Dean K Holden
New Wind in Tired Sails

This page seems an idea spot to park up for a time where small islands of words formed by driftwood of thoughts colliding into each other to find comminality.



From A View To Love

We all seem to have a slightly different view of what Love means to us according to the road so far traveled. How much we dare to believe that our dreams could be realized — or how much we might settle for what we feel we deserve, as time helps strengthen our belief in ourselves enabling us to not only receive more love but also to then be able to offer it unconditionally to others. Relationships, I believe, are not limited to one form but to all that wish to journey with us without reservation. DKH

What is love, if not recognizing your partner as being a reflection of yourself and helping you to observe your own insecurities until you are able to see them also?  

Love is recognizing the different values that we may place on the same observations and knowing in that difference lay opportunities to expand our own view and accept there is no one way to see anything. To see through someone else's eyes is to learn the path of compassion.

Learning to love unconditionally creates opportunities to see more fully the nature of our partner which shines through the imperfections like stained glass, helping us to recognize the imperfections of our own.

To truly love is to understand that you can never lose, seeing that each moment with our connection is complete in itself, no matter if it's for the entirety or till that point where expansion withers. It was all as it was meant to be and growth lay in the ability to surrender to that understanding.

Loving is to be able to see your partner at their best even when they may feel at their worst, so you are reminded constantly that they are helping you to become more than you have ever believed yourself to be.

To love completely is to hold back nothing, no matter how much we fear misinterpretation, as love goes beyond the physical, and the denial of it will do nothing but dilute the love in which we wish to propagate our growth.

To love wholeheartedly is to understand that there are no conditions to loving, except the promise to bring the greatest degree of honesty to bear at all times no matter how painful the experience, as pain shared is a discomfort on the way to being released.

To give love fully is to regret nothing, as nothing before that moment existed save the inability to forgive oneself, which is all that holds the past in place. Our hearts are pure, it's only our minds that falter with the weight of the programs our fears have created.  

To make love completely is to agree to surrender everything we have previously observed about ourselves, to become lost in the moment together where perspective knows no bounds and the ability to find ourselves renewed is a relentless possibility.

To create love is to never look towards the weakness in our partners but to their strengths that will in time help to absorb our insecurities and lessen our requirement to feel the need to control, as control is only the measure of what we are trying to control within ourselves.

Love can be a candle that lights the way in the darkness of our fears, illuminating our doubts and sending forth a signal to those that are just beginning to understand that love is the only true road to peace.

The love that we are willing to share may often seem at odds with a world that can appear to be suffering from a lack of it, but those that would seek to cast aspersions on our love in any way, whether in jealousy, envy, or just indifference, are not bad people, they are just people who somewhere along the way have forgotten how to love.  DKH    

       

   MY White Butterfly
THE WHITE BUTTERFLY

You could have flown so high and passed me by, my white butterfly,
But you chose to fade and die under my blue sky
Causing me to wonder why. But then I got to see why it needed to be me, as I had lost my wings and will to try.
So even in death, you were a gift to me, as nature shows us what we are meant to see; if our eyes are open and our hearts are free, then we know there is no limit to who we can be, as we learn to trust in what we cannot see, to reach on high, just like you showed me, my white butterfly. DKH


The Revolving Darshan
 The small wooden bowl turned slowly in my hand, increasing in its significance with every movement of my fingers, becoming the ambassador of all experiences turning full circle. Our eyes clashed briefly as one short of resources but rich in meaning saw the other with resources but lacked meaning.

The saffron-robed monk was descending the narrow path in which I was ascending above the monastery pressed up against the Himalayas and the small river of red robes flowing to and from the Monastery itself ever farther below. A cow, grazing nonchalantly nearby, had decided to take a break on the path the Monk and I were currently navigating.

As the monk drew closer to the cow, I noticed that he chose not to walk around the meditative animal but to come to a halt directly in front of it. My pace slowed as my desire increased to see how this standoff would play out. It appeared as if the cow was also interested as it turned its head slowly towards the monk, who appeared quite content to wait for the cow's pleasure to move from the path.  

The cow and the monk appeared unfazed by the situation as they gazed at each other momentarily, allowing the space to find its natural rhythm. It brought up thoughts within me how I had been intent on my own agenda to a point, that some people were to me just obstacles in the way of my objective. I should have realized that time is only a space to nurture a lesson, and finding the rhythm of that moment would have given me greater access to it.    
A short time earlier, I had been sent to his Holynesses Physician, who placed his hand on my belly before giving me herbal medicine that looked like animal droppings and tasted how I imagined they might be, and I was on the way up the mountain to rest. I could feel from the good doctor that what was ailing me was my solar plexus struggling to process my sense of self because I was also not paying attention to my own rhythm.

The cow, as if accepting a lesson had been observed, slowly ambled from the path to drop down a steep embankment towards a small pasture area somewhere below, freeing up the monk to continue on his way. I silently thanked the monk and the cow for reminding me that we all have our own pace through life and to honor each other's rhythm along the way. DKH

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