you are feeling a lot of grief, you can look right into somebody’s eyes because you feel you haven’t got anything to lose–you’re just there. The wretchedness humbles us and softens us… ~Pema Chödrön, Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living

3. Life is precious, because it is both beautiful and brutal.

Life is glorious, but life is also wretched. It is both… Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us. They go together. ~Pema Chödrön, Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living

One Wish: That even though we all have to take the hurt and the harm with the radiant and the wonderful, we know the preciousness of each moment, every breath. We feel the tender heart of sadness, but we keep it open, we stay mindful and present, not wanting to miss a single minute of it. And that we know we are basically good, that kindness and wisdom are always there.

1. Truth: You can’t do everything. Knowing this, there are decisions to be made. At first, this was easy for me. I had accumulated a lot of unnecessary clutter, and a few too many toxic people. In those first innocent days of simplifying, it was really clear what to stop doing, what to get rid of, who to avoid. Getting rid of all the should, have to, obligation, pleasing and performing, striving to be perfect, being bullied, and negative energy was easy once I got started. It was clear when saying “no” was really saying “yes” to something else, something more important and meaningful. Like Austin Kleon suggests in Steal Like an Artist:

image by austin kleon

It got harder when I had to start choosing between two things I wanted and loved, when I only had the time, space, and energy for one of them. That’s NOT so easy. Everything left after the first round of elimination is all desirable and loveable, worthy of my time and attention, but I can’t do everything.

2. There is enough time, and time is short. This seems like a brain teaser, and yet the truth of it is so clear. We all know exactly what it means. We don’t need to push, we can relax, but impermanence is real. This video is a perfect illustration of this truth.

Lotte Time Lapse: Birth to 12 years in 2 min. 45. from Frans Hofmeester on Vimeo.

3. Rest and relaxation are key, to balance out all the working and effort. I need to fully learn this, embody it. I need to learn to rest, to slow down, maintain balance. I am headed for a collapse if I don’t, and soon. I need to learn to use my brakes, stop and refuel. I need to pace myself, check myself before I wreck myself.

One wish: That we can all get boring and find the time, space, and energy for what we love most, and let go of what’s no longer working, and RELAX into what is, where we are, as we are, and never forget that gentleness is our superpower.