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Dialogue

Dialogue.

The linked poem uses the word nature in an ambiguous and lovely way. Perhaps, we want to know our nature? Or, is it that we wait for nature to reveal itself more fully to us?

When we wait quietly and listen deeply, we hear the questions which are essential to dialogue. It is in the quiet we hear.

Eliminating the Horizon

We need boundaries. They create structure in our lives. Having said this, I think Linda Nemec Foster asks a great question, “Who needs boundaries?” Can we close our eyes and imagine where the earth ends and the sky begins? Or, where the stream wanders it disappears from our sight?

Many years ago, Kathy and I camped with friends at Quesnel Lake, a beautiful and isolated glacially-fed lake, in central British Columbia.

There is a waterfall, named Niagara Falls, that flows into the east end of the lake.They are 30-40 metres high and narrow. As we approached the falls, we cut the boat motor and heard them thundering from about 1 km away.

We chatted and wondered about the waterfalls’ source. We arrived at a consensus is small lake at the base of a distant mountain fed Niagara Creek. I imagined what that looked like as we climbed to where the falls cascaded over the edge. There was a mountain in the distance which seemed to confirm our guess, but our view – our horizon – was obscured.

That evening, as we sat around the fire, we pulled maps out and found the river did not seem to be lake-fed, but just began at the base of a mountain. Today, I see different possibilities in my mind’s eye. It might be glacial fed, spring fed, or emerge from an unmarked, small lake.

When we close our eyes, we imagine what is beyond the boundaries and their limits. We move past horizons as our imaginations lead the way. There are no lines there.

Who needs boundaries?

If your eyes fail to imagine

where the earth ends and the sky

begins, think of a place bereft

of lines: the blue depths of a stream

flowing like hair that will never

be combed. Deep indigo of nothing

but fluid memory ebbing around

blossoms of white asters. “I remember

how flowers feel when you barely

touch them,” says the water. Like leaving

one world and embracing another:

seeds bursting into wildflowers,

clouds changing into rain,

the image of our borders

a mere outline the soul ignores.

ordinary gateway

ordinary gateway.

This is another post that I tucked away some time ago. The image is intriguing. Bert took a picture of a mushroom from underneath which is not where we look at things from quite often. Here, we find an ordinary gateway where the Sun lets us see things differently shining through the mushroom’s folds.

Martin Heidegger, a brilliant philosopher and not so great person, wrote that we can only see the face of an object unless we change our place in relationship to the object gaining a new perspective and insight.

When we change our point-of-view, it is like a new gateway into something we have not experienced. As well, when we go to the backside and underneath, perhaps there is an un-experienced silence. It is like driving past a mountain on a busy highway with its busyness that does not exist on the other sides. When we find those quiet spaces, the silence speaks to us from the object’s essence and something new reveals itself.

 

Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder. |Rumi .

Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder. |Rumi ..

I love Sufi poetry. It resonates over the centuries and carries a gentle and peaceful message reminding us of what it means to live in community.

Rumi provides us with sound advice. It is the gentle rain and voice that carries the fullest message. In the mystery and mysticism, we find our way along the path we live. We grow ever more mindful and attentive to each step taken and our senses come alive.

Love’s Exquisite Freedom

The Trappist Monk Thomas Merton wrote that we call it falling in love because it does bring painful moments and it is in overcoming the pain we experience that love means so much in our lives. Maya Angelou shared a similar view of love in this wonderful poem. When we look back on life and love, we remember the pain that come with both as strengthening our lives and love. Real love costs us all that we are, but it makes us more whole than who we are.

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient memories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

They say it’s your birthday…

They say it’s your birthday….

It was Alice Walker‘s birthday yesterday and the post linked includes a poem by her entitled We Alone.

It reminded me that we alone have the ability to make the world a better place as we work together in collectives called we alone.

Sixth sense

Sixth sense.

The poem at the link is a wonderful description of poetry as a sixth sense.

Poetry is like a sense which brings all the other senses alive and into sharper focus. We are able to read the words and enjoy their fuller meaning in the spaces between each word, each line, and each stanza.

We relive poetry over and over in new ways and embody the meaning in who we are and who we are becoming.

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