Category Archives: Mindful Life

i thank You God for this most amazing

Posted on March 14, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

e. e. cummings was a poet who loved playing with language and its rules. We see this where he makes up words and excludes capitalization except for two words.

Poetry allows me to explore the world in new ways such as watching for the leaping greenly of trees and all those things which are yes. It is in the cracks that appear in poetry that light shines through.

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

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Posted in Mindful Life, Nature in All Its Glory, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, e. e. cummings, i thank You God for this most amazing, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Coyote

Posted on March 11, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

As I read this weekend, I found Peter Blue Cloud poem. Blue Cloud subtly describes an interconnectedness quite, often overlooked in daily life, that exists in the universe. When we step away from life’s busyness and impersonality and move slowly, gracefully and intimately we explore and connect in the world instead of being outside it.

Indigenous cultures, through tricksters, understand the world as a space humans live in. Coyote is a trickster in many North American aboriginal stories. Through coyote, Peter Blue Cloud reminded me I live in the world and not outside it or beside it. I made whole in this relationship.

Ecologically and ideally, classrooms, students, and teachers are nodes on vast interconnected webs across time and space. Seen this way, education is a reverent, holy space binding us together as it holds stories across cultures and generations. We hear the voices of all, particularly those who live on the margins.

by starlight hush of wind the owl’s voice,

the campfire embers glowing inner universe

by firelight smoke curls weaving faint the voices,

coyote voices faint the pain and smell the pitch,

fire, I sing you stars,

fire, I breath obsidian

& again the owl’s shadow voice leans back

into times past

slinging firs fire,

brittle spine bent bowed toward the fire,

voices low to murmur a child whimper,

deer fat sucked upon to gentle dreaming,

the mother her song the night cradles,

child, the owl, too, has young,

tiny hears and warmth of down,

& old man coughing guttural spit to fire,

young people giggle beneath hide fondlings,

soon to sleep,

again coyote voices drown the mind in a loneliness

of deep respect in love of those who camp

just up the hill,

& tiny crystals of tears spatter the dust,

my people,

legs cannot every carry me back to you,

soul that holds you

forever.

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Posted in Community, Education, Leadership, Mindful Life, Nature in All Its Glory, Poetry and tagged community, coyote, creativity, education, indigenous cultures, Mindful Practice, nature, Peter Blue Cloud, poetry, spirituality, stewardship, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

This is what you shall do

Posted on March 9, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

This is not a poem, but Walt Whitman used poetic language and deep meditative thought it qualifies. He used language in ways that are politically incorrect today, but provided considerable insight into what it might mean to be a servant-leader and live in the world that way.

I become part of the world and it is embodied in me in such remarkable ways as I learn from the world. I think that is the counsel that this passage provides for me and asks of me.

“This is what you shall do: love the earth and the sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning god, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons with the young and the mother of families, read these leaves in the open air every season in every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body…”

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Posted in Community, Leadership, Mindful Life, Nature in All Its Glory, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath, Social Justice and tagged community, creativity, education, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, servant-leadership, spirituality, teacher as transformer, This is what you shall do, Walt Whitman. Bookmark the permalink.

Prayer

Posted on March 7, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

I had not heard of the poet, Clarissa Pinkola Estés, until a couple of days ago. I found her work and it is inspiring.

Expanding horizons is part of life. We cannot experience or know what is outside the horizons. Moving towards new horizons is an act of faith drawing people towards something in life. Life, in this sense, is a constant prayer, a listening event about what is important and seeking it out.

A Prayer
Refuse to fall down
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.
If you cannot refuse to stay down,
lift your heart toward heaven,
and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled.
You may be pushed down.
You may be kept from rising.
But no one can keep you from lifting your heart
toward heaven
only you.
It is in the middle of misery
that so much becomes clear.
The one who says nothing good
came of this,
is not yet listening.

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Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged A Prayer, Clarissa Pinkola Estés, creativity, Mindful Practice, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

I Want to Write Something So Simply

Posted on March 5, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

Mary Oliver has a magical way of writing. There is a simplicity in her writing that is moving and stirring. It always gently reminds us that we are not alone even when we are alone. We are part of a larger complex called humanity which has many common shared loves and pains. When we pause, even for a moment, we get a sense of this largesse.

I want to write something
so simply
about love
or about pain
that even
as you are reading
you feel it
and as you read
you keep feeling it
and though it be my story
it will be common,
though it be singular
it will be known to you
so that by the end
you will think—
no, you will realize—
that it was all the while
yourself arranging the words,
that it was all the time
words that you yourself,
out of your heart
had been saying.

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Posted in Community, Leadership, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged community, creativity, I Want to Write Something so Simply, leadership, Mary Oliver, Mindful Practice, poetry, servant-leadership, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Men Say They Know Many Things

Posted on March 1, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

Henry David Thoreau wrote this poem at a time he could not have foreseen where we are with the thousands of appliances. He thought it was only a thousand appliances. There are times I get lost in them and forget they are separate from me and only tools that enable a particular job. At the same, I realize used wisely they advance life and the tasks involved.

The arts and sciences blend together, but I would take it a step further and suggest that the spiritual and the sciences are not separate from each other. When I take time and see life through a lens that allows me to understand what is at hand, I can make wiser decisions and feel that wind blow.

Men say they know many things;
But lo! they have taken wings, —
The arts and sciences,
And a thousand appliances;
The wind that blows
Is all that any body knows.

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Posted in Mindful Life, Nature in All Its Glory, Poetry, Sabbath and tagged creativity, Henry David Thoreau, Men Say They Know Many Things, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Snow

Posted on February 25, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

I chose this poem by Louis MacNeice for various reasons which is one of the poem’s underlying themes. The poem is about the fragmented ways we see the world. Humans are limited in that sense, but being mindful, present, and attending to our immediate world begins to offset this and present a more complete picture.

There is always a (w)hole in the hole, a sense of mystery, but it seems less challenging and we see the extraordinary we might otherwise miss. We are in the world not separated from it by windows and walls we construct.

Spokane received snow yesterday and it is easy to wish spring were here or summer. But, the snow added a backdrop and left provided a crisp world that has lasted into today.

This morning, I watched a squirrel tentatively climb snowy tree limbs. It moved slowly, but eventually reached its food. It was a blessing to be in the world and not outside.

The room was suddenly rich, and the great bay window was

Spawning snow and pink roses against it

Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:

World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,

Incorrigibly plural, I peel and portion

A tangerine and spit the pips and feel

The drunkenness of things being various.

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world

Is more spiteful and gay than an one supposes–

On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one’s hands–

There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

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Posted in Leadership, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, leadership, Louis MacNeice, Mindful Practice, poetry, servant-leadership, Snow, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Otherwise

Posted on February 22, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

There are always otherwises in life we can never know, because they have not happened and perhaps never will. In many ways, I am grateful for not having experienced the otherwises that might replace getting out of bed on two strong legs or eating my cereal, breakfast bar, and banana each morning. Or, drinking tea as part who I am.

Jane Kenyon wrote about things we take for granted because they are ingrained in who we are and we pay little attention to them. They are the ordinary things that in many ways are extraordinary.

I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.

At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.

I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.

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Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged creativity, Jane Kenyon, Mindful Practice, Otherwise, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

The Way it Is

Posted on February 21, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

I chose this poem by William Stafford after comments I shared with David at The Dad Poet about poets we enjoyed. Those are not short lists. David reminded me of William Stafford who writes in both a simple and complex way as well. He tells us with simplicity that there is a thread that connects us all and to all things.

More importantly, perhaps, it connects us to our self. We cannot describe it. We know it is there and by holding on life unfolds the way it should without us knowing exactly what that means. The connections to others provide safety and love that we know there are people, places, and spaces to turn towards during the more difficult moments.

There’s a thread that you follow. It goes among

things that change. But it doesn’t change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about this thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can’t get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt

or die; and you suffer and get old.

Nothing you can stop unfolding.

You don’t ever let go of the thread.

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Posted in Community, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged community, creativity, Mindful Practice, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer, The Way it Is, William Stafford. Bookmark the permalink.

Chuang Tzu And The Butterfly

Posted on February 18, 2014 by ivonprefontaine

Li Po wrote poems that asked questions. A common theme was drinking alcohol, but, when I read his poetry, I wonder if it was alcohol or his intoxication with the world he lived in? What is real and not real sometimes blurs boundaries and we ask questions about what is real and not real. Who is the leader and who is not appears in Li Po’s poetry.

Herman Hesse blurred the lines between Leo as a leader and Leo as a servant in Journey to the East. Who serves who? What does it mean to lead and serve? There is a Taoist quality in those questions.

Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly,
And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking.
Which was the real—the butterfly or the man ?
Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things?
The water that flows into the depth of the distant sea
Returns anon to the shallows of a transparent stream.
The man, raising melons outside the green gate of the city,
Was once the Prince of the East Hill.
So must rank and riches vanish.
You know it, still you toil and toil,—what for?