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Monthly Archives: August 2013

“TIME”

ivonprefontaine:

This is a wonderful reminder about the use of time as it flows along. It is not linear and follows its own stream bed. Without saying a thing, it always surrounds us. Use it well.

Originally posted on Ellie Belfiglio:

Image

Isn’t it a little twisted

Standing straight?

Like a curve!

~*

It’s the life’s breath

Without even a word!

~*

Murmured sound

Through the echo of a sigh

~*

The identity is unique

So unfounded to the eyes.

~*

It’s a creativity,

A bursting power it gives

Night after night

Hour after hour

Time…

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The Coffee Shop

I spend time in the local coffee shops, read, and write. I did a lot of my blogging in that venue; however this summer I rearranged my schedule and blog at home. I notice a gentle energy in these settings and in a busy world it is a place to take time and just be.

The coffee shop;

Misnamed I think–

I sip tea

I try just be present.

We gather;

It is about talk–

A communal space,

Congregate and converse.

Companionship’s richness;

Found in quality

I cannot assign a number

It is a fool’s errand.

It is in laughter,

The reminiscing,

The sharing,

We find ourselves.

Happiness Can Be Your Choice…

ivonprefontaine:

Happiness is a choice. Have a great day everyone. As Kathy would say, “Smile, it will make others wonder what you are up to.”

Originally posted on Practical Practice Management:

We have the choice to choose how we will live each day.  Even though we may walk through the valley of the shadow of death, how we do it is our choice.

Remember you are strong, and each step is your choice, even when you do not feel it is so.  With each step you become stronger.

Look for happiness in the smallest of things, it is there just take the time to look.  Happiness is ours, we can make it happen not only for ourselves, but for those we encounter.  Take the challenge it is so worth it!

Happy Friday my friends…

Picture: Quotesforthemind.com

Happiness_Fotor

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Painting With Words

ivonprefontaine:

I came across this blog yesterday and the first poem I read was this lovely one about poetry. We are each poets in our own right.

Originally posted on Book to the Future:

painting

Painting with words is easy.

For you, it is innate

broad brushstrokes slashed across new canvas

bringing people into your thoughts, your heart

The most intimate touch of oneself on others.

*

Glorious words are the medium with which you paint

your love, on the pure and powdery white of the paper.

The sound of the brush, the friction with the yielding surface, the curves,

the nuanced magic of mind and hand connected,

The mysteries solved, the enigma remaining.

*

Lines defining thoughts and feeling,

delineating between fading and brightening of images

shading so perfect as to tint your readers’ heart

Sending it through the cosmos to us denizens of your wondrous kingdom.

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The Layers

Stanley Kunitz wrote this lovely poem about life and the journey we take. I look back and I am tempted to see litter and not layers of good. It seems so much easier, at times, to see the past in this light. Something speaks to me from deep within me and reminds me to consider the good that happens. When I take time and place this at the forefront there is so much more energy given to live and know I am not done with the changes.

I have walked through many lives,

some of them my own,

and I am not who I was,

though some principle of being

abides, from which I struggle

not to stray.

When I look behind,

as I am compelled to look

before I can gather strength

to proceed on my journey,

I see the milestones dwindling

toward the horizon

and the slow fires trailing

from the abandoned camp-sites,

over which scavenger angels

wheel on heavy wings.

Oh, I have made myself a tribe

out of my true affections,

and my tribe is scattered!

How shall the heart be reconciled

to its feast of losses?

In a rising wind

the manic dust of my friends,

those who fell along the way,

bitterly stings my face.

Yet I turn, I turn,

exulting somewhat,

with my will intact to go

wherever I need to go,

and every stone on the road

precious to me.

In my darkest night,

when the moon was covered

and I roamed through wreckage,

a nimbus-clouded voice

directed me:

“Live in the layers,

not on the litter.”

Though I lack the art

to decipher it,

no doubt the next chapter

in my book of transformations

is already written.

I am not done with my changes.

Buddhist Monk Blesses A Dead Man

ivonprefontaine:

This is an incredible blog. I could have re-blogged many posts, but my suggestion is to take a few minutes and spend time there. The posts restore any lagging faith in human kindness and compassion.

Originally posted on Kindness Blog:

A Prayer For The Dead

An elderly person passed away in the waiting hall of the Shanxi Taiyuan train station, China. A monk who happened to be waiting for his train went forth, held the deceased’s hand, and proceeded to bless him.

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I Live NOW!

ivonprefontaine:

We think of mindfulness and presence as being a non-Western way of thinking. Both have played a substantial role in our western culture as is evidenced by the this Emerson quote.

Originally posted on Positive Outlooks Blog:

With the past, I have nothing to do; nor with the future. I live now. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

I live now

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