all roads

it’s not a dead end if it takes you someplace you needed to go
– unconditional
There are beautiful wild forces within us.
Let them turn the mills inside
and fill
sacks
that feed even heaven.
💞

it’s not a dead end if it takes you someplace you needed to go
– unconditional
There are beautiful wild forces within us.
Let them turn the mills inside
and fill
sacks
that feed even heaven.
💞
seems to need us
-Rainer Maria Rilke
😶🙃🙂
I can hardly imagine it
as I walk to the lighthouse,
feeling the ancient
prayer of my arms swinging
in counterpoint to my feet.
Here I am, suspended
between the sidewalk and twilight,
the sky dimming so fast it seems alive.
What if you felt the invisible
tug between you and everything?
A boy on a bicycle rides by,
his white shirt open, flaring
behind him like wings.
It’s a hard time to be human.
We know too much
and too little.
Does the breeze need us?
The cliffs?
The gulls?
If you’ve managed to do one good thing,
the ocean doesn’t care.
But when Newton’s apple fell toward the earth,
the earth, ever so slightly, fell
toward the apple.
🍎
The World Has Need of You by Ellen Bass
june 24, 2016
the beauty of comversations
so amazing
such glory in these connections
from all over the world –
we all have need of each other.
Front porches can be found anywhere.
We share lunch tables
and stories, oh so exciting.
The four friends head to the gate,
the two locals call a friendly greeting as they return to leave for home,
they remember my name –
it rings out in the busy airport!
Wave and smiling – I live here!
I sit and rejoice.
Write it. 🙂
I am enriched
by this going
by this obedience
by this calling
I have received such confirmation of my work.
So energized,
so blessed,
so excited,
so ready.
I am smiling as the guy above my table says,
So we must be in the allergy section….
(we talk throat clearing and
the fact that I have eaten gluten,
for a few)
Hi, I’m Gary…I’m Amy….
my next divine appointment
has just arrived…
we cross paths 2 or3 times,
then just sit
talk,
share,
connect,
sleep
(well, sorta…in a plane seat??????….winging to Phily)
we leave each other with a warm hug,
after an all night flight…
I am doing my work…
and it is good
✈️
AL


Today I wish you grand adventures, shared laughter and please, for goodness sakes, park with WILD ABANDON!! ❤️ xo

Life itself is the great sacrament through which we are wounded and healed. If we live everything, life will be faithful to us.
❤️
– John O’Donohue

this birth of awaiting changes
this for that
tit for tat
tuxedo memories
pinstripe debonair
glamour hangs
like confetti in the air
life goes
round and round
flinging dreams
synthetic roads
leading nowhere
screams and laugher
hardest when not fair
up one side now
down the other there
we hang on
we stomp our feet
and swear
this ain’t right
this we cannot bear
life goes forward
ever on and on
wanting only
to change our point of view
we are loved
no matter what we lose
love will win
love always life’s sweet muse
sight or blind
the vision ours to choose
❤️
AL
Men must endure / Their going hence even as their coming hither; / Ripeness is all.
– William Shakespeare / King Lear
Only when we rest in God can we find the safety, the spaciousness, and the scary freedom to be who we are, all that we are, more than we are, and less than we are.
– Richard Rohr

The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth’s old and weary cry.
And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the world’s tears,
And all the trouble of her laboring ships,
And all the trouble of her myriad years.
And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,
The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,
And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves,
Are shaken with earth’s old and weary cry.
😔
The Sorrow of Love by William Butler Yeats
———
Do you have any idea how many princesses have gone unrecognized by their prince because of logic? Or how many princes have gone unrecognized by their princess because of pride?
How many dreams were dashed when the handmaiden answered the door? Or when the gatehouse was mistaken for the mansion? Or when the calm before the storm of abundance and good fortune was viewed as a sign to retreat?
Happily, we’ve got forever and ever. And fortunately, it’s never too late to see what one’s missed, remain focused on the dream instead of the hows, and move with unwavering faith.
Yeeeee-haaaaaaaaaa!!
The Universe
www.tut.com
oh freedom,
that’s just some people talkin’
cause your prison is walking through this world
all alone.
there is terrible beauty in every human heart
tell me a story that will live with me forever
love always shares grace always wins
you can’t miss out
pay attention…
the message is always revealed at the appointed intersection
letting go brings the right miracle
at the right time the song playlist repeats
crazy love flows into mystic waters
deep calling to deep
honor chooses to say yes to the best invitations
making the call brings me the messages I need
there is always more than enough to share
gratitude buckets fill and overflow
removing scales from blurry, tearful, kaleidoscope eyes
as perfect peace falls into rightful place
color shards blooming into new masterpieces of never before seen glory
diamonds dance on the water
herons bring messages of great importance,
delivered via my beautiful Mama Bird,
fluent in language of bird, tree, dreams and laughter…just to name a few.
flaming beauty evolves, drives me to my knees,
shedding shoes, and fear,
as I pray
I lift my face to the evening sky
and soar free
full wing, open soul, with the hawks,
who always fly in trust that they are enough
right here, and in every tick of time,
in, and in-between, every click of the second hand,
around the bend of eternity and back again
💞
AL

Especially in the afternoon when light slants
through the window, grazing her cheek on its way to the page.
For a woman who appreciates that kind of light for reading.
Especially in mornings, when coffee makers groan.
When everyone else is still climbing, still hand-over-handing their way
up from dreams.
For the book
that fell into the bath
and was fished out — quickly.
For the line
that swam before her as she fell
asleep.
In stolen time:
the check-out line,
the way to work.
In fits and starts of traffic,
in the press
of bodies.
Especially
for anyone who’s ever missed her stop.
For anyone who’s laughed out loud while reading
in a restaurant.
Or ever thought of writing
to a stranger:
You told my story.
How did you know?
Especially for a teenage girl whose touch
turns bookmarks into ash.
And so she uses rubber bands,
a roll of tape,
a stray sock,
a receipt,
or my book
to hold her place open.
Who won’t
come to supper till she finishes her page.
For a grandmother I know
about, who stirred with a book in one hand.
For everyone stirring
with words in their hands.
For anyone who’s ever grasped a book in two hands.
Hold your breath, and crack it open.
For books that have burned to be written.
Books thrown into the fire
because supper wasn’t ready, or her chores had not been done.
For anyone who’s ever had anyone tell her:
All that reading makes you think too much.
Especially when the leaves against the window
are a chorus from another time.
When evening comes, a woman stretches one curved arm to reach
the light behind her.
She is reading while the birds take roost, and punctuate
the branches.
Reading till her book is finished.
Reading like a girl.
📖
~Sue MacLeod
Chocolatini Godiva Truffle
until the very last.
It was my shooting star.
my most special to look forward to.
my magic bullet.
my favorite.
Intented for the ending of the box celebration.
saved
cherished
savored
but then I finished my book!
I finished reading
The Night Circus
and my chocolatini was the closest thing
I could find to a chocolate mouse…
and so, I had to eat it!
to celebrate!!!
What a cool book!
Reading is my life,
books my passion,
the smell of old libraries one of my favorites.
Yet, I have not read a novel for a long time…
have not found one that captured me in years…
until now.
No hesitation with my truffle choice today,
it was the best show of respect
and gratitude I could give.
The circus arrives without warning…
the circus of dreams…
and we are swept away by the very taste of it…
📚
AL

When you forget or repress the truth and depth of your invisible belonging and decide to belong to some system, person, or project, you short-circuit your longing and squander your identity. To have true integrity, poise, and courage is to be attuned to the silent and invisible nature within you. Real maturity is the integrity of inhabiting that “immortal longing” that always calls you to new horizons. Your true longing is to belong to the eternal that echoes continually in everything that happens to you. Real power has nothing to do with force, control, status, or money. Real power is the persistent courage to be at ease with the unsolved and the unfinished. To be able to recognize, in the scattered graffiti of your desires, the signature of the eternal.
💞
John O’Donohue
Excerpt from ETERNAL ECHOES

TOUCH is what we desire in one form or another, even if we find it through being alone, through the agency of silence or through the felt need to walk at a distance: the meeting with something or someone other than ourselves, the light brush of grass on the skin, the ruffling breeze, the actual touch of another’s hand; even the gentle first touch of an understanding which until now, we were formally afraid to hold.
Whether we touch only what we see or the mystery of what lies beneath the veil of what we see, we are made for unending meeting and exchange, while having to hold a coherent mind and body, physically or imaginatively, which in turn can be found and touched itself. We are something for the world to run up against and rub up against: through the trials of love, through pain, through happiness, through our simple everyday movement through the world.
And the world touches us in many ways, some of which are violations of the body or our hopes for safety: through natural disaster, through heartbreak, through illness, through death itself. In the ancient world the touch of a God was seen as both a blessing and a violation – at one and the same time. Being alive in the world means being found by the world and sometimes touched to the core in ways we would rather not experience.
Growing with our bodies, all of us find ourselves at one time violated or wounded by this world in difficult ways, and still we live and breathe in this touchable, sensual world, and through trauma, through grief, through recovery, we heal in order to be touched again in the right way, as the physical consecration of a mutual, trusted invitation.
Nothing stops the body’s arrival in each new present, except death itself, which is intuited in all cultures as another, ultimate, intimate form of meeting. Nothing stops our ageing nor our witness to time, asking us again and again to be present to each different present, to be touchable and findable, to be one who is living up to the very fierce consequences of being bodily present in the world.
To forge an untouchable, invulnerable identity is actually a sign of retreat from this world; of weakness, a sign of fear rather than strength, and betrays a strange misunderstanding of an abiding, foundational and necessary reality: that untouched, we disappear.
…
Excerpted from ‘TOUCH’ From
CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment
and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words. by David Whyte

let’s do something new
me and you
let’s travel uncharted territory
make new maps of all we find
let’s create a new heaven
and a new earth
just by touching each other’s souls
tracing hearts around each other’s scars
being kind to one another
let’s do something extraordinary
something spectacular
something world changing
something wild
let’s create a brand new star
just by loving each other
so completely
it starts a supernova of epic proportion
let’s do something fun
something we can laugh at forever
something to bring joy into the room
peace into this broken world
💞
AL
Things take their own time. The seeds planted do not sprout the next day, but that does not mean they never will. Be patient. Your life only gets better when you do. Work on yourself and the rest will follow. You will bloom to the person you were always meant to BE. — Unknown
&
I wake up this morning,
thinking…
of conversation
of love
of friendship
of anam cara
of music
of poetry
of art
of creating
of beauty
of kindness
of truth
of life
of writing
of pens
of ink
of gratitude
of allowing
of hoping
of partnership
of relationship
of rEVOLution
of all things new
of souls and time
of forces of nature
of beauty and all she is
of magical moments
of miracle days
of the real meaning of home
💞
AL

Rest is the conversation between what we love to do and how we love to be. Rest is the essence of giving and receiving; an act of remembering, imaginatively and intellectually but also physiologically and physically. To rest is to give up on the already exhausted will as the prime motivator of endeavor, with its endless outward need to reward itself through established goals. To rest is to give up on worrying and fretting and the sense that there is something wrong with the world unless we are there to put it right; to rest is to fall back literally or figuratively from outer targets and shift the goal not to an inner static bull’s eye, an imagined state of perfect stillness, but to an inner state of natural exchange.
The template of natural exchange is the breath, the autonomic giving and receiving that forms the basis and the measure of life itself. We are rested when we are a living exchange between what lies inside and what lies outside, when we are an intriguing conversation between the potential that lies in our imagination and the possibilities for making that internal image real in the world; we are rested when we let things alone and let ourselves alone, to do what we do best, breathe as the body intended us to breathe, to walk as we were meant to walk, to live with the rhythm of a house and a home, giving and taking through cooking and cleaning.
When we give and take in an easy foundational way we are closest to the authentic self, and closest to that self when we are most rested. To rest is not self indulgent, to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves, and to perhaps, most importantly, arrive at a place where we are able to understand what we have already been given.
In the first state of rest is the sense of stopping, of giving up on what we have been doing or how we have been being. In the second, is the sense of slowly coming home, the physical journey into the body’s un-coerced and un-bullied self, as if trying to remember the way or even the destination itself. In the third state is a sense of healing and self-forgiveness and of arrival. In the fourth state, deep in the primal exchange of the breath, is the give and the take, the blessing and the being blessed and the ability to delight in both. The fifth stage is a sense of absolute readiness and presence, a delight in and an anticipation of the world and all its forms; a sense of being the meeting itself between inner and outer, and that receiving and responding occur in one spontaneous movement.
A deep experience of rest is the template of perfection in the human imagination, a perspective from which we are able to perceive the outer specific forms of our work and our relationships whilst being nourished by the shared foundational gift of the breath itself. From this perspective we can be rested while putting together an elaborate meal for an arriving crowd, whilst climbing the highest mountain or sitting at home surrounded by the chaos of a loving family.
Rested, we are ready for the world but not held hostage by it, rested we care again for the right things and the right people in the right way. In rest we reestablish the goals that make us more generous, more courageous, more of an invitation, someone we want to remember, and someone others would want to remember too.
…
REST By David Whyte
there are words strung together
in such beauty
lined up in perfect sequence
finally arranged in such a way
they touch secret places
of pain so hidden inside us
they have had no way of expression
they almost don’t exist
they are so deep
so shadowy scarred and twisted
so nameless I can’t acknowledge them
because they might possibly be a ghost
and why would I disturb alien creatures,
when there is quite enough pain
right here in plain sight
to try to heal and deal with?
until these thoughts appear,
the magical key,
and shadows become real,
in these words of another –
because the other
has felt
has written
has sung
has wrestled and wrangled with…
this too!
and the words they have mined
from these dark, broken quarries
touch that wispy, pain-filled place
inside of me
with delicate fingers
and declare they are so,
and, somehow,
they make them alright,
binding and healing
my shame-filled broken bones
my secret stab wounds
my almost too pain-full to be real
merely by sharing them out loud!
Suddenly, my soul says, aha!
And I breathe again,
and I lay down to rest.
Then roses in my heart
turn from blush to deepest crimson
and birds come and build nests in the trees,
which declare every moment that
Yahweh is always gracious,
and the morning wakes up
new and alive.
Then love burns seven times hotter
than I ever even thought possible
and I count gift after gift
of never-before-seen riches at my fingertips
as I step into a life
that matters
because I am beloved
because I understand myself better
and the meaning of,
It is what it is
and
the truth shall set you free
become my praise songs
because I AM
with every word
and I grin and say,
‘You aren’t much, my girl’
and I belly laugh…
because it is true!
and then I laugh even harder because,
truth is also,
I AM everything I need to be!
oh, hallelujah
glory be!
🌞
AL
It feels like the end of something
but we forget the rest.
It is a door
and something on the other side,
this moment a single petal
of a rose unfolding.
From the doorway looking back
we see you walking along
and ahead we see you
walking along.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

miles come
miles go
some stay a while
some roll on beneath our feet
or our wheels
barely noticed
driving in the fast lane
with the windows rolled up tightly
in God we trust
unfolding on every bill we pull from pocket
but, the world doesn’t work that way…
or does it?
peace,
love,
always seal the deal
go ahead,
open the door,
walk away free,
changed
ready to see some new things
every choice brings us to our new place
right here
right now
notice it
say thank you
always say
thank you
🚪
AL


photos found at http://www.pinterest.com