spaces for re-defining moreΒ
New beginnings. Springtime joy. Spaces opening. Baggage shedding. Words healing.
The future’s so bright…
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photo sources found at
New beginnings. Springtime joy. Spaces opening. Baggage shedding. Words healing.
The future’s so bright…
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photo sources found at
We canβt find our path without getting messy. Messy comes with the territory. We came in messy. We learn messy. We love messy. We grow messy. We leave messy. I never found my way to clarity without first befriending confusion, in all its chaotic forms. I never found a path that felt like home before falling into quick-sand. I never established a new way of being without trying the wrong way of being on for size. I never found the light without stumbling around in the dark. I never tasted God before getting a little dirt in my mouth. Not that all messiness is good messiness, but some of it is. In the heart of the chaos, is the clay that shapes us home. Chaotic Magnificence!
– Jeff Brown
Photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
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My heart is green
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True Colors by Eva Cassidy
photo sources found at
So full of life and beauty today I had to pull over and take a few pictures to remember this gorgeous day!!! Very full heart! So grateful! xo
That day I saw beneath dark clouds
the passing light over the water
and I heard the voice of the world speak out,
I knew then, as I had before
life is no passing memory of what has been
nor the remaining pages in a great book
waiting to be read.
It is the opening of eyes long closed.
It is the vision of far off things
seen for the silence they hold.
It is the heart after years
of secret conversing
speaking out loud in the clear air.
It is Moses in the desert
fallen to his knees before the lit bush.
It is the man throwing away his shoes
as if to enter heaven
and finding himself astonished,
opened at last,
fallen in love with solid ground.
The Opening of Eyes by David Whyte
photo sources found at
There is a huge difference between learning about truth and experiencing truth. Touch the source. Your mind can take in endless pearls of wisdom and your mouth can repeat them, but until you have essential experience β you only have noise. Talk and even listening are nothing without understanding. We only truly understand what we experience. When people have understanding they tend to be more quiet and seek quietness. Consider the possibility that many of the things you hear and say are utter nonsense and meaningless repetitions of noise. Cut it all out. Quit getting your information second hand. Take any concept, lesson, story, book, quote or conversation and look for a way to touch its source of origin β which is always an experience.
photo sources found at wwwpinterest.com/al513
As I gaze into the world, I realise
It is time to write.
To blog.
To truthtell.
To confess, expose, revealβ¦
be real and raw and silly-serious moment by moment me.
Here. Now. -vs-. Someday. When.
Someday when I know what Iβm doing?
Have it figured out?
Plotted, schemed, planned, blueprinted, outlined?
READY.
Ptttthhhhh! You know THAT day, right?
I am a beautiful messy mess heap of chaos and presence
Wanna know something?
My insides are scribbling.
I am scared. Scared of being scared. Scared of being scared of being scared.
Yesterday I shared with friends that I do not comprehend why I get
So. damn. frozen. stuck. stymied. in my lack of tracks
when.ever. I. contemplate coming here (yes, here, to a wordpress screen, fingers on keys) and writing any.thing.at. all.
(as clearly evidenced by the chronic non-posts pervading this site, right?)
And I think I must find out what is βwrongβ and-or βwhy oh whyβ in order to overcome and be the golden-hued, prolific, profound, insightful, inspirational blogging goddess that we all know is in here somewhere.
(Ohhhhhhhhβ¦. could that be why?!)
They told me to just write. Write me. For me.
Not for you. Or them. Or any grand scheme purpose.
Simply to write. Express. Allow words to come. Flow. Have their inexplicable way with me.
So here I am.
Shaking. Criticizing. Condemning. Regretting. ALLOWING. Receiving. Sharing. (Insert loud screechy horror movie scream here)
Writing words from voices whispering, hollering, quivering and shimmering
Fastwriting over, under, beside and through the scribbley scary insides
Less pretend pretense.
More real raw-been Robin.
I am a writer, after all.
I am also a Leader of Laughter and Guider of Dreams and Creativity Coach. And that scribble and scrape-slops my insides, too.
I just want to hide. Run away. Hibernate. Meditate. Extrapolate.
You have no idea (wait, but maybe you do?) just how much energy I spend resisting
what Iβm meant to do.
Fighting, warring, tugging, slugging, ugamugging.
It is ongoing, this internal bickering with all the voices
vying to be heeded and heard,
whining, cajoling, singing, snorting
All these damn voices, yearning.
I am hushing you (shhhhhh now, itβs ok)
setting you free
be unleashed upon a page, a stage,
keep me real, release release
have your way with me.
It is time to write.
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– Robin OK @ http://laughndream.com/2015/03/truthscribbles/
photos and sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513
Its incredible how oneβs needs can be so contrary from one moment to the next.
Or maybe vociferousness is not for me.
The day was warm and the park beckoned. I reached for the camera but then left it behind.
There was a need for silence. I did not want to capture an outward display of appreciation. Instead, I took it inward. I wanted it to implode within and drown me in its presence. To let it pool in the center of my being and then let it burgeon with the stillness of the woods. Tender, quiet, restful. A balm, a solace, a gathering of the wayward sinews of breath and then, a releasing.
An unraveling, a crumbling of the walls of the fortress. And then, a gentle rebuilding.
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The Fortress of One’s Heart by Rama DesaiΒ https://ramaink.wordpress.com
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photo sources atΒ www.pinterest.com/al513
monday comes