June’s Poem

June the First.

June 1.

1 June.

Back in May,
I promised myself that I would grant myself one hour each day--with the minutes sequential or over the day--to make space...
for the hour,
for the day,
for the month,
for the life going forward.

What would this look like?

Beginning my day with an intention to flow with the day,
to listen to my promptings, my nudges
to move in the directions of
clearing out,
cleansing,
cleaning.

Interrupting my day's work and play
with the urges as they come
to investigate a closet's contents,
a container's containments,
a drawer's collections
and to dismantle,
assign,
share,
dispose of all that doesn't speak to my soul
or to my memories
or to my immediate needs.

Inserting into my day
teeny tiny practices--
sound
reiki
stillness
silliness
dancing
laughing out loud at everything and nothing
smiling at the sunset
smiling at the cardinal's songs
smiling at the sun filtering through the trees
pausing to listen, to see,
to remind myself to remember that I have broken up with rushing.

For good.
For ever.

The practical aspect?
My sons will not have to wonder about
or wade through
decades of photos and memorabilia.

The magical aspect?
I am making space around me,
in me,
for me.

For the people and things I love.
For the ME that I love.
For my retreats and my coaching,
my teaching and my guiding,
for receiving and for sharing
the dance that is life.

Ah...
you see how the magic outweighs the practical?
But it all counts
because we count!

Tell me...
What does YOUR June look like?

Blessings,
Paula.