The Journey

Hello Friends in Mindfulness, (I can't figure out how to have this not be in all caps, a mystery)

Our last class was March 13.How have you been since then? I put all of my energy into cleaning out my apartment in preparation for me and James to move in together. It was a part time job, cleaning out the 6 to 17 years of memories. Have I really been in Flagstaff 17 years? Distilling all those memories in preparation for the future has been an exercise in mindfulness. Meditation practice has been elusive. I think I was under the impression that I had to do it all and do it right, until a gentle friend asked me how much is enough? Oh!?! So beginning (again) yesterday to practice a little at a time. I miss who I was or am when I meditate regularly. That is a good sign and a motivation. Hope you all have been well. In honor of poetry month and in honor of you here is a poem from Mary Oliver, a fellow traveler of the Southwest:

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
By Mary Oliver