“If the risk is fully aligned with your purpose and mission, then it’s worth considering.”
“If someone is always to blame, if every time something goes wrong someone has to be punished, people quickly stop taking risks. Without risks, there can’t be breakthroughs.”
“True disruption means threatening your existing product line and your past investments. Breakthrough products disrupt current lines of businesses.”
– Peter Diamandis
Don’t watch the clock; do what it does. Keep going.
– Sam Levenson
Breakthroughs usually come to me
like a fist to the gut,
then comes the battle for denial,
the self-pleading not to allow it,
the desperate attempt
to keep things status quo.
I never want to rock the apple cart,
I never want to lose anything,
especially people I love,
and comfortable dwelling places.
But breakthroughs must break through.
Truth must win
to gain my peace again.
It is what it is…always
refuses to be avoided,
no matter how hard I try.
Once acknowledged
all is quiet in the kingdom,
and I can begin to make a new plan
forward,
ever forward.
The songs of small birds fade away
into the bushes after sundown,
the air dry, sweet with goldenrod.
Beside the path, suddenly, bright asters
flare in the dusk. The aged voices
of a few crickets thread the silence.
It is a quiet I love, though my life
too often drives me through it deaf.
Busy with costs and losses, I waste
the time I have to be hereβa time
blessed beyond my deserts, as I know,
if only I would keep aware. The leaves
rest in the air, perfectly still.
I would like them to rest in my mind
as still, as simply spaced. As I approach,
the sorrel filly looks up from her grazing,
poised there, light on the slope
as a young apple tree. A week ago
I took her away to sell, and failed
to get my price, and brought her home
again. Now in the quiet I stand
and look at her a long time, glad
to have recovered what is lost
in the exchange of something for money.
I stood in the surf
waiting
for what I was to receive
I looked at,
then past,
glistening rocks,
colored shells,
green sea glass,
none of them were right.
My back was to the Sound,
Waves coming and going,
Sand shifting under my wet feet.
I scan,
wait for what I must recognize –
then I see it.
this?
a black glob of rocks stuck together
browns and grey and bits of reds
it’s ugly
it’s heavy
it’s rough
it’s jagged
it’s not what I thought I wanted,
it’s not what I thought was valuable.
what is it, that the water has just delivered,
and I feel lead to pick up
to cart home with me?
I want it to be romantic.
Maybe…
I search for romance…
a meteorite?
a mystery from another planet?
I walk the mile home,
wondering what lessons I will learn from this ‘gift’
I have just received from the ocean.
Almost home,
one more curve,
I spot my favorite kinda caterpillar,
the brown and black,
softest, loveliest velvet
crawler in the world.
I loved the feel of them as a little girl,
let them crawl all over me.
I pass it,
then double back,
as directed by intuition,
to visit this small friend.
I am bent down,
and my fuzzy friend moves along,
and recognition comes.
I carry,
in my hands…
asphalt,
ASPHALT???!!!
a piece of the road,
which came to me by way of the ocean.
I belly laugh
as I my lesson,
my gift,
becomes clearer.
I am,
right now,
every moment,
in the ocean of grace
no matter where I am
the path is in the ocean of love,
of God.
The road is everywhere!
It rises to meet me.
It comes one chunk at a time.
This is gift –
teaching me what I need,
bringing me diamonds with each step.
Living,
and breathing,
thanks
is the best gift.
We are always loved
The message is waiting in
every surf
every leaf
every tree
every song
every heart beat
every tiny created thing
every little moment breathes and burns.
Remove your shoes,
dance wild by the fire,
dive into the sky,
sing loud and long –
holy,
holy,
holy
and fly away
home.
I’ll meet you there!
xoxo
I share with you the agony of your grief,
The anguish of your heart finds echo in my own.
I know I cannot enter all you feel
Nor bear with you the burden of your pain;
I can but offer what my love does give:
The strength of caring,
The warmth of one who seeks to understand
The silent storm-swept barrenness of so great a loss.
This I do in quiet ways,
That on your lonely path
You may not walk alone.