MarcoClicks Weekly

Solitary

The day is rich with texture and sound, even though it is quiet. My surroundings move and pulse, yet the activity is invisible, internal. It is sensed, not seen, the work of natural forces I walk among endlessly, often without noticing.

Today is different. As my physical body gently drops into a fluid congestion, I become more attentive. With the clarity of decreased capacity, I slow down so that I might search out moments of connection – with my heart, with all my body – so that I can focus more directly on what is needed.

 And what is needed, more often than I realize, is this attentiveness. The play of body’s shifting needs can align with how I spend my days. I am brought closer to understanding presence beyond this physical moment and its limited definitions. 

I pray that I may manifest this awareness more fully in my life, to move into acceptance and pleasure even in the face of distress. Our lives are filled with sensations: may I find peace and healing in them all.

Blessings,

Marco

Time and again

This is the time of transition. Ah, yes,it is that, although it is always. Yet in this moment, it is more clear, more focused, more immanent. We move from the languid moist air of summer into something drier, more chill, and we sense the changes that will come.

Oh, the power of moving into the dying time! It is a relief from the abundance of creation, because it forces our attention onto what we will decide to treasure. There are parts of the world where opening and blooming are always apparent. Here, in this place, it requires great attention to see the abundance and the rich, delicate life that is retained within the dying. 

Ahead lies the wicked weather. The joy of coming in from its torrential hold on us is a northern blessing. At that moment, we are meek in the face of this natural world, a stance that we might treasure rather than attempting blandly to overcome or ignore its force. 

Ah, and all of this from some dying leaves, as common in July as this September day. Yet I know, in my heart and after sixty-odd rotations, I know what is coming. I cannot fool myself and, indeed, I have learned not to try. Instead, I work to become radiant in its chill.

Blessings,

Marco

Rough and smooth

There is nothing to know, at least nothing I can focus on in this moment. I can only remember the first truth, supposedly noble, and look for some comfort there. Hard to find. Hard to even look.

Yet here I am, in this place surrounded by what I might see as beauty, unable to focus my eyes to see anything much less beauty. And as I slow my breathing, I can recall, dimly, that this must be my choice. There must be some lesson here for me.

And here is what comes to me: There is nothing you can do to stop the decay or the illness or the discomfort that assails your world. In truth, it is not your job, much though it feels like it is. Instead, your job is to love, your job is to surround the fear, not in order to contain it but to love it. 

Oh, to sit in the fire of your fear with open heart, to sit in those moments and radiate as much love and kindness and compassion as you can. Tears come and, more slowly, small smiles. These are all a recognition of your lineage of worry that may yet transition into something more skillful, more beautiful. This is the dance, dear one, the sacred only dance - to love in the face of whatever steps into your path. That is all you need to do. Now or ever.

Blessings

Marco