I prefer not to struggle.
I will always opt to sip the Dramamine-Champagne cocktail
on board over mouthfuls of seawater while shipwrecked.
But crashing waves and struggle have much to teach,
and my soul is cherished far too much to be left high and dry.
So I must intentionally let go of my preference for safety
and submit to the flow.
Let go of patterns of self-preservation and self-transformation.
Let go of fear and welcome another opportunity
to be led to a new land.
I am so grateful for brave souls helping us to
make sense of the shipwreck, and the other night
and even chat for a moment--
soul to soul--with Jonathan Martin.
offers a tender glimpse of what surrender looks like in those painful, desolate in-between rocky places where it's hard to breathe or see mercy.
Within these pages, I sensed a poetic buoyancy that
Within these pages, I sensed a poetic buoyancy that
filled me with hope.
"Stay a little longer" is nearly impossible for me to vocalize without choking up...perhaps because it delicately conveys such tender longing in the midst of so much global despair right now.
If you are at the moment shipwrecked, I pray
that today, with new eyes, you will begin to see hope is on the way.
I pray you will find inside moments of stillness and quiet,
a gently burning flame which seeks to purify,
enlighten, and accompany you on the journey to shore.
The Contemplative Companion posts by Peter Haas
arriving each morning to my inbox never fail
to point me to that light with heartwhispers like this:
*The images here of our son (age 14 at the time) on a summer boat ride reflect a contemplative state I feel yet cannot adequately name with language...and the balance of images are of
the Japanese Gardens near our home which capture the inner
landscape of beauty to which I am always seeking to return.
Peace to you right where you are.
~m
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