Layer 1: Rising
Today I laid in bed, having such a difficult time.
Suddenly I remembered that Flora gives a live SpreeCast Mondays at 1. Hey, it was 10 to 1. Hmm … Listening in as I lay there sounded like a pretty danged good idea! I put it on with this intention.
Turns out, this was a fantastic idea.
Energizing and enlivening. Flora’s energy lifted me and I was on my way …
I was shocked to discover the emotional momentum just this one small step of getting up and listening to Flora gave me. She answered two of my questions and the third one I deleted and replaced with a huge, heartfelt THANK YOU.
I started my first painting today as I listened to Flora talk … eeeeee! (That’s the sound of joy and wonder and curiosity and surprise and glee, yes glee too … in case you’re wondrin’ 😉) I usually am drawn to purples and blues and peaceful celadon so the suggestion to start with warm colors was a new adventure for me. Sending you guys lots of love!
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Layer 2: Twirl Me
Yaaaaaaaaay!
I am finding I’m seeing magical little lands in there and spots for fairies and gnomes to live and sometimes I see things that are not there like windy vines and pink cherry blossoms to come. What fun!
Does anybody else go “yaay” real big when they do this? I think this may very well happen every single time, for years.
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Layer 3: She Let Go
Here is how I painted today. With reckless abandon. AND one eye open for the inner hitch.
Sometimes when I’d be flowing, flowing, flowing mindlessly, I’d suddenly and so quietly feel this inner hitch, a subtle sticking … it’s so nuanced that you might hardly even have noticed it but I fine tuned my awareness to be mindful of it.
When I’d feel that or if I’d feel this other thing, which was this intentionality or purpose … when I’d feel either of those two things I’d pause and ask myself, of the mark I was currently making, “Why are you doing that?”
And if the answer came back something like, “to break up that patch of color” or really anything other than, (blank mind) “uh, I don’t know” or “because it feels joyful to me” or “because I love this mark” …
if it were anything other than that, I would intentionally do something else …
like if I found myself “making a mark to break up this patch of color,” I would right away without thought make another mark over it or mess it up or somehow scratch the vinyl record of that in some other way, as fast as I could and with as little thought as I could (not) muster.
Interesting experiment in life, in a way. Letting go.
The fairies are dancing now …
“She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of fear. She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely,
without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a
book on how to let go… She didn’t search the scriptures.
She just let go.
She let go of all of the memories that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.
She didn’t promise to let go.
She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her day-timer.
She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper.
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.
She didn’t analyse whether she should let go.
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.
She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.
She didn’t call the prayer line.
She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.
No one was around when it happened.
There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her.
No one noticed a thing.
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort. There was no struggle.
It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.”
(“She Let Go” a poem by Rev. Safire Rose)
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