Worry Transformed

Worry. I am no stranger to that particular affliction, one to which the human mind is particularly prone. Evolutionarily speaking, the brain’s ability to anticipate potential problems kept us fed, sheltered, and safe from predators. In other words, worry kept us alive.

But in our modern world, this same tendency leads to chronic stress, which is harmful in any number of ways, wreaking havoc with body, heart and soul. Fortunately, the plasticity of the brain lends itself to the development of new habits. We can choose what we cultivate.

           

I once worked with teen prostitutes. When my coworker and I found ourselves in alarming situations on nighttime streets, after we decided the best strategy, Alyson would chuckle and say, “Well, this is going to be interesting…” While I often wondered if her view of interesting meshed with mine, I knew she was teaching the value of curiosity. When nothing else can be done but await the unfolding of events, isn’t curiosity a worthy response? 

Worry wants to force the outcome to its liking. It yearns for control, thereby seeking to collapse the unknowable into bite~sized and pleasing morsels. But we can’t know what will happen or what is ultimately best. While our minds thirst toward the future, they do so blindly and without the capacity to weigh the myriad factors that weave together in any situation. 

To show up fully while recognizing how little we actually know, to live graciously with our essential unknowingness, is a life~enhancing stance that opens us to the mystery of existence. We are not in charge here. In any given situation, all we can do is choose the action we feel is best. That action~~even if it is to take no action in that moment~~is our offering to life. And as with any true offering, we must willingly let it pass from our hands. We surrender the outcome~~and ourselves, as well~~to something much larger.

           

The capacity to worry is part of our human wiring. So, too, is the ability to transform that worry into something else. Curiosity. Surrender. And, of course, gratitude. Jazz great Lionel Hampton said, “Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart.” I would suggest a slight change. For me, gratitude is awareness~~a full and rich awareness~~stored in the heart.

We have been granted an opportunity to play our own small part in the vast sweep of life on this planet. When that settles into a human heart, gratitude naturally follows. And that heart must grow larger, simply to hold it. And still it can’t hold it all. Gratitude, and the love it engenders, pours forth of its own volition and out of its own abundance.

Transformation is never easy. Yet lively curiosity and heartfelt surrender, with gratitude and love overflowing, are particularly sweet rewards for our efforts.

Overflowingly yours,

Leia

Harvest Festival

It has happened once again. The turn of that great wheel has dropped us into cool nights, with aspen quivering in all the shades of yellow. The sun slides farther to the south as it travels the sky. Shadows elongate and become more pronounced, a hint of things to come. Autumn has returned…and aimed us straight toward winter.  

Harvesttime has historically been an occasion for thanksgiving. For modern folk whose food comes largely from supermarkets rather than backyard gardens, it’s easy to lose touch with these natural rhythms. But with that first whiff of wood smoke, the plaintive call of southward flying geese, or colored leaves whirring to the ground, doesn’t something in us yearn for return?

And return we can. If a traditional harvest festival is not available to us, we can create our own, pausing to relish the bounty of the past few months in our own lives. Let’s do so now…

Begin by tuning into your body, adjusting as needed to find a comfortable position. Become aware of your breath as you welcome this brief period of stillness and inner awareness.

Now let yourself move back to the depths of last winter. As the film runs forward now, see your life moving from winter into spring, from spring into summer, and from summer to reading now these words on the page. 

Perhaps it’s been a time of great personal growth or change, perhaps not. Whether challenging, delightful or a mix of the two, simply tell yourself the truth about it all. Catch up with your own experience.

No matter the particulars, recognize the fruits of these months~~the lessons learned, the gifts received, the new facets of yourself grown. Just like the corn we savor directly from the cob, extract the nutrients, hopefully even some sweetness, from all you’ve experienced these past few months. 

And with the gifts of these kernels in mind, if any regrets or resentments linger, you might consider releasing them now. Like the cob, the husk, and the stalk, perhaps these things have served their purpose and can begin to drop away. They then become available as compost, energy to be transmuted for the next cycle.

The Autumnal Equinox has just passed. It was the balance point, a place to pause and give thanks before we’re swept forward again. The Equinox is also the harbinger of winter, a reminder that it is time to begin turning inward.

Snow now crowns the high mountaintops, and we shall soon take shovel in hand ourselves. The rollicking expansiveness of summer will find then its counterpoint in the colder, more reflective days of rest.

We’re not there yet, but it won’t be long now. Hear the geese calling...feel the chill in the air...see those leaves brightly shining...and know it is so.

With wishes for a lovely and quieter fall,

Leia