I noticed myself to be a little prickly this morning. A rainy day, and we were all stuck inside. I was attempting to do some online research and spent too much time with my head in my laptop. Small things were getting on my nerves. I could feel myself getting irritated with everyone around me and wanting out.
The rain had tapered off, and I decided to go for a walk. As I walked down the pebbled road, I realized that I did have a thorn in my side. A difficult memory had been triggered earlier in the day that involved an unresolved conversation.
I could feel myself diving into the story of the experience. What I had said and what had been said to me, remembering the difficult feelings that were aroused at the time and have not completely resolved, even if it is supposed to be water under the bridge.
I continued walking on the quiet dirt road, fields on either side, turning into hills and valleys in the distance. I looked out ahead of me and noticed the sweeping clouds across the sky. Some dark and billowing. Others like puffy white layers of cotton spread out for miles.
The clouds can hold so much. That was the thought that went through my mind.
Here is this small mudpuddle of thoughts that I have been splashing around in. The sky is so much bigger than that. The discomfort becomes like a grain of sand on my shoulder that I can brush away. I have this sky to breathe into and these clouds.
With their layers and textures and colors and hues. They can hold all of my discomfort and so much more.
Later on my walk, I felt the unease creeping back in. I was concentrating on the path because it was pockmarked with puddles, thanks to an errant sprinkler in the apple orchard. I had stopped looking at the sky.
As I skipped over the next puddle, I noticed a dim reflection in the light brown water - I could just make out the muted reflection of the clouds above.
Oh. I smiled.
The clouds were still with me. Even in the mudpuddle.
What is your experience of the bigger picture? How might it be of service to you right now?
The rain had tapered off, and I decided to go for a walk. As I walked down the pebbled road, I realized that I did have a thorn in my side. A difficult memory had been triggered earlier in the day that involved an unresolved conversation.
I could feel myself diving into the story of the experience. What I had said and what had been said to me, remembering the difficult feelings that were aroused at the time and have not completely resolved, even if it is supposed to be water under the bridge.
I continued walking on the quiet dirt road, fields on either side, turning into hills and valleys in the distance. I looked out ahead of me and noticed the sweeping clouds across the sky. Some dark and billowing. Others like puffy white layers of cotton spread out for miles.
The clouds can hold so much. That was the thought that went through my mind.
Here is this small mudpuddle of thoughts that I have been splashing around in. The sky is so much bigger than that. The discomfort becomes like a grain of sand on my shoulder that I can brush away. I have this sky to breathe into and these clouds.
With their layers and textures and colors and hues. They can hold all of my discomfort and so much more.
Later on my walk, I felt the unease creeping back in. I was concentrating on the path because it was pockmarked with puddles, thanks to an errant sprinkler in the apple orchard. I had stopped looking at the sky.
As I skipped over the next puddle, I noticed a dim reflection in the light brown water - I could just make out the muted reflection of the clouds above.
Oh. I smiled.
The clouds were still with me. Even in the mudpuddle.
What is your experience of the bigger picture? How might it be of service to you right now?
 | Jessica Curtis is a professional coach who helps people cultivate intention and live from a place of meaning and authenticity. If you think you could benefit from working with Jessica or want to invite her to work with your group, reach out to start a conversation. |
Sign-up to receive my newsletter and blog to your Inbox:
RSS Feed
