Instructions For Having A Soul

This is remarkable.

"from time to time, let it kneel in a place that is holy,

like the simple cathedral of the willows."

Or your favorite spot in the woods, at the river,

in your vegetable garden, a wildflower patch,

a graveside of a loved one, 

next to a puddle mirroring the sky...

make sure to note your own reflection.

"All it wants is to live, to keep becoming."

Stretch ourselves even the tiniest bit.

Applaud vigorously. 

Keep becoming. 

 Let our inside out once in awhile.

"You cannot save the world but you can

open the window for the trapped wren

in the cellar."

We are the trapped wren in the cellar.

"Read a book to a blind man, to your father."

Is your father the blind man?

If not, find a blind man and read to him.

"Tell a child you do believe her anger."

Listen to your own.  Believe it.

Honor it. Let it teach you.

"Make your life the first life you save."

 

In The Hush

"Nature doesn't ask me to toughen up."

It can be a struggle to stay soft when

the world seems gripped by "strong", 

wrong minded humans, attempting to exert

their will upon the rest of us.

"softness is strength, and

that being deeply human is part 

of belonging here."

And we do belong.  We are a perfect fit

no matter who and where we are.

Stay stubborn.

Stay you.

 

Another Morning

Which is exactly why we must remain stubborn

enough to stay.  

PS:  If Hungary can do it, so can we.

 

Hush

"how do hear the wordless, the wise?

. . . the fresh, the new, the true."

I would also include the timeless,

the classic, the enduringly true.

Not the worn out but the worn in,

the time tested.

". . .hush the blast of noise and ask the trees,

the chickadees to point us inward."

What trees do we listen to?

I'd say all of them...the virgin forests,

the sprout, the seedling, the sapling, the mature, the stump...

as well as the fallen, the decomposing, the burning, the ashes and the absent.

The hush within us is where our truest, most alive self resides.

Visiting there is no easy venture yet worth the effort,

even when it leaves you weepy and spent...

truth can be excruciating,

truth can be exhausting.  

Making your own path through it takes

 everything you have been, 

everything you are and 

everything you are becoming

and alchemizes you into the finest, 

supremely intricate, 

endlessly resilient, 

totally irreplaceable 

truly amazing river of goodness 

you already are.

 

Ours Is Not The Task

And here it is: "Any small, calm thing that one soul

can to do help another soul. to assist some portion

of this poor suffering world, will help immensely."

I keep reminding myself of this when things become

so horrifying and unbelievably ghastly.

I repeat any small, calm thing...

any small, calm thing over and over.

It keeps me on the lookout for opportunities.

You never know if your act of kindness becomes 

 the twig that brings down the empire.

It's the accumulation of heartfelt actions

that turn the tide. 

On a slightly different note,

Here is HCR's last statement in her post today

about the end of the civil war.  It's well worth a read.

"The Civil War was won not by the dashing sons of wealthy planters,

 but by men like Grant, who dragged himself out of his blankets and 

pulled a dirty soldier’s uniform over his pounding head

 on an April morning because he knew 

he had to get up and get to work."  HCR

We will not lose our democracy to billionaires.

And every kind gesture to relieve suffering matters.

 

Things Nature Taught Me

Things Nature Is Teaching me...

You can't always trust the weather report...

best to check the sky with your own eyes.

Pay attention to the small things...tiny vignettes

of exquisite art lie in the most unexpected places.

There is beauty in decay.

Soak in the magnificence of the moment.

It can vanish in a heartbeat.

There is always more to learn.

Invisible happenings matter.

There is nothing more astonishing

than a visitation from the wild.

The humblest creature 

is doing mighty work.

There is way, way more going on

than you can see on the surface.

You don't have to remember the name

of something in order to fall in love.

Weeds are in the eyes of the beholder.

There is wonder in the way

things appear and disappear

and appear again, time after time.

 

The Stirring

"I can't help but string words, one at a time,

until there is a web woven from my heart to yours."

What a delicious way to describe what most of us do

with these marks on the page or the screen.

", , ,want to know that you feel it too,

this stirring, this pulse of life coaxing us closer. . ."

Never doubt the invisible web that words can weave

from one heart to another.  It's what makes 

the river of goodness flow strong among us.

It matters.

"Let us scatter our gold everywhere."

As valuable as coins, dollars, investments; arguably more so,

it deposits immeasurable riches into our bloodstream.