life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “Adventure”

When wilt thou come unto me, Lord? Oh come, my Lord most dear! Come near, come nearer, nearer still, I’m blest when thou art near.     – C. H. Spurgeon

 

 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 — 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 — which is always an experience.

  
“We are uncomfortable with intimacy and connection, which are among the greatest of our unmet needs today. To be truly seen and heard, to be truly known, is a deep human need. Our hunger for it is so omnipresent, so much a part of our life experience, that we no more know what it is missing than a fish knows it is wet. We need more intimacy than nearly anyone considers normal. Always hungry for it, we seek solace and sustenance in the closest available substitutes: television, shopping, pornography, conspicuous consumption — anything to ease the hurt, to feel connected, or to project an image by which we might be seen or known, or at least see and know ourselves.” – Charles Eisenstein
 

 

photo sources found at wwwpinterest.com/al513  

love letters

 As I gaze into the world, I realise

that nothing falters in its
ability to reflect what
I’ve come here to see.

 

My challenge remains
to admit
to what it is
that I’ve seen.
👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓
The Reflection by Nic Askew

 It is time to write.

To blog.

To truthtell.

To confess, expose, reveal…

be real and raw and silly-serious moment by moment me.

Here. Now.      -vs-.       Someday. When.

Someday when I know what I’m 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 “wrong” and-or “why oh why”                                                             in order to overcome and be                                                                                                                 the golden-hued, prolific, profound, insightful, inspirational blogging goddess                                       that we all know is in here                                                                                                       somewhere.

(Ohhhhhhhh…. 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 I’m 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, it’s 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. 

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

      – Robin OK @ http://laughndream.com/2015/03/truthscribbles/

 

photos and sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513 

it’s that day again…how’s it gonna treat you?

 

 monday comes

fine as a feather
monday comes
light as a breeze
monday comes
lightning and thunder
monday comes
takes you under
monday comes
fit as a fiddle
monday comes 
like a good riddle
monday comes
one way or other
monday comes
hey to your brother
monday comes
like it or lump it
monday comes
two days to hump it
monday comes
like a dark lover
monday comes
leaves you to suffer
monday comes
still monday comes
somehow monday comes
monday always comes
monday monday
————————–
ACL  3/23/15
————————–
Monday Monday by the Mama and the Papas
  
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
photo sources found at 

tell it


 

 

 

IMG_7587_2

IMG_7450_2

 

Photo sources at www.pinterest.com/al513

passion

Go out on a limb when you pray for others. Take a risk. Be outrageous. Be passionate. Take a leap. Love a lot, not just a little.   –Rick Hamlin



I’m not making this up. In Cafe Latte’s wine bar

one of the lovely coeds at the next table
touched John on the arm as if I wasn’t there
and said, Excuse me, sir, but what
is that naughty little dessert?
And I knew from the way he glanced
at the frothy neckline of her blouse,
then immediately cast his eyes on his plate
before giving a fatherly answer,
he would have given up dessert three months
for the chance to feed this one to her.
I was stunned; John was hopeful;
but the girl was hitting on his cake.
Though she told her friend until they left
she did not want any. I wish she wanted
something-my husband, his cake, both at once.
I wish she left insisting
upon the beauty of his hands, his curls,
the sublimeness of strawberries
and angel food. But she was precocious,
and I fear adulthood is the discipline
of being above desire, cultivated
after years of learning what you want
and where and how, after insisting
that you will one day have it. I don’t
ever want to stop noticing a man like the one
at the bar in his loosened tie, reading
the Star Tribune. I don’t want to eat my cake
with a baby spoon to force small bites,
as women’s magazines suggest. And you
don’t want to either, do you? You want a big piece
of this world. You would love to have the whole thing.

Consuming Desire by Katrina Vandenberg






Live authentically. Why would you continue to compromise something that’s beautiful to create something that is fake?       – Steve Maraboli



Photo sources found at

www.pinterest.com/al513

new adventures



As the dark clouds roll in, and all hope disappears from sight, and the bright sun goes away, leaving every heart filled with fright. And all hope and virtue disappears from sight, making even the kindest things seem filled with blight; and the cold rain pouring down, cutting through us through the night. In desperation searching; nothing to find it seems though we might, continue pushing though nothing we do is right.

 

Drenched and sore and bleeding, empty and broken and pleading, without hope and desperately needing, some comfort though none forthcoming; the brightest day as turned to night. Our sight foreshadowed in darkness, that fog thick and endless around us, concealing the path before us, the level ground a seeming endless height!

 

That slippery slope before us, though level seeming to those around us, daunting as we feel it; we trip and stumble underneath it, that hidden weight we carry it, translucent and transparent, and yet to our soul we feel it. Sliding down that hillside, level, falling to the bottom, under that angry sky we’re filled with, nothing but empty gripe.

 

Stumbling and aching, slowly we come to standing, the ground underneath us turning, ever always turning, as if the world is shaking; for inside us the world is shaking, ever inside us quaking, sleeping even while waking; twilight seems closest to what is bright.

 

Ever inside us knowing, our fate for us, are future sowing, a future not worth knowing; for ever inside us searching, for a hope now lost from sight.

 

Then that flash and clap does shake us, the resounding sound does wake us; the bright and brilliant flash does wake us, incandescent and brilliant white! And our eyes do open wide, though blurry to the sight, of that beam shine through the sky, cutting as though a knife, through cloud and shadow and shame, and only the light remains!

 

Then the calm and gentle breeze, the warm and kindest breeze; touches us as we freeze, to the spot we find us standing, and for a moment remaining, for a new breath grasping; and we find us speaking “light don’t leave me, please!”


The Storm by Matthew Mele








Yesterday was the beginning of a new adventure. I will be hosting and producing a public access tv show named Artitude. Yesterday I sat down with three amazing, courageous friends to share our stories on camera. George Manuka, pastor of Dunbar United Church of Christ in Hamden, CT. He is also my pastor. Linda Bonadies, composer, song writer extraordinaire. Linda has written a one woman show based on her story, called Give it all Away. I recently saw it in NYC. I am so inspired by her courage and talent. We are writing songs together for the show. Matthew Mele (above poem) is Poet in Residence. Matthew teaches martial arts, he has an incredible story, great poetic ability and a unique gift of perspective. I am so excited to have him share and explore these on this show. 

I am feeling very grateful, a bit overwhelmed, excited, afraid I can’t do it, challenged in every area, ideas are bouncing around in my head, the things I don’t know feel like a hovering mountain to climb. 

I feel the importance of this project. I feel the largeness of this opportunity. I feel the responsibility which comes with sharing my voice. 

Artitude will be about the arts, sharing stories, connections, how we build stronger communities and heal our lives. Here is the 60 word explanation of the show premise:

 Everyone is an artist. Our lives are our masterpiece.

We each hold the power to choose, to create, to change our personal stories. 
Art touches the deepest longings of our hearts. Things like poetry, fiction, film, theater, drama, dance, music, friendship and conversation awaken us to our own possibilities. They inspire us to become all we can be. 
This is Artitude. 
Please pray for me as I step into this calling. Thank you!

More to come…

photo source tracks found at

what am I to do?

Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me.

                  —Mark 8.34

God of love, be in me
to embody your gentleness and grace,
to love at my own cost,
to enter the suffering of the world,
to hold the wounded in my heart,
to bear the monstrous without explanation,
to absorb the pain without retaliation,
to let there be a hell on earth
without another,
to trust that even the greatest evil
cannot drive you out,
and that love and forgiveness alone
will change the world.
Grant me faith to be willing 
to be overwhelmed
and raised again.
I do not ask for heroic strength
but for you
to bear the cross in me,
that by your Spirit in me
I may be Christ,
crucified,
and risen,
no longer small,
no longer threatened,
no longer afraid.

__________________  
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net











I freed a thousand slaves I could have freed a thousand more if only they knew they were slaves. – Harriet Tubman

IMG_6859
To go forth now
from all the entanglement
that is ours and yet not ours,
that, like the water in an old well,
reflects us in fragments, distorts what we are.

From all that clings like burrs and brambles—
to go forth
and see for once, close up, afresh,
what we had ceased to see—
so familiar it had become.
To glimpse how vast and how impersonal
is the suffering that filled your childhood.

Yes, to go forth, hand pulling away from hand.
Go forth to what? To uncertainty,
to a country with no connections to us
and indifferent to the dramas of our life.

What drives you to go forth? Impatience, instinct,
a dark need, the incapacity to understand.

To bow to all this.
To let go—
even if you have to die alone.

Is this the start of a new life?

Departure of the Prodigal Son by Rainer Maria Rilke

IMG_6852

IMG_6853

IMG_6858

IMG_6851

IMG_6346

photo source tracks found at

In Deep Snow

IMG_6777

IMG_6773

IMG_6772
Walk past people sealed in their houses,
silence piled up on their roofs,
into the palimpsest of the woods,
thigh deep in the smoothness,
the substance of silence,
the weight of the light.
Snow in the trees, beneath the trees,
branches bowed with the weight of heaven.
In the open field the white
spreads like a calm sea.
The brook admits you;
beneath you know you are walking on her back.
At the far end of the frozen marsh
stand among the falling constellations
until it is possible
to belong in the cold and quiet,
to be erased and redrawn,
to be a flake in this drift of silence,
blanketed by the softly falling presence,
covered in God.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to Steve at unfoldinglight(at)gmail.com

IMG_6774

IMG_6775

IMG_6776
Photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Dust of Snow by Robert Frost

deciding where you want to go…

IMG_6681
I came to the end of the sidewalk
was wondering which way I should go
There were gates for each road all around me
The signs up above were all flashing to show…

They read…this way
and that way
and his way
and her way
There was your way
and my way
and right way
and wrong way

I stood at the end of the end of the sidewalk
It was all so confusing I struggled to know
Which gate was the one I should enter
Which road was the one to lead me back home…

Cause there was
high way
and by way
low way
and long way
There was which way
and what way
there was fast way
and slow way

Then I saw a small sign near the bottom
It wasn’t flashing or bright
But this sign it caught my attention
Cause this one pointed towards LIFE…

Some signs read short way
and one sign said no way
one was blinking far away
all the way to the milky way
there was dream way
and scream way
There was wander way
and squander way

But this road it had a small entrance
Not many had gone through before
The gate was all rusted and creaky
Had to knock just to open that door…

It was dark and a little bit lonely
There was just a small lamp for to see
It took me awhile to adjust to the style
For this road was far greater than me

Cause it’s Your way
not my way
It’s a new way
towards life way

The longer I walked, I saw better
Though it never got easier to see,
But this road lead right where I followed
cause Life was the journey, you see…

ACL 2/7/15

IMG_6703

Diamond Road…Sheyl Crow
Walk with me the diamond road
Tell me every story told
Give me something of your soul
That I can hold onto

I want to wake up to the sound of waves
Crashing on a brand new day
Keep the memory of your face
But wipe the pain away

When you¹re lonely (you¹re not alone)
When you¹re heart aches (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
Yeah, it’s gonna take a little time
When the night falls (you’re not alone)
When you’re stumbling (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
To make it to the other side
So don’t miss the diamonds along the way

Every road has led us here today
Little bird, what’s troubling you
You know what you have to do
What is yours you’ll never lose

And what’s ahead may shine
Beneath the promise of blue skies
With broken wings we’ll learn to fly
Pull yourself out of the tide
And begin the dream again

When you¹re lonely (you¹re not alone)
When you¹re heart aches (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
Yeah, it’s gonna take a little time
When the night falls (you’re not alone)
When you’re stumbling (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
To make it to the other side
So don’t miss the diamonds along the way

So don’t miss the diamonds along the way
Every road has led us here today
Won’t you shine on
Morning light

Burn the darkness away
Walk with me the Diamond Road
Tell me everything is gold
Give me something of your soul
So you don¹t fade away

When you¹re lonely (you¹re not alone)
When you¹re heart aches (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
Yeah, it’s gonna take a little time
When the night falls (you’re not alone)
When you’re stumbling (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
To make it to the other side
So don’t miss the diamonds along the way

Don’t miss the diamonds along the way
Every road has led us here today
Life is what happens while you¹re making plans
All that you need is right here in your hands.

Matthew 7
7 “Ask and it will be given to you;seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.8 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
13 “Enter through the narrow
gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. 14 But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.

IMG_6692

photo source tracks found at

Post Navigation