Bad News Good News

So perpetually falling through the air

as a normal state of living?

And "there is no ground"

is the "good news"?

Can we discuss this?

Perhaps a conversation with

a skydiver who has experienced

the sensation of falling through air

before pulling their ripcord

can explain why this would be

a grand way to live?

I had a very brief experience of this

going backward on an escalator...

it was decidedly unsettling.

Not a state I'd want to be in permanently.

Thankfully, a stranger caught me.

It was a profound mercy.

I'm wondering if there had been no ground,

if that would have changed 

the sense of terror I felt?

I guess that's the point.

Enjoying the free fall of plummeting

toward the unknown without

the fear of being broken to bits?

It brings to mind the edge of the cliff...

will you fall or will you find wings?

I vote for wings.

 

All We Have To Do

Thich Nhat Hanh  always has comforting and

uplifting things to say, it seems.

"All we have to do is be ourselves,

fully and authentically."

I consider this a lifetime's occupation.

How much of ourselves do we really know?

How much is programmed by others?

It's a rich and fertile contemplation.

"We already contain the whole cosmos."

Ponder these words when you're feeling out of sorts?

Then take a long look at the sky, 

and the land and all its marvels.

Now look into a mirror...we need look no further.

For we are as full of marvels as the sky 

and all it covers, all contained within our own skin.

Ponder that.

You matter!

 

Don't Pretend It Isn't Hard

"Let joy sit beside your pain - not instead of it."

Easier said than done.

I recently had an episode where an hour and a half

was lost forever due to one too many numbers 

in an insurance claim.

The person conveying the pronouncement 

was devoid of even a shred of understanding

seeming to relish her denial.

I was furious.  Driving home fuming, a voice

kept reminding me to look out at the gorgeous

autumn landscape and rejoice instead of rage.

It was asking for the impossible. 

Rage, pain and grief need time to expend their energy.

I'm thinking pain and joy are more like

night and day...each one fully themselves,

and when sitting next to each other, the sky turns pink.

"Because you can be grieving and still be grateful.

Exhausted and still hopeful."

Let's hold onto this as we face whatever lies ahead.

 

Full Moon Over Black Mountain

 

Hope Watches

The gentleness of this touches me, 

chokes me up...

seeing each one of us 

"breathing on the glass, ...each of us writing our name"

with our finger in the fog on the window.

We won't give up.

We're in this together.

May our hopes join forces and cause 

a resounding crescendo of goodness.

 

We Must Learn

My hackles tend to automatically go up when someone starts telling me

what I "must" do.  However, in this case, I will put that aside and

acknowledge the wisdom in the words.

"it is only on the condition of humility and reverence

be[for]e the world that our species will be able

to remain in it."

Early on, I was taught that humility meant meekness.

That does not suit my understanding of what it means to be humble.

I had to do some digging to find a description of humility

that rings in harmony with my bones.  

Here is what I've come up with:

being humble is coming from the ground of on-your-knees awe 

 woven together with the honest acknowledgement of your unknowing,

your failings AND your consumate value and giftedness in who you are

and who you are becoming.

You matter and so does everyone else.

This was my favorite from others:

"Genuine humility means knowing and accepting who we are and who we are not; what we can do and what we cannot do. With this sense of personal clarity, we are able to see how we fit into the grand scheme of life, moving beyond ourselves to recognize, reveal, and revel in the greatness in others."

Mendel Kalmenson and Zalman Abraham 

 

Self Blessing

"let the earth do what the earth does best, which is receive

whatever weight comes."

My body goes blissfully quiet as the words of this poem sink in.

The earth will receive whatever weight comes even as it

breaks my heart to acknowledge what that weight consists of.

May it transform and transcend the heaviness.

"may you carry within you all the quiet, all that glorious still."

This is my wish, my prayer, my desire for you, today and every day.

We're in this together.

I'm grateful for you.