Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way round or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves.Bruce Lee
I’m laughing at myself! What a paradox I am. I’ve struggled all afternoon with answering today’s prompt: fluid mind, steady heart. And all because I’ve tried too hard to write this. My mind, stuck on frozen, was not fluid; it had a specific idea of how this piece had to be. All the while, my steady heart was crying out to my mind to quit forcing it. Yet, it’s only after hours of frustration that my brain was willing to listen.
The result of my heart winning the battle of the mind is this: hor d’oeuvres of thought on liquid, mind, and heart.
The lessons from the fluidity of liquids are at once personal and multifaceted.
Those who make fun of crying over spilled milk have never owned a coffee business. I did for many years and cried more than a few times over a pitcher of milk gone airborne. I’m not a physicist, but I suspect the moment liquid hits the air multiplies in volume. How is it a mere two cups of milk or water can splatter and span yards of space
Liquid, in all its fluidity, finds places you never think to look. I’ve lost many a cup of liquid to the floor, walls, and surrounding landscape only to find it later no matter how well I thought I cleaned.
The young scientist (aren’t all children?) learns how most liquids can take three forms: liquid, ice, steam.
Liquid remains fluid until the environment is changed. Frigidity produces ice. Too much heat creates steam.
Seek a mind that remains fluid as water. A heart steady as a compass.
A fluid mind teaches the heart. The steady heart, with its tenderness, anchors the mind.
As in all things natural, balance is beauty.
The mind and heart seek balance. Individually and collectively.
For my mind to function at its best, I must be open to new ideas. It has to have plenty of stimuli to activate creativity and change.
My heart is the most honest part of me.
It doesn’t think; it feels. With its own set of ears, it listens to the inaudible sounds surrounding me.
“That’s your black and white thinking again,” Peg replied in response to a solution I suggested. It wasn’t a particularly kind reply; still, the truth of her words is a reminder to seek mental fluidity. There are infinitely more options, more possibilities than my mind initially can see. There are many facets to a diamond.