Nourishing Gratitude
Discerning what life is asking of me is always challenging, especially at significant turning points. I know there’s something I’m not “hearing” when there’s a sense of restlessness and discombobulation, with either so many ideas crowding in or with such strong procrastination that it’s hard to focus on tasks that really must be done to keep this little boat of being afloat on life’s ocean.
Here at the vernal equinox, new life is beginning to push restlessness into every living thing, apparently adding to the speed of violent disruption in the human world this year, and sadly moving at breakneck speed. You must feel it too. And then there are the swelling, red buds on the maple trees and hints that splashes of yellow daffodils and purple crocuses won’t be far behind. And birds returning to their summer homes are calling out for mates in their sweet songs, from what sounds like the sheer joy of being alive.
Learning to work effectively with the difficult emotions of grief, anger and fear that can stop us in our tracks is essential to the ability to act wisely in response to all the disturbing conditions rising around us. We must respond somehow because, like it or not, we’re part of this culture in which we live. Thankfully, curiosity helps me to look for, pay attention to and nourish gratitude for whatever spark of love, beauty, kindness, and generosity I can find in any moment. Staying fiercely curious, always on the lookout for those sparks in the outer or inner world of my own being, always opens a door to compassionate empowerment, for myself and those around me. With practice, nourishing gratitude for those tiny sparks of life’s wonder has become a reliable rudder to steer through the wild seas of situations beyond my control, toward the life-giving oasis of awareness where the mysterious abundance of life has grown a deep taproot to feed us all.
Fear and anger have their places, revealing dangers to be avoided, and grief connects us with the depth of our love for what has been lost. With practice, however, all three can be trained to sit in the backseat of the car of our personalities, supporting compassion, for ourselves and others, in the driver’s seat. Once I learned how to safely pause, even for a moment, to listen to life before reacting, I also began to learn how to safely explore experiences of fear, anger and grief as they rose and fell in my thoughts and bodily sensations, noticing how they changed as I observed and responded to them, and how they are not, and never were, all that I am. If I can notice them, then there’s something else in me that they don’t control, which can hold them for a while without acting. Mindful self-reflection grows alongside that sense that simply knows our essential, biological connection to everything on this planet, yielding surprising rewards. I highly recommend it!
If enough of us can deepen our practice of pausing to look closely, listen keenly, and feel deeply into all the sensations of being alive, then speak, write, sing, dance, or paint the best of it into being in community, the human species and all life itself may still have a chance to regenerate on this beautiful blue ball hurtling through space. Transforming the energy of my grief and outrage into fuel for the work of searching for words to light sparks of hope in others’ hearts is what life seems to be calling me to do right now. What is calling your heart’s attention into action?
The video below shows how joyful energy can beautifully and surprisingly move through life. Follow it up with some inspiring quotes that recently crossed my desk. I hope they inspire your heart as they did mine.
Watch this beautiful video of a murmuration of starlings. Each bird is only aware of six or seven birds around it, and yet amazing synergy emerges from within their joyful communion!
“Do not ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” — Howard Thurman
“There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.” — Rumi
“Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.” — Einstein
“A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game is played for the purpose of continuing the play.” — James P Carse