Tag Archives: mindfulness

Photo Friday: Facing Our Fears

Photo Friday: Facing Our Fears.

What do I fear? I think frequently what I fear is not the matter in front of me, but the idea that something I face and faces me is different and there is potential for change I cannot control.

We separate from the world in ways that allow us to think as spectators. As Renate suggested, once we remove the medium through which we view the world, in this case a spider, it moves closer to us.

Yet, we cannot escape danger. We face it each day, perhaps each moment in some ways unknown to us and that presents a danger itself. We lose sight of the world we live in.

Gospel

The world gospel comes from the Greek and Latin meaning “a reward for bringing good news.” When we walk through life and notice what we experience we are rewarded. It requires a mindful and thoughtful approach noticing the old and the new sharing space with each other; dependent upon each other.

We are dependent on what is there. Thich Nhat Hanh suggested a garden’s weeds enable the growth of new plants. Farmers plow the previous year’s growth under avoiding erosion, adding nutrition to the soil, and helping keep moisture. We do not know whether the news is good until we pause and remember the context behind the news. What did that “bad” news really mean? When we listen more closely, we hear the music of the world singing a different refrain for us.

Philip Levine wrote this wonderful poem. I thought about what it means to receive news. Perhaps that letter in his pocket was not bad news, but, once he was over the pain, he found something new that he had not sensed before.

The new grass rising in the hills,

the cows loitering in the morning chill,

a dozen or more old browns hidden

in the shadows of the cottonwoods

beside the stream bed. I go higher

to where the road gives up and there’s

only a faint path strewn with lupine

between the mountain oaks. I don’t

ask myself what I’m looking for.

I didn’t come for answers

to a place like this, I came to walk

on the earth, still cold, still silent.

Still ungiving, I’ve said to myself,

although it greets me with last year’s

dead thistles and this year’s

hard spines, early blooming

wild onions, the curling remains

of spider’s cloth. What did I bring

to the dance? In my back pocket

a crushed letter from a woman

I’ve never met bearing bad news

I can do nothing about. So I wander

these woods half sightless while

a west wind picks up in the trees

clustered above. The pines make

a music like no other, rising and

falling like a distant surf at night

that calms the darkness before

first light. “Soughing” we call it, from

Old English, no less. How weightless

words are when nothing will do.

Lighthouses

Lighthouses.

Bill provides a quote from Anne Lamott. I began to read her work recently and found it humorous and inspiring.

When we have principles and are grounded, there is no need to run around trying to impress. We stand as beacons casting a light all around us inviting the world into us and joining the world as full participants.

Dear Universe

Dear Universe.

When you go to the linked article, you will see it is dated. However, it is not dated in that it carries a timeless message that we are able to share each day.

Kathy and I were blessed with our first grandchild in April, 2014. He is beginning to walk and his reach in the world is growing.

Similar to Mimi, new questions arise as we enter into a relationship like grandparents. We become elders and see the world through a new lens. When I spend time with our grandson, I do not feel rushed like I did at times when I was a parent with young children. I enjoy his laughter, when he plays with the little boy in the mirror, and as he snuggles and falls asleep in my arms.

I wish for a better world for all our grandchildren and children. One where we see each other in our human being and human becoming.

Love’s Exquisite Freedom

The Trappist Monk Thomas Merton wrote that we call it falling in love because it does bring painful moments and it is in overcoming the pain we experience that love means so much in our lives. Maya Angelou shared a similar view of love in this wonderful poem. When we look back on life and love, we remember the pain that come with both as strengthening our lives and love. Real love costs us all that we are, but it makes us more whole than who we are.

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient memories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

* Inspiration – Happiness

* Inspiration – Happiness.

The Charles Schultz quote and Snoopy cartoon inspire. We only have to be attentive to realize what we love in the world.

Pursue Only Those Things That Capture Your Heart

Pursue Only Those Things That Capture Your Heart.

The wisdom  shared at the post reminded me about a comment made in a class several years ago. A colleague mentioned in ancient Hebrew the concept of catching one’s eye was almost literal. When we see something, it reaches out and takes hold of us in ways that are not explainable in words.

When something goes beyond the eye and finds the heart, it stays with us and we find meaning in that event. When we are mindful and attentive to those things which touch our hearts and catch our eyes, the world lights up and the ordinary becomes extraordinary.

They say it’s your birthday…

They say it’s your birthday….

It was Alice Walker‘s birthday yesterday and the post linked includes a poem by her entitled We Alone.

It reminded me that we alone have the ability to make the world a better place as we work together in collectives called we alone.

Sixth sense

Sixth sense.

The poem at the link is a wonderful description of poetry as a sixth sense.

Poetry is like a sense which brings all the other senses alive and into sharper focus. We are able to read the words and enjoy their fuller meaning in the spaces between each word, each line, and each stanza.

We relive poetry over and over in new ways and embody the meaning in who we are and who we are becoming.

Straight Talk From the Fox

Mary Oliver, one of my many favourite poets, speaks often of our relationship both to and in nature. We are not separate from nature, but a part of it and relate to all its elements, sentient and non-sentient. We relate to nature and all its elements as a participant and not an external, passive observer.

Our observations are not something we can full grasp and write down. The closest we come is expressing what we feel in writing poetry and sharing photography.

Quite often, we are dumb to what happens around us. Other moments, we awake and soak it in through all our senses, embodying what the fox tells us and feeling so close to what we experience in those moments.

Listen says fox it is music to run

over the hills to lick

dew from the leaves to nose along

the edges of the ponds to smell the fat

ducks in their bright feathers but

far out, safe in their rafts of

sleep. It is like

music to visit the orchard, to find

the vole sucking the sweet of the apple, or the

rabbit with his fast-beating heart. Death itself

is a music. Nobody has ever come close to

writing it down, awake or in a dream. It cannot

be told. It is flesh and bones

changing shape and with good cause, mercy

is a little child beside such an invention. It is

music to wander the black back roads

outside of town no one awake or wondering

if anything miraculous is ever going to

happen, totally dumb to the fact of every

moment’s miracle. Don’t think I haven’t

peeked into windows. I see you in all your seasons

making love, arguing, talking about God

as if he were an idea instead of the grass,

instead of the stars, the rabbit caught

in one good teeth-whacking hit and brought

home to the den. What I am, and I know it, is

responsible, joyful, thankful. I would not

give my life for a thousand of yours.