In the end, I’m a person that so seeks to understand a few paths toward more consciousness. So as to contribute. So as to feel an alive heart, mind, belly.
In the end, I seek to build this pattern with others. With friends. With colleagues. With committees. With communities.
In the podcast I collage some of the most honed simple that I’m playing with regularly. In my self practices. In my group facilitation and coaching.
There’s joy in it for me. It’s a little bit on linking the personal to the universal. The fuzzy to the clear. It’s seeking a simplicity that is near all of the time. It’s seeking a simplicity that contributes profoundly.
Hmmm. Not quite sure where this one is going. But it matters to me. Keeps calling to me.
I quite like this photo from last week. Of Cedars. Felt like a council. Standing in circle. I suppose I wish to age with the wisdom of Cedars.
I was on a recent Zoom call with a friend that I respect and admire. He’s in his mid 70s. We’ve been exploring together monthly ish over the last three years. On this day, it was exploring a topic we both hold with genuineness — aging consciously. He at his mid 70s age. Me at my young 60s age.
He names three learnings. “One, I’m a bit slower. Two, I’ve learned a bit more about when to keep my mouth shut. Three, I’m a bit more focussed on purpose.”
Conscious aging.
Yup.
Me too. It frustrates me to need be so quick. More accurately, it scares me a bit that I can’t be quite as quick as I have been. Not quite as quick mind. Hmm…, not quite as quick heart. I’m asking questions about what I hope is natural transition from the speed of it, so required in contemporary world, to the clarity. Hmm… Clarity is a form of speed. Hmmm?
Me too. I’ve needed to learn what is mine to take on, and what isn’t. It’s boundaries. It’s guiding when invited. Or inspired. But it’s also knowing that people need to be in their own paths of learning. Honoring that. Maybe coaching a bit.
Me too. It’s got to have clarity of purpose. I suppose this is back to the first point. Again, in transparency, it scares me a bit to lose sight of purpose. For myself. In a group. I notice I start to feel impatient. Hmm… Might be that aging with consciousness invites more focus — that’s a gift. But also the surrender to less breadth. Hmmm?
Yah. So, standing with these questions. And with a few friends. In a council. With patience. I hope with wisdom. Like with the Cedars.
I love this photo. Taken last week on a bus ride into the Swiss Alps. It’s the man standing in the boat that most catches my attention. Something about the color. On still water. Against a backdrop of rather impressive and steep mountain. I imagine him pensive. Reflective. Maybe, just maybe, reflecting on some version of “now”. Maybe calmed by it.
The poem below is a repost from last summer. Given the belly imperative of “now,” I notice I’m returning to writings and to conversations that lift relationship with “now.”
It’s a theme that keeps coming for me. When I’m trying to get at what lives underneath. Sometimes in my own learning. Sometimes with others. Sometimes in Life’s unfolding simplicity and complexity.
Learn Now.
From the path. From the blossoms so abundant in Spring. From the people blossoming near and far. From the distant view. From the close in. From what is smooth. From what is rough. From what is constant. From what changes.
Learn Now. There’s always something. And somethings.
It’s a call to the belly for me. That brings heart alive. That brings intuition alive. That brings wonder alive. That brings contribution alive.
Learn Now.
Learn Nowness. Learn Now, in present moment. Of present moment. Learn of what is alive. Of patterns. Of unfolded life. Of Life coming to claim us.
Learn Now.
To be people in connection, sorting it all. The best we can.
