This morning, I am watching three birds at the pond outside my window.
One sits in the water, long legs buried below the surface, waiting for the fishies to swim past so she can eat them. She is patient, and trusting that her food will come to her.
Another has just swam (swimming birds!) across the pond to find her food. She is standing still in the sun, drying off. Hasn't moved an inch. Digesting and drying.
The third bird is a scavenger. Never eats fresh, pokes around for bits, constantly on the move. There she goes, searching for scraps in the grass. The food is in the water, but she is searching over the land.
I see myself in these birds. All of us, at different times in life: diving in and searching things out, patiently waiting, or barely getting by.
Often, in my blogs, I get a little philosophical or untethered to reality. But I am fully grounded with these birds this morning.
I have been the desperate scavenger. It's hard to turn that off sometimes. I've got to move, keep searching for the next thing. So much anxiety and stress. Wasted energy.
Mostly, I've been the swimmer, eating during the effort, reaching for the other side. Graceful, but with the belief that nothing comes if I don't move. I have to go get it. It won't come to me. Why would it come to me? Who am I?
Right now, I am experimenting with patience and trust. I'm becoming the third bird. I'm calm, wading in the shallows, trusting that everything I need will swim on by. I don't have to push or exert a lot of effort. I do, ever-so-slowly, pace the perimeter of the pond, with the lightest of steps. No ripples or waves. And the fish always come. There's always enough.
I'm just trying to slow my racing heart, so the fish don't feel it and run away.
The worry, that they won't come, causes them to not come.
When I think, "what if it doesn't happen? What if this doesn't work?"
they hear my heart and swim away.
The trick is to believe that everything I want is already on it's way.
The effort is to remain still, calm my mind and enjoy the sunny day. The effort is to fiercely grab that fishie as it comes to me.
There's my splash.
Today's Deep Breath: a practical juju nugget, a collective Next Best Decision.
Through these last 2+ years of separation and divorce, empty-nestedness, and
learning to love living alone with me,
I have wanted to be calm.
(Calm down, dang it!)
I've wanted to feel free.
(I miss our family.)
I've wanted to feel brave, standing in my own skin, tall.
But not chasing either.
Trusting that everything I want is on it's way.
Everything is happening FOR me.
It all is happening FOR me.
As it should.
For my best good.
The only thing going wrong is if I think,
"something's gone wrong."
Nothing's gone wrong.
So, friends: try a little trust. Calm your mind.
Think about what you want.
Imagine it happening.
Feel how amazing that feels.
Then let it go. It will come.