New Dawn, New Day

Last night, just before early bed, I read a friends caring bridge journal entry: making great strides on a recent-onset debilitating illness, she wrote of seeing what life she can build with what she can still do.  I was humbled; clearly her eye is on opportunity, not just on limitation.  She is facing, and embracing, the challenge of remaking her life.

This morning, waking in early light, lime green covers strewn about, an inner call stirred, demanding that I get up.  Not sure what or why, I sensed it was a moment to say yes.

Finding vertical, I was greeted by a golden ripple of cloud filling the eastern sky, bouncing dream light up off the awakening lake.  Sun radiated through the glowing mass of clouds and connected with rain clouds downstream, setting off rainbows lifting from the lake.

Snuggling in my host’s fleece jacket, wrapping a beach towel over my bare legs, I grabbed my camera and headed for the dock.

Standing there, surrounded by light, I listened. What else did the knowing that pulled me awake have to say?   “Do not be afraid.”

Writing now, wind lifts fresh curls off the waves as dawn flows into day, and the lightest shower eases in, giving moisture to this breath of air, this message feels like:  Learn to write with abandon once again.  This whole glorious cacophony of light and wonder is at your back.  Set yourself free.

What else could one long for, than this aliveness, this beauty, this now?

Yes to listening.  Yes to honoring that voice within that leads with precision, pulling from slumber of all kinds.  Yes to remaking our lives in this changing world, facing, and embracing, whatever challenges emerge along the way.

“When it’s over, I want to say I have been a bride married to amazement, I’ve been a bridegroom taking the world into my arms.” – Mary Oliver

Tonight, I stepped outside after my first yoga class in twenty years.  I had opened tight places I did not even know I had.  As I left the studio, I was relieved that I could still walk!

What really caught my attention though, as I stretched my limbs out the door into this far northern night: stars. A whole sky–full.

Our gorgeous north Idaho summers succumb to long winters of clouds. Our ski mountain loves the snow, but I miss that deeply expansive sight of night sky.

Maybe it was 90 minutes of intense yoga. (I’m in great shape. I looked at the class schedule and forgot my twenty years away…)
Maybe it was the two weeks that have passed since I last saw a sky full of stars. (Here in our remote county, when there are no clouds, we truly see stars. There are many more stars than people… or lights to block the night sky!)
Maybe it was too-long winter hibernation.

I don’t know what it was.

But I do know what happened as I stepped outside, seeing the Big Dipper, Orion, the Pleiades, and the other Winter constellations:
I did not feel like I was 120 +/- odd lbs, standing on a cold stab of north Idaho sidewalk.
Instead, I felt as wide as that sky.

I felt as if time stretched back to my earliest memories of stars…night sailing off Cape Cod, my family singing lullabies….

And my strongest memories… sleeping river-side, sleeping bags encrusted in silvery frost, under endless stars on the cactus-bound Mexican border …

or my favorite memories… tracing winter constellations among the green and pink swirls of northern nights, on the Canadian border, as sled dogs slept, nose under tail…

It was as if, in that moment, all those times, and all those places, existed, all at once.

If I had a label, it would be mystical.

In that moment, I felt the whole wide universe welcomed me. I felt completely Home. I felt, in every cell, as if I belonged.

I’m not complaining… and I will go back for more yoga!

What helps you know, in your bones, that you belong?

We know simply that nothing is static, nothing is absolutely predictable, and nothing is certain.

L. Robert Keck, Sacred Quest

Last night, I flunked fire duty.

On retreat with 8 other women in the pine-filled hills of eastern Washington, I was positioned for my favorite role; sleeping by the wood stove and stoking it periodically through the night.

I flunked. I slept right through. But it was worth it. This morning, small flakes of snow filling the pine expanse outside, I got to watch someone else lay and attempt to light the fire, and I knew, in that moment, that another “fire lighting as life” blog post would be born.

Here’s why.

Well-meaning but not used to lighting a fire without paper or other fire-starter, she laid all the kindling and wood in place, lit the match, and then…. hoped.

Luckily, she was open to help; using the spark of flame she had started, I patiently fed slivers of wood right into the openings of flame and air, until we had enough flame for her pre-laid wood to catch….

There was this poignant moment though, watching her newly lit flame, with nothing to burn, nothing to engage.

Many of us lay a fire as we build a life; we get all the pieces in place, all the plans and dreams all lined up, then we light the match, and expect the fire to feed itself…. The life, the dreams, the plans to bloom.

Yet, to what degree is life truly like that?

When our fire-building supplies are plentiful, when we are truly skillful and have mastery over our materials, we can build the fire this way… lay all the pieces in one place and trust the upwards flow to catch carefully placed materials into flame.

Think back five years, ten years, twenty. What delightful surprises exist in your life now that were not even on your radar back then?

When we live in the present moment, we can notice everything. We can appreciate all that is good, all the new possibilities that we can kindle into new fires. We can feed our dreams. Some lay dormant for years… waiting for the moment to ignite.

Today, wake up. Look around at your life.

What new possibility is waiting to be born???

“The most important thing to remember is this; to be ready at any moment to give up what you are for what you might become.” 
—W.E.B. Dubois

“Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.”

Buddha

In my north Idaho January grey, with its subtle beauty and stunted daylight, flame becomes my lifeline to the sun. When I take the time, I build my woodstove fire as I aspire to live my life:

I mindfully choose slivers from wood I have split, with full attention, and just one match. I best align flame and fuel, and lovingly feed just the right wood into just the right opening to coax flame into fire.

No fire starter, no newspaper. This method takes presence, gentleness, and patience. With that first tiny tongue of flame, my full attention reveals to me where to place the next piece for maximum gain.

Stewarding the smallest flame into full bloom in this way connects me with the primal force of fire itself. It also connects me with hope. Through the power of attention and full presence, so very much is possible.

This morning, I lit my fire my preferred way. I feel more alive, and more grateful.

I wonder where else in my life, in my urge for speed, am I missing fuller, deeper satisfaction. What about you?

To live this way, this slower, deeper, richer way, I need to step back, explore my life, and choose: what will build the best fire in me? Where do my passions lie? What do I care about now? What does the world need? Just as flame and fuel come together to create a bigger fire, I have found the same is true for me; the better I can align my passions and gifts with my sense of what is needed in the world, the brighter I become.

As humans, we have this unique ability to vision something, to lay the foundations, and nurture our vision into reality. We have the ability to lead, learn, and grow.

A newly lit fire can easily be suffocated under too much fuel. Too often though, we suffocate our dreams under the weight of our past.

To help you re-kindle your own flame, consider:

What will help you step back, reflect, and listen to your own heart? What can you do to create an oasis of calm in which to connect deeply within yourself?

Who is the deepest part of you? “Who is the you that you have left behind in the midst of all your responsibilities?” Describe who that person is.

When have you been most deeply satisfied in your life? Felt most alive? Most powerful? Most Connected? Most creative? Most at peace?

What do these answers reveal about your deep nature?

When you live from your deep nature, what calls to you? What is “your world” that you are discovering?

“At your core, you know who you are,

and you know what you want.”

Lao Tzu