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Everyone loves to dance…

via Everyone loves to dance…

This beautiful picture reminded me of the quote:

Sing like no one is listening.
Love like you’ve never been hurt.
Dance like nobody’s watching,
and live like it’s heaven on earth.

To sing, love, and dance, in ways that bring joy to your life and others is a great way to live

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Trusting Love

via Trusting Love

This is a wonderful post about love Charmed Chaos

Love is what makes us human, brings us together, and allows each of us to grow. For humans, love is part of who we are and is instinctual. It does not have to be taught, unlike hate and war.

I used an activity, Culture of Peace, and had students describe the difference between a culture of hate and one of peace. We filled whiteboards describing a Culture of Peace and the conversation ended quickly about one of hate. It affirmed my faith in children and the role of love in their lives.

Paulo Coehlo asks and answers how love comes to be in our lives.

How does light enter a house? If the windows are open. How does light enter a human? If the door of love is open.

#EchoesFromPastEra . . .I seek strength,…

via #EchoesFromPastEra . . .I seek strength,…

This is a beautiful Indigenous passage shared by Purple Rays. I have been thinking of deep ecology more the last few days and this poem reminded me of how I am not separate from the universe and others who share it with me.

Even in an urban setting, nature is immediate and surrounds me, providing context for my life. As I walk, I listen to birds, see squirrels, observe flora, and, sometimes, walk in the rain, as I did this morning.

How I live in nature and in relationship with others I can cleanse my hands and spirit, finding strenght and preparing for the next step in my journey.

I took this picture walking in the river valley, which divides Edmonton. The terns are always there during the spring, summer, and fall. When I walk on the path that is surrounded by trees, at this time of the year I smell how nature renews itself as trees shed their leaves and they are absorbed into the natural cycle.

Gulls at Neurotsis Inlet

Be The Tree #poem

via Be The Tree #poem

I tried to reblog this wonderful poem by Didi, but, for the second time in the past week, I was unable to do so. Instead, I will press it as my sharing for today.

This wonderful poem reminded me of Matthew’s verse (6:28) about lilies of the field growing for the sake of being and making the world a better place without doing so consciously.

The line that stood out for me was life is “not a competetion, a judgement, or a race.” At times. my life and who I am calls me to just be and not plan, worry, and overthink what that means. It means to live meditatively and be in the present moment, mindful and attentive to the world.

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Kathy took this picture while driving through Glacier National Park. The trees add depth, contrast, and boundaries. Taken-for-granted are the trees, which are the boundary between the road and valley in the forefront.

Gallery Hop – I, Too, Sing America: The Harlem Renaissance at 100 Mural Series

via Gallery Hop – I, Too, Sing America: The Harlem Renaissance at 100 Mural Series

This post is a bit longer than ones I usually press, but it brought back memories of teaching.

I taught Language Arts and, as a result, poetry. I was drawn to Langston Hughes who was critical in the Harlem Renaissance, although he was not originally from New York. He was from Joplin, Missouri, found his way to Harlem, and added a wonderful voice through poetry to the Renaissance.

One of the murals in the post is of Richard Pryor who would have begun his career in the latter stages of Langston Hughes’ life. I did not think of it that way until today as I looked at the post and realized there was an overlap in their careers.

Like Hughes, Pryor was not born in New York, but moved there from Illinois. I watched Pryor on the Ed Sullivan Show in the late 1960’s, enjoying his humour and social critique.

I leave you with a Langston Hughes poem: Dreams. I shared this one with my students each year, reminding them to have dreams and chase those dreams.

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

 

The Journey Within

via The Journey Within

Along with two quotes from Rumi and Kahil Gibran, Karen offers four practices to move towards the journey within.

Healing, which shares etymology with whole, healthy, and holistic, needs patience to achieve. There are no quick fixes.

I find an axiom that serves me well is to think of my meditative practices as practice. It is in those moments that the struggle sometimes becomes clearer, making my life wholer. Other times, I fall short.

I told hockey players to take risks in practice and the same can be said for meditation and other practices to make myself whole and healthy. Another practice is walking, which I treat like a form of meditation. I try to remember I am part of nature, not outside it. This helps make me feel more whole.

Let yourself go!

Jasper Trail

A Simpler Life

Kathy and I are doing some house cleaning and it is interesting what we find.

Kathy looked through some papers we had stored and found poetry I wrote in 1969, in Grade 10. There are things that are consistent in life and one of them is seeking moments of solitude and silence, which I wrote about in this poem. I took liberties and edited the poem, orginally called The Simple Life.

It is good to be alone at times,

Sheltered by comforting trees,

The wind singing a song,

Here, I experience freedom and peace,

For the moment, worries set aside.

Minnows dart at the water’s edge,

Dancing between light and shadows,

Seemingly, without a care,

There, they experience home’s safety;

Its primal call.

Here, this is me,

I experience a simpler life;

An unseen hand beckons me,

I wave to this simpler life,

Enjoying it each time I return.

I took this picture in Waterton Lake National Park several years ago. I came around a corner and there was a doe and two fawn. I could have touched the one fawn it was so close, but it was separated from its mother. I stood as still as possible, moving slowly to get the camera ready. The mother whistled to the one fawn and waited until the young one found its way over to her, back to the safety of where it belonged.

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