The Most Casual of Moments

"I experienced a sudden impact, a seizure of happiness. It was not

the drowning sort of happiness, rather the floating sort."

"I did not feel that I understood any mystery, . . . rather

that I could be happy and feel blessed within the perplexity."

". . .only a sudden awareness of the citizenry

 of all things within one world. . ."

This is so deeply, quietly, beautiful and potently real.

My breathing slows and settles the rocking molecules

spinning around inside from all the outside "perplexity".

My heartbeat slows as I let her words sink in.

There is space within the tightness of our time.

"the most casual of moments"

I find myself choked up at the thought of

what a legacy Mary Oliver has left for us.

 

With My Open Heart As Bait

"Could I throw out my line to the ocean of the world,

stand there at the edge, patient and still, and say to life,

anything, anything at all, whatever you give me,

I'll reel it in, I'll take it?"

This is a generous thought about awareness and acceptance, isn't it?

Here's my question. 

Do we have a choice?

Aren't we going to be reeling it in regardless?

What is the alternative?

To drop the pole of life and sit there empty handed and witless?

When I think of what we're reeling in right now,

I'm thinking we're doing a mighty good job of taking it.

For me, the question is, now what? 

 I want to toss it in the bin and throw out my line again.

Reel in something with better taste and higher nourishment.

There's a choice!

That's something I'm happy to catch.

If we're speaking of unspeakable tragedy...

Like the loss of a precious someone we hold dear,

I'm not sure I could throw out my line, 

reel it in, take it. Not willingly.

Not sitting still and patient.

I resist extending that invitation.

Thing is, I can't drop this pole of life.

I can only rely on grace to be there

with me to transfigure a grievous catch.

Much easier to write about than to live through.

 

Untameable

"Such writing can open your eyes and your heart...

reenchant your world...rearrange how you see it. 

 It can return you to yourself."

This is the kind of writing I am on the look out for.

It touches my heart, shifts the way I view something,

gives me chills, forms a lump in my throat...

the gratitude and appreciation I feel for those

who open their hearts and share their souls with us is huge.

"I cannot cause light: the most I can do is

try to put myself in the path of its beam."

Isn't this exactly what all of us are doing?

Cosying up as close to the warmth of the beam

as we can get?  Feeling it comfort us and guide us?

It doesn't need a name.  It doesn't need a building.

It needs us, together, soaking up the light

and bringing it with us wherever we are.

 

Extraordinary

"You don't need to do anything."

It's comforting to be reminded of this.

Even as a tiny part of me wants to quibble a bit

as I cannot imagine doing nothing in today's world, can you?

Seems like it would require a host of supporters.

There is an article in Atlantic by Alan Lightman titled

The Ordinary Miracle of Existing which gives exquisite detail 

to how extraordinary it is each of us is here. 

(The link is good for 14 days without a paywall.)

I'm more than delighted to consider myself as

trees, clouds, running water, fllickering of fire,

an arrangement of stars and/or the form of a galaxy.

 

Hibernate

When I ponder how the last 17 years has flown by,

hibernating underground like a cicada sounds alluring.

Then, I think of all I would have missed...some of it gladly, 

but so much, so very much that would have been a tragedy.

It is a reminder of the land of plenty and goodness...

the land of treasured loved ones and friendships,

the land of wonderful books

and special celebrations that I am alive in.

I'm overwhelmed with the joy of being here...

Maybe it takes this long

to understand what an astonishment it is.

If I had a magic wand, I'd give this 

to every 17 year old out there.

Soon enough, I'll get to know what its like

"to intimately be with this ancient breathing pulse,

to settle sweetly into the night,

hugged by the ground"

carried by the sky,

dissolved into the rivers,

able to explore the expanses of outer space,

and the majesty of the mycelial network.

No special equipment needed.

Won't that be something?

 

Within Each One Of Us

How exquisitely rich, insightful and fitting for this time.

And prophetic.  She died in 1992!  

Sadly, it's not a machine.  

It's human beings who live on this earth with us.

Soulless and sad, filled with greed and fear.

Their vibrations rippling throughout our world.

"To overcome another vibration, one must develop the ability to maintain

 a high vibration under pressure and not just seek high-vibration environments."

Author unknown

 

I Know It's Scary

" the real you...

the you you meet in the dark at 2AM"

This is my least favorite "me".

It takes effort to look past the aspects I consider flaws.

She is fearful and mostly focused on failings.

I do not look forward to witnessing her surveys.

I want to run for cover when she shows up.

Yet, she is part of me.  

Instead of dismissing and shutting her out

I hope to listen with curiosity, acceptance and respect,

even when its extremely difficult and 

all I want is to go back to sleep.

Choosing her (or him) is the bravest 

act we can make.

Loving who we find in all our messy glory 

is worth the effort, don't you think?

I'm grateful you are here.