I left it in my sock drawer,

that token so lovingly given.

But the orphaned socks,

with a need to belong to something,

must have swallowed it up.

It was a beautiful item,

glistening with light and color,

and radiating love.

I am annoyed with myself because

this item mattered,

which I now realize – 

after it is gone.

Once again, the lesson

is clear –

I forget to honor the little things –

the tiny details

which easily slip from view

and need attending.

Are you the same?

You know what I mean…

A tiny gesture, a soft whisper, 

the fact that

someone else did the dishes,

for instance,

granting you a moment

to rest or 

create something beautiful –

like a poem.

These are the precious gems.

Each time I press forward

oblivious to the little things,

I promise to be better.

I understand now

the value of attention –

the kind which pauses long enough

to take in the goodness

around me –

and then feel it

in my body

and heart.

My usual way is to push forward

into the next task

or event.  

I am

like a horse 

with blinders on,

trying to win

an imagined race.

I may get there quicker

but I am blind to the life

and blessings

freely given

along the way.

So I pause on purpose

this time.

I open my eyes.

I begin to gather up 

the moments and memories,

and peruse the old photos

in my mind

of all the big and small moments,

forgotten.

I see how life has changed me

in a million tiny ways.

I bow to the growth given.

This is how 

I learn to cherish 

all the small things. 

It is kind of embarrassing

that I have to keep

re-learning this.

But it is okay.

The fact that I care to learn

means my heart is opening

and a deeper peace

and grace

is on the way.

In fact,

it is already

here –

in one tiny flash

of realization. 

Now the way forward

is simple:

Be a beholder:

for the secret

is in the small things.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2021

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep.

Rumi

The well has run dry –

or so it seems.

Life has been wordless

in this season.

There is something churning within

which stalls the poetry.

Whatever it is feels

essential and mysterious.

What I do know is that

I have no patience for simple

right now.

I cannot bear

any glossing over,

or easy finishes.

The necessary dredging

and stages must happen.

I seem to be germinating,

and it isn’t a comfortable process.

What is on the other side

of this hushed season?

It is hard to allow for change –

I don’t much like it.

I like my usual grooves 

which are predictable

and comfortable.

But I don’t get anywhere new

when I am in them.

I don’t live free.

Perhaps this is what

it feels like

to be tight in the shell,

or trapped under hardened ground,

heavy in its lack of nourishment.

I long to transcend to

a new place  –

a place where I have the freedom

to be me,

to speak the words

which bring the light with them.

Realizing what is true

and where wisdom resides,

I begin to see that

I am but a tiny green shoot

about to burst through.

It may feel a challenge

at the start,

but there is the promise

of a stunning bloom. 

I hold onto that

and am reassured.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, May 2021

And then the day can when the risk to remain tight in the buds more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

Anais Nin

Don’t be so exhausted

by the project

of being you.

We are not designed 

to be so tired.

You already know this to be true.

Witness the ease 

of a blooming flower.

It just does beautifully

what it is meant to do.

Feel the peace that comes

when you walk along a shoreline.

It makes you feel at home.

This peace is available

within you.

Notice the presence in the eyes

of your beloved pet –

you are looking at a teacher

and the lesson is Love.

We belong to this ease,

this peace,

this way of being.

It is not supposed to be

hard work to be here.

So relax.

Allow Life to breathe through you.

Life lives through us.

There is nothing to figure out

or improve.

Simply pay attention,

look within,

and feel it.

All is well.

This is so simple

yet we make it so hard.

We tend to choose our own way,

so we struggle.

We don’t have to.

Copyright: Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2021

Our bodies know we belong. Its our thoughts that make us homeless.

John O’Donahue

• 

There are times in life

when it feels as if

the horizon is all you have.

You want to be lifted

from your current shoreline

which has become rocky

and hard to navigate.

You have been in a season of loss

and your heart is wounded –

too much has changed for you.

In these times,

though the sea spray is still available

to refresh you,

and the music of the sea

still sings to you,

all you can see is the horizon.

Its beauty and hope

calls to your soul.

Its light reflects a joy

you long to feel again.

Its colors bless you with

the beauty of hope bestowed.

So, though your feet are torn

from the sharp edges

you have endured this season,

the horizon remains.

And as you take in its expanse of light,

your feet begin to find

the softer sand

to cradle your toes in warmth.

You remember you belong, after all.

You have found the gift of peace.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, December 24, 2020