Imagination-Creating Possibility in the Unthinkable

Autumn Mountain Morning

The imagination is capable of kindness that the mind often lacks … it does not engage in things in a cold, clear-cut way but always searches for the hidden words that wait at the edge of things. The mind tends to see things in a singularly simple, divided way: there is good and bad, ugly and beautiful. The imagination, in contrast, extends a greater hospitality to whatever is awkward, paradoxical or contradictory. … The imagination is always more loyal to the deeper unity of everything. It has patience with contradiction because there it glimpses new possibilities. And the imagination is the great friend of possibility. …this is what beauty is: possibility that enlarges and delights the heart. John O’Donohue Beauty-The Invisible Embrace

In the midst of the unthinkable, of horrors and hatred, of rancor and disrespect, turning from mind to heart offers a doorway of passage into a field of brighter possibilities.

Earlier this week I was given an opportunity to imagine the future, my future, three years out. The conversation inspired me to reflect more deeply on what a world of unity, peace, compassion, and integrity look like. How would we/I be in our responses to today’s multiple crises and violence? How would our leaders BE and what choices would they make in a world truly committed to peace? How might we shift?

The following day Charles Eisenstein shared his thoughts on those very questions (click here to watch). His answer in short: forgiveness, shifting from blame and revenge to forgiveness and seeking to understand. Not an easy or simple path, as any of us who have been ‘wronged’ and sought to forgive another know from our experience. Yet might we dare to allow our hearts to dream what our minds will surely declare is ‘impossible’?

In the midst of the unthinkable, of horrors and hatred, of rancor and disrespect, turning from mind to heart offers a doorway of passage into a field of brighter possibilities. Can we imagine a different future than where the arc of history seems headed? Dare we dream and endeavor to bring such dreams into reality, creating sacred spaces and fields of possibility?

I’m reminded of Rumi’s wise words:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
There is a field. I'll meet you there.

Even in the comfort and relative safety of home it is not always easy to imagine such a bright future. Life’s daily details and our habitual keeping up with today’s dramas, horrors, and predictions of the next scary thing may trap us in dead-end, worn out thinking and lead us to forget our power to imagine and call forth a different future.

Yet imagine a new world we must. Seeking those whose ideals resonate with ours and joining them in community to call forth and create the new. Creating new pathways and ways of being and doing right where we are.

Moment to moment we choose where to focus our attention, where to devote our precious life energy. What might be possible if, beyond our compassion and empathy, our sorrow and grief, we tapped into the kindness of the imagination to dream a future where we’ve grown our capacity to listen (deeply listen) to one another along with our willingness to engage in this way. Where we have the capacity to forgive past deeds (our own as well as those of others) and to imagine and create a new world together. And then to trust that such a world is possible even when that seems not so and despite history’s evidence to the contrary. How much beauty can we imagine?

To be sure, I have work to do. Let’s dance!

The Portal on Cordial

Living Into Sovereignty

Art in the Afternoon Sky

There’s a sense of sovereignty that comes from life on a mountain. Tara Westover

Muse woke me before dawn this morning with this gentle nudging: Sometimes one must get in a box to know just how that box doesn’t fit. For only when one knows the details of how something doesn’t fit can one begin to design and create what does.

Hmmm … I knew almost instantly what Muse was referring to: a box of the legal/medical system I’ve recently experienced.

I’m in the process of attending to some life decisions that I need make, updating wishes and instructions for when my time in this vehicle is complete. For a while I’ve been ‘trying on’ (actually, trying to make fit) the language presented as choices by the legal and medical systems (no, I’m not about to hop on my soapbox about that, so stay with me).

None of their choices felt ‘just right’, so I chose the ones that seemed to fit the best, settling for less than the perfect fit I desired. I did so because I wanted to be done AND because I didn’t see any other possibilities. I was in the system’s box, compromising my sovereignty and my wishes to fit so that I could check the ‘completed’ box on my ‘to do’ list.

Somehow it didn’t occur to my inner rebel to look outside that box for other possibilities.

That prompting came in a conversation with a trusted friend and advisor who with deep conviction challenged me to, “write your own words!”. Gulp. Say what? I can do that?

I was at once embarrassed (Why didn’t I think of that? How could I allow myself to get so trapped in the system’s box?). And I was relieved. With her words, the possibility of ‘having my cake and eating it too’ opened.

I could execute the ‘close but not a perfect fit’ documents as written, thus relieving the pressure that what I had in place didn’t reflect my wishes at all.

And I could declare that executing these documents doesn’t close the door to creating that ‘just right’ fit. I can take time to explore, co-create, and discover how to implement language that’s ‘just right’: language that fits my understanding and beliefs about life and (so-called) end of life, as well as my desires for comfort as I exit this physical body. Then I can work with my attorney to add whatever legalese is necessary.

In choosing to live more fully into my sovereignty, I feel the fresh air of empowerment and freedom. This is how life is intended to be but doing so is not easy in a world that prefers we choose from its boxes, boxes designed not to honor our free will and sovereignty as universal beings, but to control. I’m excited to explore and discover in what other life domains I may have boxed myself in, not remembering that I am the co-creator of this life.

Muse gives a nod and posits a query about the collective: Is it any wonder that there is such anger and angst in your world? No matter how conscious one is, this conflict is ever present in all. It seems that the more conscious we are of the conflicts and constraints imposed by our systems the more at choice and sovereign we can be. Perhaps as we raise our awareness, we’ll be better able to build sustainable, sovereign community systems. And that, suggests Muse is a story for another day.

Cheerful Morning

ALL We Need IS Love

Snow! On the Labyrinth Bell

All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need … John Lennon - The Beatles (click here for a 3 minute ride down memory lane)

As I move beyond the hustle and bustle of what we call the ‘holiday season’, I’m present to the pleasure and satisfaction that came with choosing to engage in holiday activities with others more than I usually do. I’m grateful for the opportunities to gather and share with friends. And as this fifth day of the new calendar year dawns, I’m also present to a deep pull to go within, to withdraw, bear-like, into a state of torpor. To rest. To hear with clarity the whispers of my heart, a heart that is calling for trimming the sails and making course corrections to more fully align the activities and choices in life with that which I say I value.

The Muse muffles a chuckle, knowing this will necessitate investing more time in sitting quietly, resting, napping. It will require that I let go of trying to control the flow of life and that I build muscle to allow changes and projects to flow in their time, divine time, not my time. The Muse’s chuckle gives way to a gentle embrace, a reminder that Muse nudges and wisdom are available 24/7. Like Zadie Byrd, the Muse is oh so patient with my humanness.

Although I feel this pull to draw inward every winter, this year seems different. While much of our contemporary Western culture declares the ‘holiday season’ over when the new year is celebrated, other cultures – those more in tune with Nature and her cycles – dedicate this time to inner journeys, to rest, to envisioning what wants to come forward. They rest and gather within that which will be needed to burst forth in spring. They listen to the heart whispers and invite the heart to have its full voice.

 And that is what I’m easing into in the early minutes of this new year: investing more time in contemplation and consideration, being with the stars and all of Nature to discover what wants to unfold, to jettison that which no longer serves, and to gather what I need for the journey ahead.

While discovery, jettisoning, and gathering will require me to breakthrough more layers of my own habitual muscle memory and to develop stronger immunity to the pull of a culture that wants me to conform, the deep potency and possibility that I feel for humanity and our planet home, Mother Earth, in this year provide sustainable, renewable fuel for the journey.

Although this time finds our world chaotic, we need not be in chaos with it. My choices, indeed, our choices, minute by minute in the remaining 519,120 minutes (more or less) of 2022, hold the potential to contribute positively to the new that is unfolding as the old falls away.

In the quiet time and in the active time each day, I’m deepening trust in the voice of my heart to shine light on the path and to support me step by step in the uncharted waters ahead aiming to expand my capacity to BE the love I want to see in the world. For indeed, love is all we need.

New Years Snow on the Mountains

Into The Deep

The Deep

Just as there is unseen beauty and life in the deep of the ocean, there is beauty, life and meaning in our own, sometimes dark, silence.

I find myself using the word ‘deep’ quite a lot these days. It’s an interesting word that, depending on how you use it, can be a noun, an adjective, or adverb. (No, I don’t intend these posts to be a weekly grammar lesson, but I’m fascinated by words and their power – perhaps the Muse will engage there one day.)

I notice my use of the word in all those forms in my thoughts, conversations, writing (duh!), and, especially in my awareness. I feel deep gratitude for my life, for life, for being here with Mother Earth in this body at this moment in time. I feel a depth about life and in life that is new to my being. I feel excited, curious, and trepidatious, all of which I’ve experienced before, yet they feel different now. That difference doesn’t have (and may never have) have words. The Deep. Deeper.

I sense we humans – individually and collectively – are in a deep shift, a transformation, a leap forward in consciousness as new knowledge, new scientific discoveries make their way into our awareness. This calls forth my curiosity and excitement. New knowledge, new discoveries are emerging into our awareness with ‘slim to none’ (and, as the saying goes ‘slim is out of town’) help from the so-called mainstream media or our storied institutions of education and government, most of which seem to be on increasingly shaky ground.

Coming to grips with this recognition that what we’ve been told and encouraged to believe is ‘the truth’ and necessary for our security stirs trepidation as we recognize that we too are on that shaky ground. We’re reckoning on many fronts: the Earth will no longer tolerate our reckless choices; the history most of us were taught is, at best, incomplete and written from the perspective of the so-called winner; our health and healthcare needs are personal and individual; and new scientific discoveries are expanding our understanding of who we are. Indeed, sometimes it feels like we are in ‘deep doodoo’.

As I’ve written before, I often find myself exploring and asking how I can live in greater alignment with Nature. I’m aware that I do so with the unspoken proviso that my comfort level isn’t diminished – I suspect most of us, knowingly or not add such a condition to our questioning. I’m also wrestling with a bit of history from my early teens: the assassination of President John Fitzgerald Kennedy on November 22, 1963. I wonder how that event, which happened just 30 miles from my home, has influenced me. I wonder when – if ever – the ‘whole truth’ will be released. A recent Charles Eisenstein essay has helped my understanding

I’m learning to be with that ‘deep doodoo’ feeling, to allow it, to accept that there is much that I do not know, even to be with sometimes feeling impotent to make a difference. That is part of being in The Deep. Christian mystics would call it ‘the dark night of the soul’. I’ve come to more deeply appreciate that just as there is unseen beauty and life in the deep of the ocean, there is beauty, life and meaning in our own, sometimes dark, silence.

Eventually, from the darkness of The Deep, light follows. I remember that knowledge begets awareness and the wisdom to choose differently. I remember that truth tellers and discoverers of our past have been maligned and then, eventually revered. Their discoveries shaped history, the lives we live today, and our very being. May we remember that as new discoveries far beyond those of history surface.

In the light, it feels as if we are on the cusp of new discoveries which will bring forth greater awareness of our potential in a Universe that is infinite. Not our potential to have more, do more, etc., but our potential to know more, to understand our access to vast stores of knowledge, and to BE what/who it is that we truly are.

Sunset Beauty’s Prelude to The Dark

Friendship and Pivoting to Possibility

A Quiet Spot for Reflection in the Sangres

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”  Anais Nin

I’ve been blessed to have a dear friend visiting me here at the Sangres for several days, our first opportunity to visit in person since the 2019 winter holiday season, mostly due to Covid. Like many other friends and families, we stayed in contact through the lockdown days. Now, having her here reminded me that there is nothing like the flow created when we are face-to-face, unmasked and yearning to share at a deeper level than email, texts, phone chats, and even Zoom accommodate.

My friend departed earlier this morning. The house is quiet, still. It feels a touch empty although the energy of the laughter and exploration remains in these walls and in my heart. True friends are blessings, reminders of life’s beauty, harmony, abundance, joy.

For me, true friendship includes being challenged by my friend as well as challenging them, all the while grounded in acceptance and rooted in the reality of unity. Recognizing and honoring differences while deeply knowing that we are the same.

I was reminded of that on my early morning walk with Zadie Byrd, remembering a time when this friend challenged me to pivot from a particular pattern of thinking to considering another possibility. Accepting that challenge seven years ago, led me to purchase this home and create the Dragonfly House – a world that was in me, but only birthed in conversational dance with my friend.

That reminded me of a favorite book, Rosamund Stone Zander and Benjamin Zander’s The Art of Possibility. The authors beautifully contrast the worldview of scarcity and survival with that of possibility; the ‘world of measurement’ with the ‘universe of possibility’:

All the manifestations of the world of measurement – the winning and losing, the gaining of acceptance and the threatened rejection, the raised hopes and the dash into despair – all are based on a single assumption that is hidden from our awareness. The assumption is that life is about staying alive and making it through – surviving in a world of scarcity and peril…

This is the world and focus of the body. It is the world of exploitation and control, the world of mass consciousness that disregards the wisdom of nature and the deep knowing of our souls.

What if beyond that world we could begin to glimpse another and, in our glimpsing, create a more beautiful world:

… a universe of possibility that stretches beyond the world of measurement to include all worlds: infinite, generative, and abundant. Unimpeded on a daily basis by the concern for survival, free from the generalized assumption of scarcity, a person stands in the great space of possibility in a posture of openness, with an unfettered imagination for what can be. … When you are oriented to abundance, you care less about being in control, and you take more risks. … In the measurement world, you set a goal and strive for it. In the universe of possibility, you set the context and let life unfold.

The last sentence lands deep in me, a recognition I aim to live life from the universe of possibility: setting the context, showing up, inviting life to unfold, knowing that it will, adjusting the context as I learn and grow. Ultimately trusting my inner compass to navigate the waters in and the waters out.

This time between eclipses – the lunar eclipse last week and the solar eclipse coming on June 10 with the new moon – also a time of stresses and strife on the planet and in humanity seems a good time to consider what world we are living in – individually and collectively – and to make course corrections in service to ourselves, to one another, and to our planetary home. A time to reset our context and allow the world to unfold.

A Beautiful Morning in the Sangres