We can only make one choice. Throughout our lives, we do only one thing – again and again, moment by moment, year by year. It is how we live our days, and it is how we shape our lives. The choice is this: what is the next right thing for us to do? Where, in this moment, shall we choose to place our time and attention? Do we stay or move, speak or keep silent, attend to this person, that task, move in this or that direction? …Our choices are small, quiet, intimate things that flow from us as water from a mountain spring, simple, endless, each thimble of water tumbling into the next, creating a small stream that somehow…inevitably, finds its way down the mountain to the sea.
Wayne Muller, A life of Being, Having and Doing Enough
The source of forgiveness lies in the realization that we are not solely products of what was done to us, the realization that there is something essential within us that is not necessarily tarnished by calamitous experience…. There is a [… ] capacity for joy or love that is not dependent on external circumstances, not compromised by trauma or mistreatment, and capable of surviving destruction. 
As the holidays season approaches we may be finding time to wind down, rest, and simply be, without the constant demands to do and to achieve. Our restless, always-switched-on society does not encourage the development of time spent strengthening our capacity to be with ourselves. As a result we see the sad effects isolation and alienation, as well as the difficulties that occur in a world that tends to define people in relation to they appear to others. When we practice meditation we are showing a profound act of gentleness towards ourselves, because we allow ourselves to simply be, without any need to achieve or do, or any link to appearing special. It can be one means of transforming our deep aloneness into a kind solitude rather than into the fearful, judgemental, loneliness which many feel:
We seldom become all of who we are until forced to it. Some say that something in us rises to the occasion, that there is, as Hemingway called it, “grace under pressure” that comes forth in most of us when challenged. Others say this talk of grace is merely a way to rationalize hard times and painful experience, a way to put a good face on tragedy. Yet beneath all the talk of tragedy and grace, I have come to believe that we are destined to be opened by the living of our days, and whether we like it or not, whether we choose to participate or not, we will in time, everyone of us, wear the deeper part of who we are as new skin. Either by erosion from without or by shedding from within – and often both – we are forced to live more authentically. And once the crisis that opened us passes, the real choice then becomes: Will we continue such authentic living?
Our habits and patterns can feel just as frozen as ice. But when spring comes, the ice melts. The quality of water has never really disappeared, even in the deepest depths of winter. It just changed form. The ice melts, and the essential fluid, living quality of water is there. Our essential good heart and open mind is like that. It is here even if we’re experiencing it as so solid we could land an airplane on it. When I’m emotionally in midwinter and nothing I do seems to melt my frozen heart and mind, it helps me to remember that no matter how hard the ice, the water hasn’t really gone anywhere. It’s always right here.
We are so achievement-orientated that we often surge right by the true value of relating to what’s before us, because we think that accomplishing things will complete us, when it is experiencing life that will.
Mindfulbalance 