Allow for Mystery

When I listen to my inner-critic--when I strive, do, and judge--I become smaller. Both my heart and mind constrict. In these moments, I see only one path; it appears there's a single right way. And this rigid thinking pains me. Luckily, it's simple to switch. If I get outside and look around, I regain my curiosity. A walk in nature loosens my grip and expands my mind. (This is a simple switch, but not necessarily easy. Getting out the door--past the inner-critic--takes awareness and intention.) 

Recently I read Mary Oliver's poem "Mysteries, Yes" (Evidence, 2009). She's masterful at describing mindfulness and curiosity. An excerpt:

"Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous

      to be understood. [...]

Let me keep my distance, always, from those

     who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say

     'Look!' and laugh in astonishment,

     and bow their heads."

We don't have to understand all the mysteries. Life isn't a puzzle we must connect in just the right way. We can relieve ourselves of this burden. What a gift to allow for mystery; to accompany ourselves with laughter, wonder, and gratitude.