Now, at the convergence of everything
I’ve done and felt and learned, I know this:
all I want is to live my life
with ease, like a plum petal falling in spring
or autumn’s oak leaf curling inward,
joyfully twirling as it falls, because
everything falls; all our lives we’re falling,
gravity guides us to our graves:
here comes death, but why not
twirl into it with ease?
Why not
live my days as though they rested
in the deep embrace of my
grandmother’s quilts, or were cushioned
by clouds scented with summer rain? Resting
my heart in every moment’s corner of sanctuary,
the infinite fall into peace between breaths, the
ease of creation’s origin sparking at dawn.
Days of ease would invite the binding
of self with motion, with rest, with all;
the graceful knowing, this step
then the next, becoming the steps;
accepting they will vanish…
the ease with which my
mother ironed my blouses and
moved mountains–any that stood
between those she loved and what
they needed. And she loved
everything.
There’s nothing weak
in ease, nothing indolent; it requires
the steel of remaining present
and then melting the steel
by loving the moment, breathing
and releasing, with ease, molten rivers
of love
flowing into other lives, making
them strong as steel. I felt
strong in my ironed blouses,
mountains removed from my path, but I
took years to understand all the
power came from the ease
of living with falling
and knowing
that was Love.
If I could hover
over my past like angels
in movies, I know I’d see
the younger me ill-at-ease,
shining too bright to hide
the dark; dis-eased, as I sifted and
shifted through my 20’s, 30’s,
40’s. No one’s falling here,
I would have said. I wish I could fly
into my spirit as I confined her
joy and fire all those years
and animate that woman
with ease…
but then, I wouldn’t
be where I am now, with you
and everything I love, nearing
the clarity and peace of a life lived
from the stillpoint I seek. I feel like
I’m almost there, like I’m
falling with ease, twirling,
with a tranquil heart of steel,
its molten power soft and
flowing into a world,
that’s waiting
to feel strong
and loved.
© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.
Exquisite. Thank you for your gift of words.
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Oh, Mary, how kind. Thank you so much. I really appreciate your words, too. Be well and safe, and gentle peace to you.
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Your beautiful words are so timely for me today and bring to mind a favourite prayer:
“May we be safe; may we be healthy; may we be happy; may we be at ease”
Thank you 💞🕯🙏
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Thank you for sharing this lovely prayer, antsimon, and, as always, for your kindness in taking time to write. 🙂 be well and safe, and gentle peace to you.
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I loved the memories of your grandmother’s quilt, and the later descriptions of melting steel.
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Thank you, Chel! It’s kind of you to take time to share. I hope you’re well and safe, and finding ways to create. You’re always welcome here! Gentle peace to you.
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Ah, to reach that place…
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Right? I’m finding this year is really deepening that desire. 😉 xoxo, Kitty
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Beautiful. Your words are always inspiring. Thank you. 🙏
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Thank you so much, Lorraine! Blessings to you and to your beloveds during this season of light. Be safe and well, and gentle peace.
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I’m so happy that you are where you are now! It’s sure takes a while to get there doesn’t it, and as you say, the struggles to get there are necessary for the journey. You have such insight! You’re amazing, and I use that word correctly. The photos are stunning. P.s loved your Christmas tree in the last post….wow! Love and hugs to you all.xxxxx
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Thank you, Snowbird! Yes, quite a journey, with many unrecognized treasures along the way…glad I got better at recognizing them. 🙂 Your visits and kindness are always gifts; be safe and well…so excited your vaccines are coming SOON! Love and then more love. xoxoxo
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Ah, Kitty, how wonderful. I feel a case of “If I knew then what I know now” coming on. But as you say so well, we wouldn’t be where we are now, would we? Ease. A gift imparted by one parent, but not the more influential one, and only realized as I grew later into life. Life is funny, is it not? This is such a lovely, lovely piece. And that’s our challenge – to be present in the moment, no matter what it is, and slip into it with ease. Thank you. Always a joy to read you’re writing. Hope you’re feeling spectacular.
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Thank you, Jeanne. Yes, today was happily full of several mini-spectacular moments, and I am grateful. I have amazing friends and they’ve really lightened the struggles this time presents. Life is very funny indeed.
Your visits and comments are so wonderful. I always look forward to them. You’ve reminded me how great it is, truly, more often than not, to look around and be where I am now and the age I am now. As present as possible, yes. As close to ease as I’ve ever been and content with that. Most days. 🙂
Great joy to you as the season widens in light and–I hope–peace. I wish we could rally and turn all our energy and gifts toward supporting those who are suffering right now. There are so many and the needs are so great. Hoping the leadership we need is coming soon.
Be safe, well, and merry, my friend.
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My sentiments exactly! I am a visual artist, 65. I can’t tolerate stress anymore – my body has an allergic reaction to it now. Before, I don’t think I recognized this as I had to keep going – working, taking care of things. Now I am stripped down, reduced like an ingredient to a savory sauce. Distilling. Stilling. Becoming more vivid to myself. Thank you for your dispersing you sprit through your words! I am sure they reach those needing to hear.
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“Becoming more vivid to myself”…how utterly beautiful. Oh, I so agree; aging offers this paring down to our core. It occurs more profoundly, perhaps, if we’ve worked for it and sought a life lived with conscious presence. It seems now, for me, that this moment and the next are not just the best I can tend to, but all the space I want to occupy as well.
I know more clearly who I am (though it’s always a conscious choice to continue discovering our essence, continue paring away), what my limits are, and what I can best offer to the moment, but I need peace and quiet to create, to hear my song as it needs to be sung. I don’t deny the pain and madness in the world, but I can’t be steadily assaulted by it or the demands of those who haven’t defined themselves or their gifts to the world…
I guess I hope what I create will nourish others–and myself–to stay on their own paths of self-discovery…and a lot of this comes through our aging and maturing. As you say, our younger selves had demands on our energy and time that have fallen away. It’s the way the world invites the use of our energy at different stages, but sometimes (I think) not to our benefit. Contemplation and action need more balance.
I’m more and more grateful for the wisdom teachers who guided and provided what my spirit needed to grow, and to my memory for retaining it all the years I didn’t let it feed me. We need our elders, our wise women and men to open those paths for us to travel when/if we’re ready…
Thank you sooooo much for your kind, generous, and nurturing comment. Know it’s deeply appreciated. Peace in your distilling and stilling; be well and safe.
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