Monday! 

And our “last day” of Arrive. 

I’ll keep my message short because there’s lots of goodness you might dive into today, depending on your time. 

If you missed it or simply want a refresher, you can catch yesterday’s second live meet up below. I had such a phenomenal time with you all. Thanks for being just about the warmest, most receptive bunch to share bigtime confessions with (remember, that space is there for you too!).

I’ll also leave a few snippets below from the readings I shared yesterday. 

But for now — one final meditation to arrive, about 10 minutes long, using an anchor for our awareness that is always with us: the breath. 

Leave a comment, if you feel called to share: Anyone else have a “confession” to make? Or a revision to their intention statement for 40 Early Mornings? :) 

More tomorrow, Cath 

“Ask Me” by William Stafford 

Some time when the river is ice ask me 

mistakes I have made. Ask me whether 

what I have done is my life. Others

have come in their slow way into

my thought, and some have tried to help 

or to hurt: ask me what difference

their strongest love or hate has made. 

I will listen to what you say.

You and I can turn and look 

at the silent river and wait. We know

the current is there, hidden; and there 

are comings and goings from miles away

that hold the stillness exactly before us. 

What the river says, that is what I say. 

And the final words I read from Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation by Parker Palmer, p. 7-8:

“How we are to listen to our lives is a question worth exploring. In our culture, we tend to gather information in ways that do not work very well when the source is the human soul: the soul is not responsive to subpoenas or cross-examinations. At best it will stand in the dock only long enough to plead the Fifth Amendment. At worst it will jump bail and never be heard from again. The soul speaks its truth only under quiet, inviting, and trustworthy conditions.

The soul is like a wild animal — tough, resilient, savvy, sufficient, and yet exceedingly shy. If we want to see a wild animal, the last thing we should do it to go crashing through the woods, shouting for the creature to come out. But if we are willing to walk quietly into the woods and sit silently for an hour or two at the base of a tree, the creature we are waiting for may well emerge, and out of the corner of an eye we will catch a glimpse of the precious wildness we seek.”