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Category Archives: Reflective Moments

Behind your image…

via Behind your image…

Natalie‘s beautiful image and John O’Donohue‘s wonderful blessings serve as reminders that life is to be lived in extra-sensory ways. It is about the mystery we cannot see, touch, and feel about how a flower simply exists to be a flower..

When I have faith in more than what I experience and the mysteries of what that means in life, I feel free to live life and embrace the mysteries of living. Sometimes, it is the simplest forms that escape our attention. It reminds me of the following quote from Meister Eckhardt, which can mean more in a person’s than I can ever know.

“If the only prayer you said was thank you, that would be enough.”

Thanking others as part of being alive and aware of their presence is a simple and profound prayer.

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Merry Christmas

I have been lax with my blogging, particularly the writing part. I plan on being more with it in the New Year.

I posted this post several years ago. It speaks to what I feel about Christmas and what I feel we have lost as it has become more commodified each year.

I recall cold winter nights, almost minus 40 at night. My bedroom window was almost completely frosted over. On moonlit nights, the light kept me awake or that is what I told others.

To give you a sense of how sound travels in the cold, when we are at the farm during the winter, I hear the train (about a mile away) and it sounds like it is coming through the house.

Growing up in Northern Alberta, the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis) and Christmas were a big part of growing up and it was not just their light show. I heard and saw them, dancing and crackling in the night sky. I thought the sky talked to me.

During Advent, my mom and older brothers walked across the street for evening Mass. The younger ones, including me, went to bed. I did not fall asleep right away and watched out the window. I thought no one saw me, but my Mom would come up and tell me to go to bed.

Small children–

Breathlessly awaiting,

Peering through frosted window

Soaking it in.

Heavens rippling–

Lights undulating;

A celebratory fury

An indisputable guide.

This old house speaks;

Nature answers–

Heavens crackle

Sweet symphonic sounds shimmering.

Earth’s floor–

Blanketed in white

Celestial colours speaking

Capturing young senses.

A vivid winter scene,

A sensual, sensory palette,

Reminding us–

Christ’s Mass is here.

pic_wonder_northern_lights_lg

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

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