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Monthly Archives: November 2013


This is a beautiful quote. I need to remember it takes a risk to move forward and this makes me vulnerable. It is in those spaces I find the creative pieces of my life and the relationships that make life most fulfilling.

Dr Bill Wooten

Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity.  If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.” ~ Brené Brown, Daring Greatly


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Ponder This

I will be a less active the next few days as I wind up some projects. I will post, but need to finish things for the end of the week so I need to balance my commitments as Sartre wisely advised.

Ambition In The City

What are you totally committed to?  What evidence do you have to demonstrate this commitment?


Start taking action towards the things you feel genuinely committed to. Make the choice to step into your power by putting your thoughts into action today. 

Ambition In The City

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I Think Continually of Those Who Were Truly Great

It is the end of a long and busy day. I chose this poem as it explored the need to remember who we are and what we belong to, that which went before us. Stephen Spender suggested it is remembering soul’s history and listen for it in the world.

I think continually of those who were truly great.

Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history

Through corridors of light where the hours are suns

Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition

Was that their lips, still touched with fire,

Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.

And those who hoarded from the Spring branches

The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.

What is precious is never to forget

The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs

Breaking through rocks in the worlds before our earth.

Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light

Nor its grave evening demand for love.

Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother

With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields

See how these names are listed by the waving grass

And by the streamers of white cloud

And whispers of wind in the listening sky.

The names of those who in their lives fought for life

Who wore at their hearts the fire’s center.

Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,

And left the vivid air signified with their honor.

Today’s Quote

This is a beautiful way to come out of Sabbath. Did I live fully? Did I love well? These seem like simple questions, but my guess is they would keep me busy reflecting.

Soul Gatherings

prple rose

At the end of life,
our questions are very simple:
Did I live fully?
Did I love well?

~ Jack Kornfield ~


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As I check out for Sabbath, I came across this playful poem by Richard Wilbur. Some days, it is nice to allow the horse to find the way home. It would our personal quixotic and random journey on that given day.

I found this poem n a book about reading and writing poetry called Rules for the Dance by Mary Oliver. The great poets have an eye for great poetry. Life is a dance that brings its own rules.

I read how Quixote in his random ride

Came to a crossing once, and lest he lose

The purity of chance, would not decide

Whither to fare, but wished his horse to choose.

For glory lay wherever he might turn.

His head was light with pride, his horse’s shoes

Were heavy, and he headed for the barn.

My November Guest

Winter approaches. Today, was a dreary day and the trees are becoming littered on the ground as their leaves fall. Yet, as Robert Frost pointed out, there is something lovely in the barrenness of November days. This reminds me that, as fall turns to winter, of a need for the seasonal shifts that bring new life into the world. It is part of the healing process nature provides.

My Sorrow, when she’s there with me,

Thinks these dark days of autumn rain

Are beautiful as days can be;

She loves the bare, the withered tree;

She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay,

She talks and I am fain to list;

She’s glad the birds have gone way.

She’s glad her simple worsted gray

Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,

The faded earth, the heavy sky,

The beauties she so truly sees,

She thinks I have no eye for these,

And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday, I learned to know

The love of bare November days

Before the coming of the snow,

But it were vain to tell her so,

And they are better for her praise.

measure your life in love

Humberto Maturana proposed “love is the only emotion that expands intelligence.” Live a life of love and know that is its own reward.

Velvet Verbosity: Bend of the River

We stand beside many rivers, literally and metaphorically, without hearing them. when we take a moment and pause, we hear the world speak to us, perhaps even the cosmos when we listen even deeper.

Love After Love

I have thought about this poem a lot lately. It just keeps popping into my head during quiet times. It is a beautiful poem by Derek Walcott. Whenever I read it, it reminds each moment is a fresh beginning and it passes with its own truth contained within it.

As I mature, I get a sense of both getting to know me better and, at the same, realizing how little I know about myself. These feelings would feel counter-intuitive if they did not feel so right.

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

A world starved for solitude, silence and privacy

Solitude is an important of everyday and the quote from C. S. Lewis is a reminder of the important of creating space. We should not try to cure those who seek the space, but stand guard for them as they sit in meditation.

Jubilee Journey

In our own age the idea that religion belongs to our private life— that it is, in fact, an occupation for the individual’s hour of leisure—is at once paradoxical, dangerous, and natural. It is paradoxical because this exaltation of the individual in the religious field springs up in an age when collectivism is ruthlessly defeating the individual in every other field. . . . .


There is a crowd of busybodies, self-appointed masters of ceremonies, whose life is devoted to destroying solitude wherever solitude still exists. They call it “taking the young people out of themselves,” or “waking them up,” or “overcoming their apathy.” If an Augustine, a Vaughan, a Traherne, or a Wordsworth should be born in the modern world, the leaders of a youth organization would soon cure him.

If a really good home, such as the home of Alcinous and Arete in the Odyssey or the Rostovs in War and Peace…

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