Wednesday Wish, (76); Work Can Wait

She led with her bare feet, down the warm stone steps and out into the morning sun. A gentle breeze licked the sea and rushed up to greet her, to ruffle her long hair, to remind her that nature couldn’t wait to play. She looked down at her brown, sun-kissed feet, her silver toe ring glistening like the water her toes so ached to feel.

“Soon, my dears, soon. Once Julio arrives, the sea will get its wish. And we will get ours, too.”

But Julio didn’t come. Fernando and Paco and Martin did, but Julio did not. For weeks he had come every morning at 6 am like the others. Some mornings, she slept. And still he came and worked, his hammering and pounding and sweat-making waking her from her deep and luscious slumbers. On those days, she would bring him lemonade and invite him to take a break as soon as she woke, thanking him for making her home more beautiful. And he would smile at her sleepy-eyed face.

Today, she planned to show him her drawings in the earth, where she wanted the stone pathway to be, its curves and meanders and puddles drawn to make the garden an even greater secret. But at 6 o’clock, he didn’t come. So she couldn’t show him her imaginings.

Still, she waited,

And waited,

And waited some more.

All the while her head not understanding why,

And her toes, aching for the sea.

“In my country,” she said to Paco, at an ugly-honest moment, “we go to work every day and when we don’t show up, we get fired.”

Paco stopped and turned to meet her eyes with his own. His face was gentle and kind, his eyes glossy with feeling.

“Julio’s sister has the flu. She needed him today.”

“But…but…he has a job…” she started to say.

And then she caught herself, saw herself, realized what she had been taught to believe her whole life, had been wrong. How did I ever see otherwise? She lowered her head and looked inward. And I think she whispered something like this:

Dear Heart, let me not ignore your wisdom ever again. Not when everyone around me tells me otherwise, not when my own head tells me I am a fool. Not now. Not ever again. Money is not my credo. Nor is following the rules of another man’s head. Love and caring are the basic principles of my life. For myself and for others. And from now on, I will honor my heart's wisdom and the wisdom of other's hearts, too.

            She took a deep breath, then let it seep out, slowly, like a balloon with a tiny pin-prick hole. A calm peace enveloped her heart…

“I could never fire Julio for caring about his sister. Work can always wait. Love for one’s sister, cannot. And Paco? Where does she live? After I swim in my sea, I want to bring them both flowers.”

*          *          *

This week, try a life on where money and work is not the bottom line but your heart is. Your soul is. Being in touch with, and honoring the deeper You in you, is.

And today, just today, make decisions not based on how much they cost or how fast it can get done, but on what makes you feel the best. Inside. Drive that way to see the tulips even if you will lose an hour of pay and 4 gallons of gas, and get a stinky look from a co-worker. Eat lunch at a favorite spot and not at your desk because the sun feels right on your face, because today, spending the extra money on a special meal feels right and good. Skip the work requirements, to throw rocks at the beach instead. With your child or by yourself. Take a nap in the middle of the day because you need to. And when they don’t understand, they don’t understand. But you do. And your happy is stronger than a whole mess of other’s distaste. Your glowing, love-filled life will prove it to be so.

Wednesday Wish, (75); See The Beauty of Your Soul

He sat across from me, his eyes searching for a gentle place to rest, maybe a blank patch of wall or a quiet painting…anything that brought enough solace for his heart to share its secrets. He longed to be heard, to be seen, to be revealed as the beautiful man that he was. He knew that here, with me, he had a chance for that to happen. And so it was that he began, his eyes leading his soul the way.

I watched him unfold. I felt his story tremble in my hands, his raw vulnerability pulsing with naked fear. And because I had my heart wide open, to see and be present with every fiber of my being, his words became colors, his voice, a rare song, and suddenly, he was more beautiful than even he himself dreamed. He was pure love. He was soul. He was breathtaking.

My eyes filled with tears at the beauty of another man’s soul. His gift, to me. But how could my words ever convey that which I saw? How could I possibly have a gift to give to someone who was already pure beauty and beyond?

Then, as I wiped my tears and looked up, I found his eyes. The windows to his soul were no longer resting in another world, they were right here, resting with me.

His eyes
had found their peace,
with
my own.

*          *          *

She glowed like a movie star under the lights, like a Spring flower reaching for the sun. And she had no idea. Her laughter came from deep places and filled even the darkest ones, her spirit elevating all those around her. And still, she had no idea. My friends asked me what it was like to know her, told me how lucky I was. And those talks, I shared with her. But still, she had no idea….of her true beauty. Of the magic that was her soul.

I remember telling her. Again and again and again. I remember her smiles as she briefly sipped of her own spring. And then, just seconds later, I remember her face as it moved to see itself in the mirror. When I saw her, she was soft and open, pure love. When her eyes met herself, she hardened and closed and became someone I did not know. Someone only she knew.

She gave
the hurdles
and the pains
and the struggles
of her life
greater weight
than the beauty
of her own
soul.

And yet still…her eternal Self will never cease to express itself through her eyes.

This I know.

And this will I always remind her.

*          *          *

Your Beauty is your soul. Your Beauty is the You in you. 

Your Beauty moves me to tears...

again and again and again.

Wednesday Wish, (74); See the Magic of Spring

photo by all the fine things via flickr

It’s Spring time in the North. The green kind with tufts of color peeking out to see if we’re paying attention, if we’re awake, if we remember how to appreciate the little things.

Do you?

Do you see the way the trees, ever so slightly, lift up their branches to push their beloved buds closer to the warmth of the sun?

Do you notice how some flowers come out of the ground with bowed heads, how they secretly, when no one is looking, then lift those heads up to the sky, as if following a promise of beautiful tomorrows?

Do you breathe in the scents, not unlike a newborn baby’s, gifts reminding us of the magic of life?

And if you don’t see these things, when then did you stop? Did you grow up? Did you find better things to think about, things that were more important? Things that made money and got you more respect?

Or did you just forget…the little things?

The little things that make life magic

That make life meaningful,

That make life worth living.

Trees care.

Flowers sense.

Gifts of nature are magical gifts

But they are only available

to those who choose to see.

Will you?

Will you find your happy in nature again?

My Wednesday Wish For You?

Introduce yourself to a tree. Talk to it. In your heart or in your head, in a song or in a whisper, but please don’t yell. Trees don’t like to be yelled at. Neither do I. And neither do you. Tell the tree what you see. Her beauty. Her kindness. Her gifts. Smile with love at her and let her know you care. Notice the new gifts she germinates within you when you share of your heart. Notice a new lightness, maybe a sparkle or a softness that starts to grow inside of you—a feeling you might remember from your childhood. Notice how your head tries to make fun of you, but not before you push it behind a curtain and tell it to shush, that you are remembering how to see, how to soften yourself to nature, how to appreciate the little things. The little things that make life…magic.