Peace, Encouragement, & Hope (No. 4)

My daily practice changes every couple of months.  

In the darker half of the year, especially between October and December, it’s about slow, deliberate, quiet mornings. 

So, right now it’s about waking up really early in the morning, like 5:30am.  It’s still dark outside.  The house is dark except for a few choice night lights and the heater stove on the mantel, illuminating the living room with soft, orange, dancing, flickering fire light.   

Everything feels quiet.  I feel like I’m the only one awake in the whole neighborhood (unlikely; but, it’s nice that it feels that way). 

I get the cats situated first, their food and water.  They’re still asleep, but when they wake up and come into the kitchen, groggily, they’ll be met with a fresh breakfast, and that makes me happy to provide that for them.   

Then, I sweep the house.  Light the candles that wake up my household altars.  Light the incense on my hearth.   

Then I set my coffee to brew so it’s ready when I’m out of the shower and dressed.  

Once all of this is done, it's barely 7am, and I have all this time to relax and plan for the day!  And, that’s my favorite part.   

I listen to a little NPR.  I make my to do list.  I read a little.  I stand outside on the porch and enjoy the crisp late autumn air.  And, I usually have a meditation piece, something specific that has stuck with me.  It can be a piece of writing, a painting to meditate upon, or a song I enjoy listening to on loop.  Whatever it is I spend a week or so letting it first sink into my mind, and then into my body.   

Below, I’m sharing this week’s piece (peace): The Manifesto of Encouragement, by Danielle Laporte.

I hope that,  

despite all that is on your plate,  

despite all that is on your to do lists,  

that is on your mind,  

on your heart,  

I hope that you find even just a little bit of space,  

some time that is just your own,  

to nourish yourself,  

eat something delicious,  

rest your eyes,  

or gaze out the window at the colors of the morning or evening sky,  

or work on an art or craft project.   

Something, 

That is just yours, 

And helps you re-center and re-locate Joy in your life, 

That keeps kindled the flame of Hope. 

THE MANIFESTO OF ENCOURAGEMENT 

DANIELLE LAPORTE 

[NOV 9, 2020] 

Right now there are Tibetan Buddhist monks in a temple in the Himalayas endlessly reciting mantras for the cessation of your suffering and for the flourishing of your happiness.

Someone you haven't met yet is already dreaming of adoring you.

Someone is writing a book that you will read in the next two years that will change how you look at life.

Nuns in the Alps are in endless vigil, praying for the Holy Spirit to alight the hearts of all of God's children.

A farmer is looking at his organic crops and whispering, "nourish them."

Someone wants to kiss you, to hold you, to make tea for you.

Someone is willing to lend you money, wants to know what your favorite food is, and treat you to a movie.

Someone in your orbit has something immensely valuable to give you — for free.

Something is being invented this year that will change how your generation lives, communicates, heals, and passes on.

The next great song is being rehearsed.

Thousands of people are in yoga classes right now intentionally sending light out from their heart chakras and wrapping it around the earth.

Millions of children are assuming that everything is amazing and will always be that way.

Someone is in profound pain, and a few months from now, they'll be thriving like never before. From where they are, they just can't see it.

Someone who is craving to be partnered, to be acknowledged, to arrive, will get precisely what they want — and even more. And because that gift will be so fantastical in its reach and sweetness, it will quite magically alter their memory of angsty longing and render it all "So worth the wait."

Someone has recently cracked open their joyous, genuine nature because they did the hard work of hauling years of oppression off of their psyche — this luminous juju is floating in the ether, and is accessible to you.

Someone just this second wished for world peace, in earnest.

Some civil servant is making sure that you get your mail, and your garbage is picked up, that the trains are running on time, and that you are generally safe.

Someone is dedicating their days to protecting your civil liberties and clean drinking water.

Someone is regaining their sanity.
Someone is coming back from the dead. 
Someone is genuinely forgiving the seemingly unforgivable.
Someone is curing the incurable.

You. Me. Some. One. Now.