You're good enough as you are.
I know, I know, it's so hard to believe that when so little around you serves to reinforce your basic goodness.
You're getting older, five years in the high mountain air of Colorado did nothing good for your skin, so you're wrinkling, despite a daily regimen of toning spray, moisturizers, lotions, and night creams. The grays in your hair grow more numerous than the number of minutes you spend on the cushion each day. Your body complains more than it used to of the hours confined to a cubicle. The pounds don't come off as easily as they are put on.
Although you're not entirely alone in your distance from the sweet scent of dry pine needles and the cooling shadow of the Flatirons, you're alone in your day, working with a capitalistic focus on achievement, accomplishment, income, and customer satisfaction. Your humanness is valued only to the extent that you get the job satisfactorily done. Your coworkers, although kind and quite likable, all maintain a pleasant veneer; cracks in the cheerful facade are best hidden in the privacy of staring at our respective computer screens. So you take your breaks for a well-deserved bout of earthy revival and receive only odd looks and suspicion from the other corporate cubicle veal for the amount of time you spend staring into the purple depths of a desert flower as it is visited by several bees.
But there it is still, your basic goodness. Perhaps the human realm is too driven, too deva-realm, to give you the nourishing you once had, but there is still the earth, the growing things, the brittle smell of desert dust, the skittering lizard, the droning fuzzy bees. The earth and her many animal and plant denizens ignore you in a way that leaves so much space for you to be, where the ignoring of and by your fellow humans leaves you feeling lacking, wanting, judged and judging.
Step out into that clear, clean space of even the tiniest patch of grass in your corporate business park and breathe in a moment of nature's nonchalance. Be you ignored or feared, there's little ambiguity in your relationship to the natural world. You are of it, no matter what human artifice surrounds you and fills your day.
Your basic goodness is there, like the sun on your skin. Like the breeze lifting the faint hairs of your forearms. Like the sound of planes, of traffic, of birds. Your every sensation reminds you of your basic goodness.
Pay attention.
I know, I know, it's so hard to believe that when so little around you serves to reinforce your basic goodness.
You're getting older, five years in the high mountain air of Colorado did nothing good for your skin, so you're wrinkling, despite a daily regimen of toning spray, moisturizers, lotions, and night creams. The grays in your hair grow more numerous than the number of minutes you spend on the cushion each day. Your body complains more than it used to of the hours confined to a cubicle. The pounds don't come off as easily as they are put on.
Although you're not entirely alone in your distance from the sweet scent of dry pine needles and the cooling shadow of the Flatirons, you're alone in your day, working with a capitalistic focus on achievement, accomplishment, income, and customer satisfaction. Your humanness is valued only to the extent that you get the job satisfactorily done. Your coworkers, although kind and quite likable, all maintain a pleasant veneer; cracks in the cheerful facade are best hidden in the privacy of staring at our respective computer screens. So you take your breaks for a well-deserved bout of earthy revival and receive only odd looks and suspicion from the other corporate cubicle veal for the amount of time you spend staring into the purple depths of a desert flower as it is visited by several bees.
But there it is still, your basic goodness. Perhaps the human realm is too driven, too deva-realm, to give you the nourishing you once had, but there is still the earth, the growing things, the brittle smell of desert dust, the skittering lizard, the droning fuzzy bees. The earth and her many animal and plant denizens ignore you in a way that leaves so much space for you to be, where the ignoring of and by your fellow humans leaves you feeling lacking, wanting, judged and judging.
Step out into that clear, clean space of even the tiniest patch of grass in your corporate business park and breathe in a moment of nature's nonchalance. Be you ignored or feared, there's little ambiguity in your relationship to the natural world. You are of it, no matter what human artifice surrounds you and fills your day.
Your basic goodness is there, like the sun on your skin. Like the breeze lifting the faint hairs of your forearms. Like the sound of planes, of traffic, of birds. Your every sensation reminds you of your basic goodness.
Pay attention.
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