Tag Archives: Jamie Ridler

Wishcasting Wednesday

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from jamie’s post

What do you wish to express?

Kindness, compassion, love, always and in everything.

Grief. Instead of collecting, hoarding, hiding it away, carrying it around forever and always, quiet and invisible but deadly like a cancer, I wish to breathe it in and then out, feel it fully, share it, give it the time it needs, and then release it, allow it to dissolve, let go.

Wisdom, the kind that comes from stillness, quiet, space. An intelligence that is organic, natural, authentic, vast and deep.

Joy, to share it, sing it, inspire it in others, burn with it.

Wellness, health in body and mind, an open and strong heart, a core, a center that is solid and balanced.

Courage and confidence, authenticity and strength that is of benefit, that eases suffering.

Mindfulness and awareness, being fully present, showing up with an open heart, willing to be with reality as it is, rather than rejecting it or wishing things would be different.

Gratitude, my life as a prayer of thanks–for this opportunity, this grace, this love, this day, this moment, this breath.

Story. I have a story to tell (or two, or 1000) that will hopefully help, an expression of my experience, my most hard won understanding, the most tragic and tender truth.

Wishcasting Wednesday

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picture from jamie’s post

What do you wish to make room for?

Myself. I am outwardly focused so much of the time (what I have to do for my paid work, what I want to communicate on my blog, what my tiny family needs, what I want to share, what my body requires) that I forget myself, deny myself, abandon and reject myself.

Meditation practice. It’s the thing that gets cheated in a day that’s too busy, when I’m overwhelmed, but it’s the thing that is medicine, a cure and comfort to those conditions.

My hungers and core values. This is an ongoing shifting and clearing to make room. I can get caught up in should and external expectations, in pleasing, perfecting, performing, and these important, deep desires get squashed.

Joy. This hurts to admit, makes me so sad, but I am caught right now in a cycle of dread, panic, and depression, and I’m not allowing for joy. I either “don’t have time,” am too tired, or am so focused on and upset about the bad stuff I can’t see beyond it, can’t see past its shadow. I wish to make room for laughter and light, for softening into appreciation, for joy.

Rest. I’m still so bad at this. I carry a mental to-do list with me everywhere, heavy and long, adding to it and updating it constantly, pushing and doing and going. I wish to make room for relief, relaxation, rest, time to do nothing, accomplish nothing, restore.

Connection and service. These are so deeply wed, so closely joined that I don’t even know how to wish for them separately. I wish to notice and be noticed, to help and belong, to offer love and be loved in return.

Grief. I wish to make room for this profound sadness, the heartbreaking loss, to open up to how big it really is, how vast, to allow it to fill the space it fills.

Uncertainty and impermanence. Instead of rejecting, trying to control, wishing things would be different, I long to open the door, make room for this truth.

Love. There could always be more room for this–the answer to every question, the true and deep longing underlying every other wish ever made.