Quietly a day passes, one to another. When you look around at the world do you see other peoples moments?
This is a photo of my sisters and me. I am the baby!
In May I moved through the quiet moment of my sisters’ death eight years ago. It was without question the most abrupt and painful moment in my life. I will never forget that instant when she moved from this earth, from being my sister, to no more.
Everyday is filled with countless moments. We have opportunities to either recognize those moments as significant or dismiss them as irrelevant. Meditation, for me is the skeleton key that unlocks my ability to cherish moments that would otherwise be lost to obscurity. To recount the fullness of each breath, each touch, each smile, or in some cases the lack thereof.
I have come to understand that happiness too is composed of these moments. I can choose to relish what I, or others, have not accomplished and suffer. Or, I can choose to celebrate those things that have been accomplished and be happy. My emotional destiny is mine to decide. The moment I choose a path of joy or sorrow, I have laid the foundation for my wealth or ruin for many moments to come.
My sisters’ death stifled me for many moments. We were so connected; I was lost when that connection was broken. I became the pain, or so I thought. What really happened was an opening. I learned to reach into my very soul and embrace the pain. It was the only way to move past it into something new. I did not accept the loss, rather continued to learn from who my sister was in this life and develop a different connection. I became bigger than the pain and was able to wean myself of dependence on it as my identity.
We all deal with discomfort and pain in our lives. It can be numbing. The bombastic attitude of someone you try to love, the clutter of a tormented spirit, and the barrenness of a busy life.
I try to resect those moments like the aged branches of a fruiting vine and shape what was central to the relationship into something life giving once more. Sometimes, I am successful; sometimes, I am not. Sometimes resection becomes extraction. Despite my resistance, each of those lessons helps me to grow.
You have the opportunity in each moment to prune or become smothered by the overgrowth of something that no longer serves you.
How do you see your garden growing today?