Coyote

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.

SILENT MUSIC

I spent a weekend a couple of years ago at a weekend retreat. There was some talking allowed, but it was generally not much more than a whisper. At the end I was surprised to hear my voice and how loud it sounded to me at that moment. The silence of the weekend showed me, as Simon suggests here, that stillness is a space where our soul opens up. That message is central to the writing of Parker Palmer and Thomas Merton. It seems at odds with the busyness and cacophony of our early 21st Century. Each morning I spend time in our small chapel meditating. It began with a struggle to achieve 30 minutes. Now, I walk out and realize I was there closer to an hour most days. Silence is an exquisite space to begin my day.

a success unexpected in common hours…

Thoreau had it right. We need to keep moving towards what we think makes a better world and a better life. Those two things are not mutually exclusive, but require a meditative stance the busyness of the world does not always allow. So, we must seize it even when the busyness is oppressive.

This is what you shall do

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…”

The List – a poem for World Book Day

I enjoy Naomi Shihab Nye’s poetry. Similar to Mary Oliver she finds ways to bring to light things we often overlook and how we calculate the path we want to follow. This stands against a mindful, meditative stance that allows us to just be present to what our life is.

David Herbert's avatarGrits and Grains

The List
By Naomi Shihab Nye

A man told me he had calculated
the exact number of books
he would be able to read before he died
by figuring the average number
of books he read per month
and his probable earth span,
(averaging how long
his dad and grandpa had lived,
adding on a few years since he
exercised more than they did).
Then he made a list of necessary books,
nonfiction mostly, history, philosophy,
fiction, and poetry from different time periods
so there wouldn’t be large gaps in his mind.
He had given up frivolous reading entirely.
There are only so many days.

Oh, I felt sad to hear such an organized plan.
What about the books that aren’t written yet,
the books his friends might recommend
that aren’t on the list,
the yummy magazine that might fall
into his hand at a silly moment after all?
What…

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Choosing A Bad Attitude

Choosing A Bad Attitude

This is great advice with a humourous picture that one can smile with.

Tina Del Buono's avatarPractical Practice Management A Division of Top Practices

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I came across this picture and quote and could not resist posting it.  It is amazing what we can or cannot accomplish just because of the attitude that we choose.  

Do not lose one moment or one opportunity because you have chosen the wrong attitude…. We only have one life to live and no matter how long you are here it is too short!!!

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Prayer

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.

Solitude…

Solitude is important. I find that spending time with my self can be quite challenging. Things I do not want to see or talk about emerge and ask to be heard out and made visible. I think in that way there is a poet inside all of us. We need the solitude to allow the light to seep through the cracks and help us find our way.

annjohnsonmurphree's avatarann johnson-murphree

Waking with a poet’s sigh, always alone,

in a fantasy world, mind and heart has

gone to live, to write a poet’s song.  Heart

made to live alone, words abundant

thoughts strong, the poet always alone.

Cut the strings that hold back the tide

that carries words like a bride; to the

blank page a groom of her dreams,

bonded together to the page they cling.

Happiness, humorous, sad or deadly,

at last it laid upon the poet’s desk, the

last word written; the poet did their

best.  Within the poet, darkness

dwells as it looks for a brighter sphere,

a home for the well of words, where

words may find a home; but the poet is

always alone.

©2014.solitude.annjohnsonmurphree
At Amazon.com

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Straight From the Mouth of Aristotle! – LOL

This was a good and humourous quote from Aristotle who grasped the challenges of social media 2500 years ago.

Revlang's avatarRalphie´s Portal

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I Want to Write Something So Simply

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.