Chop Wood, Carry Water

I adore the simplicity of this.

Any tiny task qualifies...

"Every living being devotes their time

to the task of survival."

We are beyond fortunate...for many of us,

survival does not have to be front and center 

on our to-do list.

I deeply appreciate it doesn't have to be.

I want that privilege to belong to everyone.

"From inbreath to exhale,

 from first light to last,

prepare what keeps the fire,

gather what quenches our thirst."

What keeps your fire?

What quenches your thirst?

 

Please Tell Me A Story

Isn't this a treat?

I love the turning of everything inside out and opposite.

"Tell me a story where slivers of mental landscape 

puncture the periphery of deceit and 

shifts in the wind help to balance the 

heavy of unsettled."

Yes, we can puncture the  periphery of deceit!

Let's turn this world around.

"Tell me a story where new only translates 

what the soul knows of ancient."

I'm coming to believe ancient is not the same as old.

Ancient is the invisible and mighty power. . .

the unseen forces working for the good.

It always was and always will be.

The infinite land of soul where magic and 

enchantment become commonplace.

"where grass is fluent in sentient knowledge

and trees are a mandala of prayer."

 

There Are Mornings

"Some mornings in summer, I step outside

and the sky opens and pours itself into me..."

Isn't it interesting?  

Even if its raining, the sky is pouring itself into me...

"But the plot calls for me to live, be ordinary, 

This resonates like a quiet gong with me.

It's everything to "live and be ordinary."

"...say nothing to anyone."

Hmmm...how can one manage this?

It seems ironic to hear a poet recommend saying nothing.

Plus, don't we all speak whether we say anything or not?

Doesn't our body, our presence, speak constantly?

The energy we carry may be silent, 

yet isn't it still telling its own story?

This makes me want to listen more carefully.

Why are the "mirrors burning"?

 

Hope

"in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act."

The question for each of us is: what is mine to do?

"you may be able to influence the outcome --

you alone or in concert with a few dozen or

several million others."

Every Friday, when my daughter calls me

on her way home from work in MO,

she toots her horn at the No Kings folks

who are rallying along her route.

This comes to mind as I read these words.

I am so grateful and inspired to know this 

is happening miles and miles away and 

in so many places across our country.

In big ways and small, people are resisting tyranny.

"It's the belief that what we do matters

even though how and when it may matter,

who and what it may impact, are not things

we can know beforehand.

So don't judge or compare your mattering!

Go about your particular business knowing

you are making an impact for the good.

 

The First Great Thing

"deliverance will not come from

the rushing noisy centers of civilization."

I had some questions around the word deliverance

when I considered sharing this quote.

It brought up some unsavory thoughts in my mind.

However, when I saw Miriam Webster's 

first definition was "liberation", I proceeded.

There are other associations I'm going to dismiss.

"It will come from the lonely places."

It's hard to admit I have lonely places.

Not solitude as in happily engaged with

my own adventures; which is where I'm drawn to,

but lonely as in forlorn, missing out, blue.

Is that where liberation comes from?

I know my appreciation for the medicine

I receive from going outside 

when feeling lonely, blue, confused, 

undecided and/or overwhelmed 

grows as the years stack up.

I’m thinking Mother Earth 

could be the best path to deliverance.

 

All That's Required Of You

"In the end, isn't this all that's required of you?

To drink in what you love,  to concentrate it

in the crucible of your body, 

and, finally, to bloom."

Drinking in what we love...

isn't this the easiest of occupations?

Drinking in the majesty of  

dandelions and mosses,

 earthworms and fungi,

 honeybees, ants and ladybugs,

slugs, spiders, and lichens...

contributing their often overlooked

elegance to our world.

I haven't even gotten to the flowers, trees,

rivers, mountains, ocean and sky yet.

And then there's outer space.

Isn't this intoxicating?

 

When Days Feel Heavy

"Joy that sits beside our sorrow and doesn't walk away."

This is the line that touched my heart and drew me in.

". . .not to erase grief, or answer every question,

but to hold us season after season."

When grief and sorrow take hold of me,

 my strongest inclination is to put as much distance

between us as possible.  To shout NO, NO, NO!

Now I'm asking myself what if I turned toward them?

What if instead of running away, I entered into their space and 

spent some time in their painful presence? 

I can hear the inner voices chiding me for "being negative".

I think I'll ignore them the next time they show up

and see what happens.  It's not negative to be human...fully human.

I realize there are many who are intimately familiar

with their painful, excruciating presence and have no choice

but to show up and live what is happening. 

I bend my knee to you and what you're going through.

Thank you for being here.

May joy find you, always.

 

The Air I Am Breathing

"The elements of the universe are engaged

in their ceremony of delight."

Isn't this delicious?  

"This is my religion."

It cannot be contained inside any building. 

It cannot be contained within a set of beliefs... 

a holy book, 

a closed heart,

or a made-up mind.

They can contribute but not contain...

They can participate but not complete.

 

Listen, I Want To Tell You Something

"I can't tell you what prayer is, but I can 

take the breath of the meadow

into my mouth and I can release it 

for the leaves' green need."

My favorite line, 

a poet's description of photosynthesis. 

in this exuberant cheer

for the countless contributions,

strewn throughout an ordinary day

in this amazing world we live in...

 

The Sun, The Ocean, The Moon, The Trees

Many gems in this tribute to some of Earth's everyday wonders

often taken for granted.  

The sun charging creativity and passion and keeping us warm, 

the ocean healing deeply and literally giving and sustaining life,

the moon reminding us to move with emotion and rhythm,

offering us calm and inspiration, and 

the trees grounding us, modeling patience and strength,

. . .and lessons in how to live rooted and steady.

These words offer me a chance to slow down and

absorb the magnificence of Earth's complexity,

generosity, and dependability. 

It continues to inspire me to do whatever 

I can to honor and protect her from harm.

 

Light Hole

I only know a little about dark holes...

what I do know keeps me at a distance.

Learning that "not even light is fast enough to escape its pull,"

gives a whole new flavor to things.

"Wouldn't it help to name the wide abyss in the center of your

heart a cauldron of brimming hope?

Reading these words and imagining my heart 

as a cauldron brimming with hope is an enchanting affair.

It makes me want to fling open 

the inner doors and windows

so this hope can permeate every vein, 

every artery. every inch

of inner soil.

"There can be no further collapse.

Only the steady evaporaton of a love so singular 

it ends in a flash, a final sung note

made by the immensity of what it carries."

This is so potent when I think of my life force,

with its steady evaporation...

 I find myself lost for words... 

stunned by amazement.

 

Standing Back

"Human or Frog?"

rrrbit rrrbit rrrbit.

No contest.

 

Limitless

This is like several tee shirts all in one place.

Oak and Ant and Silence are the ones I'm most drawn to.

"When the wind blows, bend easily and trust your roots to hold."

"Small does not mean powerless."

"In the quiet, everything comes clear."

 

You Drew The Line

"the weight of your own worth"

It's astronomical!

"Stand where you are.

Let it be heaven.

"Root down."

My favorite line.

"I can do epic things.

We all know the epic things

we can do and are doing.

We're in this together and

I'm glad you're here.

 

A Kiss

I am swept away with this.

So many delicious and 

delightful words and phrases.

 I love every sentence. 

May it bring you joy.

Thank you for being here.

 

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 steadies 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.

 

ReWilding

I am completely smitten by this poem.

It motivates me to mow less and meadow more.

"I won't be mowing Eden to inches

to feel like I am a god."

"We cannot let [her] die on our watch."

 

Eagle Poem

"And know there is more that you can't see, can't hear;

can't know except in moments steadily growing..."

This comforts me as I witness the surface of things in today's world.

It reminds me to look deeper...to go still and listen carefully.

"We see you, see ourselves and know that we must

take the utmost care and kindness in all things."

So many of us are doing this it is surely making

giant waves in the unseen world.  Growing and 

expanding with steady power and might.

"We are truly blessed because we were born,

and will die soon within a true circle of motion."

Witnessing the motion of the sky above,

and the seasons as they circle around,

it seems right and holy that we are circling as well.

May it be done in beauty.

In beauty.

 

Going Back To Magic

A simple, repetitive refrain.

Associating magic with religion.

Isn't that marvelous?

Especially when religion is

"of rocks, the lake, the water, the sky.

I would add:

the river, the forest, the air,

and many other natural things.

"that's what I believe in."

 

Directions For Saving Your Life

The first one is key in my opinion.

"You are worth saving."

Why is this even up for debate?

May every one of us know this to our bones

and act accordingly. 

Is there a "restless creature pacing inside"

who needs freeing? If so, may these suggestions 

assist in throwing open the doors and windows to let it out.

"give your instinct a voice and your body permission."

Here's trusting you're already practicing this...

getting stronger each day.

And the same goes for 
"taking what you need, not what scraps you think you deserve."

If this creeps in from time to time, it must be

flushed immediately because its a harmful lie.

We are mighty...we are roaring.

 

How To Do Absolutely Nothing

I confess, this would be a challenge for me...

No walking shoes? Lordy! Would barefoot shoes be acceptable?

And there's this...who's Barbara Kingsolver (I love her)

to tell us how to do nothing?  I can sit in my living room and do that.

I suspect you have your own methods?

She does make a point, though...

"Don't take your rechargeables" for example,

I find myself reaching for mine way too often.

I like to be connected to other humans.  

At the same time, enjoying my own company

is an activity I'd like to hone. 

Emphasis on enjoying.

My take away from this is,

can I step away from justifying myself?

Can I be complete and comfortable as is?

 

What Do You Bring To The Table?

This quote struck me hard in a good way.

It was a while back that a couple men and I 

were discussing what would happen if we 

bought an island somewhere...or went off the grid.

They began discussing what each of them

"brought to the table".

Medical expertise, technical expertise,

mechanical know how, carpentry skills...those sorts of things.

Sitting there listening I felt myself shrink

from lack of anything significant to bring to the table.

Reading this shifted that entire tableau around

and I am grateful.

"I am the damn table."

PS: Could not find a human name to provide attribution.

 

Happiness

"How far away is your happiness?"

How close?

These are rich questions to ask ourself.

It might be good to add our own to the list.

How many meals prepared by you or others?

How many seeds planted, bushes pruned, trees grown?

How many walks along the river and through the forest?

How many friends discovered? 

How many trips taken?

How many books read and/or written?

How many hugs given and received?

"How much thread in the enormous 

sewing machine of the present moment?"

My favorite line.

Think how small those stitches are...

but what magic they can create...

what fine garments they produce...

to wrap around yourself and your dear ones.