Let your hopes bud free

budding tree

Now that sunny days sneak up

Behind cold rainy mornings

And layers get peeled open outdoors;

There’s a quickening of breath, action, planning:

Verdant peaks poke out of  brown branches,

Sturdy shoots plow up from empty hard ground,

Tenacious flowers unfurl spunky petals–

Nature showing the way

To not hold back, not delay

Your own hesitant budding of hopes …

 

Find your path, gently plow your spirit to waken,

Stir your earth

Stow your fears,

Sow even your most tentative knowledge–

It, too, has potential for growing.

Give your dreams a good shake

Unclog plans from despair or stagnation

Stretch your soul

Clear your heart from worry, anger, dissuasion.

Plant your words in this world

Air your prayers to welcome the sun

Seek expression.

Sprinkle showers of hope upon your budding self

You will not be mistaken–

There is a world reawakened

With much worthy growth to be taken.

http://www.pinterest.com/pin/333055334913490394/

Quietude

Take some time to be quiet.

Quietude. Do you remember what it is?

“Impossible,” some say. “Unrealistic.”

“Maybe the next time I am on vacation,” others lament wistfully, “… don’t know when … maybe next year. If I can manage it. Somehow.”

In this world of ours, it may be difficult to imagine taking time for quiet. Maybe harder still to figure out how. Logistics, you know. The noise of churning plans.

If you must, make a quiet-date with yourself. And keep it. But if you can let yourself release a moment of control and grab a quiet moment, do so. Today. Now.

Just do it.

Take a minute. Take two breaths. Take five minutes if you can. A half-hour if you’re extra-lucky and the stars align. A few hours if you’ve won the My-Time-Lottery …

Find a bit of quietude. This day.

A bit tomorrow, when you can.

And the next …

Whatever brief respite you clear up in your mind–take it. Make it yours. Be quiet in it. This is worth it for you, but will also pricelessly teach others who need knowing, who forgot the way to be quiet, who maybe had never learned how.

Little ones, too, need quiet time.

Some of them do not know, either. About silence. Constant beeping, typing, video, screen time, phone time, entertainment, play-dates, lessons, coaching, characters and things that move and ping and chime and replay high-pitch recordings.

Brains need quiet like they need oxygen. Like they need love. Like they need soul.

Show them you believe that quietude is important. Show them you know how … begin now …

Oh, I know it is a rare thing; silence.

In this busy, hustle-bustle, to-do lists and beeping phones, email, texts, chats, calls, meetings, reports, social obligations, family events, work mingling, and information pouring in through every moment, every pore … there is noise just about everywhere. A hiss, a buzz, a murmur, background hum of electronics, cars, people, needs, demands, small children, needy neighbors, ailing parents, crises calls …

It is because of all of that that it is all the more important to take time for quiet.

To re-align your center. To restore the foundation of yourself–of who you are and where you’re going and what makes you who you are and what calms your body why and how. Yes, all that in a moment of quietude. For once not in words, but silence.

Take time for quiet.

Let quiet in. Allow it home, again.

Take time for a calm, clear breath and momentarily emptied mind.

A pause for calibrating a brief neutral.

Be silent. Lower volume on your inner critics (they can use a moment of silence, too!).

Just take a moment. Listen to nothing but the beating of your heart, the music of your soul, the nothingness that holds the breath of life around you.

The pulse of nature.

The space between the spaces.

Silent. Powerful. Whole.

quiet

Lesser day?

When instead of this day

good morning gorgeous

 you had something more like this day …

wet kitty

don’t despair …

and remember

some days

after all, there’s you …

and anyway

on any day

all you can do

so don’t forget

to hang in there, to

Hold On Print by Kelly Rae Roberts

because today may have been

less than glorious

but

tomorrow

Today, be Still

Today,

find a point of stillness:

brief, but precious

slight, but full

small, but luminously real.

Find a point stillness

in the balance of all things

between the breathing out

and breathing in.

stillness

(Quote by Na’ama Yehuda)

Baby Steps

Goals drive us forward. They also hold us back.

Goals often seem too big to get to. The great idea you had the other night feels suddenly less sparkly in the morning: there are far too many steps, it will require more time than you realized, need more attention than you believe you have, more energy than you find within you.

You feel overwhelmed. Discouraged. You get stuck.

Goals are posts along a journey. It truly is not the destination that matters, but the path you take to get there, what you learn along the way about yourself, about your possibilities, abilities, the things that limit you from stretching up and over into the incredible, the fears that keep you from reaching out.

Parents ask me about their children’s therapy: “Will he ever not need help?” they want to know. “Will people ever understand her when she speaks?” They worry how long it will take, how much effort, whether they can make it; can the child.

Children, too, talk about their process. “I am not good at this,” they say. “I don’t know how to write this reading response/this essay”, “I don’t know how to understand the story or how to have the words ready in my mouth when I raise my hand.” “Will I still have to see you next year?” they ask. “Do kids sometimes see you even when they are in high-school?” they inquire, wondering in part-worry, part-hope that I will answer in the affirmative: they worry that they can still be ‘different’ by then, and hope that if so, they will not be left on their own.

“We’ll get there,” I say. “One step at a time.” It is something most of us hear plenty, and not always helpfully, and I know it is often not what parents and children want to hear from me. However, it is Truth still … even if it stirs the place inside each one of us that wants to ‘get to’ where we’re going faster, that does not want to have to do the work, that wants destinations to arrive without the journey.

“Baby steps,” I recommend, knowing that this, too, is often hard to listen to. Who wants to take even smaller steps when the target seems so far away already? BIG steps will get me there oh so much faster! But baby-steps, too, are Truth. Careful, one-foot-then-the-other passage gets us there more surely than a hop-skip-pray-you’re-still-on-the-path would.

Baby-steps aren’t slow, really. They aren’t less-than other ways of making progress. Think of it: Babies take brave steps when they begin to walk. They walk and wobble, toddle and fall and rise and try again … and when they get their footing they walk almost constantly. They put little feet on every surface, tackle stairs, grass, sand, uneven ground. They hold on to hands, grab onto what is available. They crawl when there’s no balance to be found in standing. They climb on all fours. They find a way around. They stop and look for a path behind an obstacle and then surge forward in delight when they find it. Their steps get longer, surer, less a-wobble. They accelerate. They run.

“Baby steps,” I say. Remind. Consider.

It does not mean to do go slowly. It does not mean to take too long. It means to be determined, brave, consistently in focus and yet open to an opportunity to rest and play. It means looking ahead. It means seeing the immediate requiring some climbing over and assessing whether there’s someone tall to carry you awhile if you need a break or wish for a moment of better view …

It means getting there, and finding much to do along the pathway. It makes the journey part of what it takes, and worthy in of itself.

You start with baby-steps, yes. But along the way, you learn to walk. You find your pace. You learn to hop and skip and turn and twirl and run.

You’ll get there.

All you need to do is take step one.

off i go