The practice is to remind yourself that in those unavoidable moments of darkness that come with the privilege of living in a human skin, it is the nature of the light to give itself to you unconditionally.
I'm letting this fall be about surrender. About not being able to control everything and not having everything go the way I'd like it to. About learning whatever lesson my broken heel is supposed to be teaching me instead of powering through or ignoring it.
What I uncovered was this total belief that I had to be highly active in order to be okay with what I was doing in the world. That if I didn't wake up slightly stressed by all the meetings and deadlines I had on my plate for the day, I wasn't doing enough to make a difference.
I always wonder why the universe gives us these gifts when we let go. Don't we need them a tad more when we are desperately searching and in need? Perhaps it's the universe's way of teaching us the lesson of letting go.
When I compare how nature "does life" with such effortless grace and ease, with how we so often struggle, thinking we have to force or push things in a specific direction to create a fruitful and rewarding life worth living, I have to chuckle. Life flows, we need not try to push it.
Today in Washington a great battle is unfolding between Republicans preparing to filibuster the nomination of Richard Cordray to lead the new consumer protection agency and Senator Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.), who is battling to save the agency from these Republican attacks.
Stuff piles up in life, just like the snow, and it's a pain in the neck to shovel through it all. That's why sometimes, no matter the weather, it's a good idea to declare a snow day, fix a cup of tea and do nothing at all.
"Know when to hold 'em, Know when to fold 'em" are lyrics from a famous Kenny Rogers song, and they apply to life in so many ways. When do you give up? When do you throw up your hands and let things take their course, despite being unhappy with the state of it all?
When we want anything badly -- a job, a relationship, money, a stroke of creative genius, etc. -- it creates an air of desperation. And this energy of desperation acts like a rubber wall and a heavy coat of armor -- what you want can't get to you.
I know the beauty of surrender -- the surrender of releasing my concerns upwards and of surrendering up to the greatest good and guidance available for me. It looks like relaxing and being patient, not being inactive but following inspired action.
Lacking emotional intelligence is the norm in our culture, and it is common behavior to hold our relationships hostage to our internal dissatisfaction and unhappiness. Tragically, it is too easy to buy into rejection and accept the blame.
As I began to grow up, I attempted to define myself -- this presence of "I" -- through endlessly collecting information. In this natural process of mental awareness inhabiting a body, I discovered a symphonic mandala of sometimes competing, sometimes complementing explanations.