Uncategorized

The Nub of It All

 

You will not find your way through a constant push. You will not reach your perceived pinnacle by force of will or never-ending trying. Believe it or not, the struggle is not necessary. In fact, it is harmful. For the more you exert against your imagined challenges, the farther away from presence you are. So, drop it all. Let go of your effortful ways. Open your eyes and look upon yourself as if you are separate from who you are in the world…because, in fact, you are. And as you look, don’t you dare be harsh. For there is no judgment here. We are all given this chance to learn to correct ourselves and embrace a larger belonging. We are born infants in a world which leads us astray from the truth of who we really are. Only those who catch glimpses of this reality are able to wake up and be free. So, get curious about how you move through your day. Keep a watchful eye as to your habits and reactions – your feelings. Look within at your thoughts and the movement of your heart. Listen to your life. Observe how the world works and interacts but keep a larger view. Pay attention and open your heart and mind to inspiration. Take pauses. Be receptive to your learning. Eventually, the gift of freedom and unimaginable presence will bubble up within you, lifting you up and out of your misdirected ways, and bring you a sparkling and sustainable joy along with all the energy you need to do the work you are here to do. You will learn what love really is and how to extend it and embrace it. It is really that simple. You just get out of your own way. You learn to be.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

photo-of-a-man-sitting-under-the-tree-737586

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

This One Life

 

You see, to live

one must do these things:

like a bird about to take flight,

one must believe it is possible –

that our wings can be trusted.

When happy, allow it to be!

Share your happy face and glow

as created to do so.

When sad, embrace being seen as sad –

and surrender to the hug of compassion

packaged in sweet understanding and growth.

The struggles will come and go.

The secret is to surf the highs and lows

and learn to fall gracefully 

and repeatedly.

There will always follow

chances to rise up again courageously.

We are here to love.

It is that simple –

and, also that complicated.

For most of us have learned

to turn away from the divine imprint

which shows us how to love

and accept our differences.

Remember that the journey of grace

is more inward

than outward.

We lose our layers of skin

and find peace in the presence

of this one moment.

We discover a deeper belonging.

We understand that we already have it all.

This is the amazing glimpse that,

when captured,

enables us to be the beautiful souls we are.

We can let go.

We can be free.

We can choose joy.

Copyright©Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

 

“Strange as it may seem today to say, the aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware.”  – Henry Miller

 

active-activity-beach-40815

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

In the Chill of Winter

 

In the chill of winter,

build a fire big enough

to warm

your fingers and toes.

Allow the warmth 

to travel to

your center –

let the grip of

cold and contraction

relax.

As you loosen and warm,

release your fear

of harsh winds

and insidious ice

which, in its blackness,

sneaks up on you

and threatens to knock you down.

 

In the chill of winter,

burn with awareness.

Let go of complaining

and resistance,

for they hasten the cold

to root in your being.

Instead, look to creation.

Honor the season.

What can the cold teach us?

The trees do not argue.

The squirrels settle in.

The birds accept the change

and move southward. 

The plants rest.

All of nature flows with the seasons.

So, in the chill of winter,

build a fire,

rest and be warm,

discover wonder and joy

at the coating of the white –

a pure dusting 

which baptizes in beauty,

reflecting the light.

Let this inspire you, and

when you are ready,

learn to play with the cold.

Build a snowman.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

beautiful-clothes-cold-54200

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Holly Jolly

 

Little goofy snowmen –

Their grins imperfect and sweet, cause

me to giggle inside

and step a little more lightly, so

a smile forms in me,

too.

 

Christmas songs in the car

blaring and sometimes irritating, but

still able to get me singing, freeing

me from caring what

others might think, because

no one can hear me.

They connect me, nevertheless

to childhood Christmas bliss, which

warms me deeply, and

brings a twinkle to my eyes.

 

The Christmas season lingers

longer than in past years…

so much of it is commercial, but

hopefully, it is also spiritual.

 

Perhaps, in these times when

connecting deeply to life seems harder,

we need the simple uplift

of silly snowmen, and

familiar holiday songs, to

be less weighted down.

One can hope, in the elevation provided, that

the vision of the Christ child

in a manger, surrounded

by a loving family –

friendly animals and kings – and

blanketed by angels – 

can inspire us enough to

bring our lifted spirits to

meet each moment

in this great life

given.

In this way,

Christmas joy can become

never-ending –

the true gift of the season.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

art-bright-celebration-753500

 

Poem · Poetry

Count It All Joy

He laid in his hospital bed

set up next to his wife’s bed –

his hands contracted

and useless,

his body dependent

on the help of others –

just to move at all,

or eat, or even

brush his teeth.

This bed has been his dwelling place

for over five years,

his disease shrinking and stiffening his body,

rendering his muscles

unworkable –

keeping him confined,

and stuck.

He is one of my favorite patients.

His eyes always sparkle,

his mind is unfailingly engaged,

his words ever generous.

“I am a lucky guy.”

This is the song he sings

no matter what pain may be present

or loss on the forefront.

“I have no complaints.”

Before him,

on his bookcase,

are about 50 journal books

he has filled

with reflections and illustrations

of his weekly walks in the woods

as he observed and gloried

in the wonders of nature.

“Nature used to be my religion.

And then I found God.”

This was life pre-diagnosis.

When I look at him,

a prisoner in his bed and so small,

I am grateful

he had a former life

of movement and joy

in Nature and beyond this room.

“I am a lucky guy,”

he states again and again,

and I marvel at

how he glows.

He has an understanding

that I hope is within reach for me.

He knows

that everyone has “something”

and this is his.

“The way I figure it,” he states,

“God put me here for a reason.

And when anyone comes to see me,

I hope I can be a light for them.

I hope I can make them happy.”

He radiates

effortlessly and profoundly

and I cannot help

but be changed.

He shows me the way

to what is real.

I begin to understand

the gift of joy

in all circumstances

and the suffering that comes

with resisting

what lies before us.

As I say goodbye,

He says,

“I hope I will see you again.”

I smile.

Oh, you will.

You will.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

choose joy