A song by Harry Belafonte …

There′s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza
There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole
Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry
Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it

That’s naturally what comes to mind – a hole in a container is a problem.  The contents will leak out.  Whatever goodness was inside will disappear.  We will lose something.

But what if the leaving is a blessing?  That what goes may be “extra” … not needed anymore.  Instead of being full to the brim, with no room to add more, there is emptiness. 

The dance can happen, with no worry of an flourishing arm hitting the wall.  The breathing is long and deep.  The melody springs forth unimpeded.

What is left after the flowing away?  Perhaps it’s easier to glimpse what has exited – solid stuff, straight lines, the compression of opinion, of needing to be right.

Delightfully unfocused

Open to the universe

At home