The rush, the blur. The buzz, the hum: A cacophony of busy-ness. In all these breathless whirring moments, I gently unwrap a small parcel I’ve been carrying in my pocket for ages, just waiting to be opened. It is the gift I give myself this year.
* * *
I give myself permission:
To run with abandon or to come full stop. To revel or retreat. The permission to pause—
and just be in this moment.
I give myself forgiveness,
to make peace with all the uncomfortableness,
to look myself in the mirror and say, “I know. I know.”
I give myself vulnerability:
To fling my arms wide open with eyes closed tight—
to fall backward into the current, trusting my soul
to float.
I give myself surrender:
One palm pressed to heart, the other palm raised and receiving upward to sky.
Feet firmly planted
in unknowingness.
* * *
Listen to this meditation below:
Photo credit: Evan Blaser.
I used to meditate back in my high school days, but now that I am a lot older, I tend to forget about it. Maybe, I should give it a try once more.