Life gets lifey, choose aloha

Life gets lifey.

On this mother’s day, may we remember that we have a choice in how we experience it.

On one hand we suffer, and at times we manufacture our own suffering, all while trying to buffer ourselves from the harshness of reality.

For example, I heard someone today describe how she has to fatigue herself with running twenty miles so that the penetrating struggles of life don’t get to her. And she is sick – has been all week – and can’t imagine not running. She barked at her daughter and left the restaurant without goodbye to her friends. Ouch. 

Another alternate reality, is to live from our vision of love.

For example, a beautiful colleague, from a land far away, wrote to me last week and shared with me her vision of her marriage as a safe harbour and a launching pad.

She has troubles, too. We all do. And she lives from her vision.

I asked her to paint me a picture of the vision of what safe harbour and a launching pad, would look and feel like.

Her reply took my breath away, then I inhaled deeply, sweetly, it was so beautiful.

It so perfectly sums up my wish for all the mothers on mother’s day, for all of us looking for a more extraordinary relationship.

I’m going to share it here with the upmost gratitude, respect, and admiration.

I dedicate this blessing to all of us willing to show up to this moment, and this moment, and yet again.

To choose our vision (aloha) over our troubling stories pilikia). 

May it inspire you as it has inspired me. 

An anonymous mother’s day blessing to inspire you to dream…

of your own safe habour and launching pad of an extraordinary relationship…

• I’d have more energy to bring to others.
• I’d smile at more people.
• I’d crave cake less.
• I’d think of death and soften, instead of cringing.
• I’d weep when I am sad, I’d laugh out loud even more than now.
• I’d make love, and let my sexual energy flow into our sacred dance, using our physical meetings and matings as a crucible for growth, and as a keyhole into you, myself and us.
• I’d be prettier. More radiant.
• I’d insist on finishing our writing projects together and we would make the most of our very different and oh-so-sharp minds and tender hearts, birthing helpful articles to big newspapers occasionally.
• I’d feel calmer about what our children carry into their own relational life.
• I’d stand stronger, as the pain of others crashes into me.
• I’d curl up with you, open-hearted and grateful, daring to bring my truth more often, and owning my shadows more easily.
• Our garden would look even better, and find us playing more often.
• I’d bring more energy to my curiosities, and my business, helping more people and doing so more effectively.
• I’d drink less coffee.
• I’d dance more.
• I’d pick up my guitare again and sing more often. 

Wow, Incredible.