I knock three times, yes, it’s 28-5. It seems I’ve got that right, yet there’s never an answer, and I wonder what might be the matter.
I pace and think, and think and pace, clearing my mind of all those escapes, and preconceived ideas of what I’m missing, while staying present to the glow that’s forth giving.
And, just then, I hear someone from behind the door, calling someone from beyond the shore.
And yet, no one’s there, and I wonder about all that’s fair,
as our
hearts mingle in a dance of inquiry, hidden from view behind a barricade of life’s fullest and most interesting mysteries.
In response to the WDYS #81 prompt from Keep it Alive, by Sadje.
A whimsical feeling soes foretell of another delightful place and time, Where healing happens in an instant and all those issues are gone before you’ve glimpsed it.
It’s there on the stairs, again, calling to all that care.
Beauty in all that’s seen just like in a dream, magical, mysterious, and certainly glowing with such effervescence you wonder if it’s really full of that much pleasure.
You reconcile the feeling with a need for healing, and realize, the light’s always been there. Guiding and providing you with direction and much protection.
Through thick and thin, and all the spaces that live within.
They provide guidance at every turn, even when it might burn.
And,
display persistence in the face of adversity, especially when we are close to calamity.
A mother’s love burns so bright, the light can be seen from other worlds even on the darkest of nights.
Not asking for anything in return, leading from the center, until the heavens open up and shower us with their love, and, yes we did learn.
On this Mother’s Day, then, let us impart this small gift, upon those strong and courageous women, whose dedication, love, and kindness, did always give us that needed lift.
A lovely week this past week, as always. I’ve been continuing to prepare and plant my plot at the community garden. I’ll have another installment in the gardening series in the next week. Fun.
I’ve also been playing the guitar more. There is something about music. I’ve always known this, yet I’ve rediscovered, or, maybe it’s, renewed a deep passion within me for, and with, music. I love it so much.
I’ve also been working, well, a lot. The team is as busy as ever. We just finished the summer schedule, which we will publish next week. I will share it with all of you in my next diary post.
And, of course, I’ve been writing. Less this week, yet, it’s always there, and inspirational.
I completed the first entry in the Willamette Valley Wanderings and Wonderings series, and am contemplating my next hike. It will be next weekend, and I may drive up to Salem. Not sure. We will see. However it goes, I’ll have some lovely pictures and reflections to share with all of you.
I also published the purpose post this past week, which was fun. I think about purpose in such a different way today. Actually, I think about everything today quite differently. Purpose is just another concept that I like to think about; and, for me, purpose lives and breathes in each moment. It’s always there, and doesn’t need much attention. Just being, living, and loving. Awesome.
As you all know, I write a lot about emotions. The reason I write about emotions so often, is that for most of my adult life I held all of my emotions in, and didn’t process them.
Once I learned how to understand my feelings, I began to learn how to process them, talk about them, and, yep, write about them.
Therefore, in the past 4 years, I’ve lived through, and engaged with, a lot of emotional processing. These experiences serve as the foundation for many of my poems, and are quite beautiful.
I appreciate each of you for walking through these experiences with me, and supporting me as we do so. An honor.
I’ve also been reflecting more upon the concept acknowledgement this past week. Partly because as I was preparing the quarterly team report, it occured to me that I had so many acknowledgements to make, if I made them all in a single communication, it would be, well, rather lengthy.
Therefore, I chose to create a 4-day communication event, acknowledging a few team members each day. It feels right, and is important. It’s also important to acknowledge ourselves, and to do so often.
When we acknowledge how we feel, the lows, the highs, the middle spots, we get so much more back; and, we develop a real sense of what it means to be a human being on this wonderful planet.
As a final acknowledgement this week, I’d like to acknowledge my beautifully strong mother, sisters, exwife, and all of those moms out there who, for so many reasons, exemplify strength, persistence, determination, compassion, love, and kindness.
Thank you. Thank you for being exactly as you are.
When I look inside, sometimes is found a diatribe, of ideas, which are moving and shaping experience without the knowledge of the receiver.
Egoic mind in motion, suffering extending roots from craving to attachment. Blinding light of awareness, are you afraid of the parallax light would perform?
Following these ideas from here to there is often pale, until that is, we get beyond the veil.
We often accessorize to people and ideas too comfortably with the gates to our heart unlocked with hope, the void of emptiness remains when the filled absence has dissolved.
We must then make headway, and, stay resolved, by being open to all that’s at our door, while we learn more about humanities very core.
Welcome others to be who they truly are, by mirroring and refracting off Self. Don’t force situations, solutions once submerged emerge, uncertainty is reality, delve into it.
Experience is a wise teacher, and can shed light on the ideas we struggle with, while we bundle close together, and pray for our very souls.
Detachment does not mean that you should own nothing, but that nothing should own you. Soaring above the high planes, be enrolled experience yet not of it.
Experience as the guide, please abide, and delight yourself in the fabric of reality within view, while ensconcing yourself in the mystery of all that is hidden within you.
Trauma and pain go together, and as I sit here and type this poem, I’m reflecting upon this person’s pain, and all of the memories that are the impetus for such agony and drain.
The memories are like splinters in my heart, and run deep, just like a fracture in the earth, which, in times of great consternation split wide open, spilling forth the earth’s contents from it’s very core.
And, just like our beautiful Mother’s fractures, these splinters of the heart, widen with time, until momentum enough is created, and everything comes spilling forth.
Yet, this truth does not live in isolation from the sealing and healing of those splinters of heart, and fractures of earth, which gather together over time.
Acknowledging their existence, and filling them, one and all, with love and compassion is a remedy that I truly adore.
