life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “find art at pinterest”

I see you there on your cloud…will you see me?

Next to grace, I bet God thinks making us need each other was one of his best ideas.
– Bob Goff

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There’s this progressive shedding that has happened as I walk into my own being. Being responsible for ONLY my own life is an ever challenging, evolving process.
Several years ago, much to my surprise, I found some people just didn’t like me. No real reason even, just a vibrant dislike vibe when I walked in. I am super sensitive and my nature is to want to be liked. Yup, I’m a giant people pleaser! My progress has evolved over years of learning, and is still a work in process.
Many years ago I would twist myself into weird shapes and do anything to make the other like me, then I slowly learned to allow it to be and not prove myself, or force anything. It has been a gradual, sometimes extremely painful, learning.
Parallel to that, there has been this great and mighty internal work going on, and as I have shed yesterday and baby-step by baby-step learned tiny, mind blowing truths about what love really looks like, I have also been growing into my own voice.
It’s a rather unexpected thing for me, it’s scary and challenging, and yet essential for me to step into my calling. my purpose here.
I am being called to share my experiences in walking this path. Called to be vulnerable and speak as myself. Now, when people don’t like me, I can’t fully say, ‘Well, they really don’t know me at all. They haven’t encountered the real me’, because, more and more of myself is becoming visible.
I feel very alone. I feel unprepared. I feel unworthy. I feel I’m not good enough. I feel afraid of many things, rejection is one of the biggies.
What I know for sure is…none of these feelings matter. This is bigger than me and I cannot say no. What I have gained is too valuable not to share.
Anyway, this has come out different and longer than I expected when I started writing. I am crying so I know it is what I need to say.
I just ask you to pray for me.
If you are reading this, you are a fellow pilgrim. Thank you for sharing this moment on path with me.
As we say in Kentucky to friends as we go our separate ways for a moment, ‘Ya’ll come see us soon, don’t be a stranger.’

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photo source tracks found at

In every moment the fire rages, It will burn away a hundred veils. And carry you a thousand steps towards your goal. – Rumi

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on the edge of flying
the verge of breaking through
standing in the pouring rain
hoping to find you
somewhere in the darkness
of this dark and stormy night
questions with no answers
crash upon my soul
the fires of hell rage on
bloody battles all around
as I stand within this pain
hoping to find faith in something
in this dark and stormy night
at the end of living
not knowing what to do
lightning strikes, the fire burns,
tears, that match the weather,
flooding from my soul
releasing from this moment –
there’s work for me to do –
now I fly

ACL 2/2/15

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Darkness deserves gratitude. It is the alleluia point at which we learn that all growth does not take place in the sunlight.
– Joan D. Chittister

photo source tracks found at

alchemist training

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Loaves and Fishes

This is not
the age of information.

This is not
the age of information.

Forget the news,
and the radio,
and the blurred screen.

This is the time
of loaves
and fishes.

People are hungry
and one good word is bread
for a thousand.

– David Whyte
from The House of Belonging
©1996 Many Rivers Press

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photo source tracks found at

One of the lies we tell ourselves is that if we do not allow ourselves to dream completely, then we will be less hurt. – Julia Cameron

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Grace

Nothing I have ever done or will ever do
can separate me from
or bring me into the heart of the Beloved.

Oh, I can distract myself from the longing
that whispers day and night for that sacred union,
and some days I am too tired to notice
that what I ache for is and always has been here:
. . . . right here in and at my fingertips,
in the way the breeze lifts my hair,
the way the earth pulls me to her,
the way shared laughter makes my sides ache.

Nothing I have done or will ever do
can make me worthy or unworthy
of being touched by the Lover’s hand and heart,
of being the Lover’s hand and heart in the world.

Grace – the way Infinite Love
gives Himself to us in every moment
the way God unfurls Her tender mercy in our hearts
is a constant invitation to say with the fullness of our being:
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.

~Oriah Mountain Dreamer (c) 2015

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photo source tracks found at

we’re all just ex-babies! embrace it!

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…everyone is involved, whether they like it or not, in the construction of their world. So, it’s never as given as it actually looks; you are always shaping it and building it. And I feel that from that perspective, that each of us is an artist. Secondly, I believe that everyone has imagination. That no matter how mature and adult and sophisticated a person might seem, that person is still essentially an ex-baby. And as children, we all lived in an imaginal world. You know, when you’ve been told don’t cross that wall, because there’s monsters over there, my god, the world you would create on the other side of the wall.
– John O’Donohue
http://www.onbeing.org/program/inner-landscape-beauty/transcript/1125

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King Lear
THERE WOULD BE a strong argument for saying that much of the most powerful preaching of our time is the preaching of the poets, playwrights, novelists because it is often they better than the rest of us who speak with awful honesty about the absence of God in the world and about the storm of his absence, both without and within, which, because it is unendurable, unlivable, drives us to look to the eye of the storm. I think of King Lear especially with its tragic vision of a world in which the good and the bad alike go down to dusty and, it would seem, equally meaningless death with no God to intervene on their behalf, and yet with its vision of a world in which the naked and helpless ones, the victims and fools, become at least truly alive before they die and thus touch however briefly on something that lies beyond the power of death. It is the worldly ones, the ones wise as the world understands wisdom and strong in the way the world understands strength, who are utterly doomed. This is so much the central paradox of Lear that the whole play can be read as a gloss if not a homily on that passage in First Corinthians where Paul expresses the same paradox in almost the same terms by writing, “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise. God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong. God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are” (1 Corinthians 1:27-28), thus pointing as Shakespeare points to the apparent emptiness of the world where God belongs and to how the emptiness starts to echo like an empty shell after a while until you can hear in it the still, small voice of the sea, hear strength in weakness, victory in defeat, presence in absence.
I think of Dostoevski in The Brothers Karamazov when the body of Alyosha’s beloved Father Zossima begins to stink in death instead of giving off fragrance as the dead body of a saint is supposed to, and at the very moment where Alyosha sees the world most abandoned by God, he suddenly finds the world so aflame with God that he rushes out of the chapel where the body lies and kisses the earth as the shaggy face of the world where God, in spite of and in the midst of everything, is.
-Originally published in Telling The Truth
http://m.frederickbuechner.com/

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photo source tracks found at

dreaming

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If I could lift that corner of sunlight that slants
that cuts a dashing swath of burnt yellow across the room,
I would swirl it around without a care and toss it
across my shoulders and breathe in its warmth,
its musty breathe redolent with time without end.

I would huddle within its glorious arms, sinews melting,

and dream of fields under a summer sky.

Rama Desai
https://ramaink.wordpress.com

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Gayatri Prayer

You who are the source of all power,
Whose rays illuminate the world,
Illuminate also my heart
So that it too can do Your work.
🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
While reciting this prayer, visualize the sun’s rays streaming forth into the world, entering your heart, then streaming from your heart’s center back into the world.
💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

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source photo trackbacks found at

clearly I will see you

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Become That Which You Aspire To Be
Life is not a race-but indeed a journey. Be honest. Work hard. Be choosy. Say “thank you”. “I love you”, and “great job” to someone each day. Take time for prayer. Be thankful. Love your life and what you’ve been given, it is not accidental. Search for your purpose and do it as best you can. Dreaming does matter. It allows you to become that which you aspire to be. Laugh often. Appreciate the little things in life and enjoy them. Some of the best things really are free. Do not worry. Forgive, it frees the soul. Take time for yourself. Plan for longevity. Recognize the special people you’ve been blessed to know. Live for today, enjoy the moment. — Bonnie Mohr

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listen to the day

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Beautiful photo by Kerri DeBlasi
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,
its white flag waving over everything,
the landscape vanished,
not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,
and beyond these windows

the government buildings smothered,
schools and libraries buried, the post office lost
under the noiseless drift,
the paths of trains softly blocked,
the world fallen under this falling.

In a while, I will put on some boots
and step out like someone walking in water,
and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,
and I will shake a laden branch
sending a cold shower down on us both.

But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,
a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.
I will make a pot of tea
and listen to the plastic radio on the counter,
as glad as anyone to hear the news

that the Kiddie Corner School is closed,
the Ding-Dong School, closed.
the All Aboard Children’s School, closed,
the Hi-Ho Nursery School, closed,
along with—some will be delighted to hear—

the Toadstool School, the Little School,
Little Sparrows Nursery School,
Little Stars Pre-School, Peas-and-Carrots Day School
the Tom Thumb Child Center, all closed,
and—clap your hands—the Peanuts Play School.

So this is where the children hide all day,
These are the nests where they letter and draw,
where they put on their bright miniature jackets,
all darting and climbing and sliding,
all but the few girls whispering by the fence.

And now I am listening hard
in the grandiose silence of the snow,
trying to hear what those three girls are plotting,
what riot is afoot,
which small queen is about to be brought down.

Snow Day By Billy Collins

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let’s be friends

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If I could see you
and you see me too
look straight into my eyes
cause I’m dying inside
If we could wait for a moment
pause in the crowd
smile at another
say good morning out loud
Well, what would that matter
at the end of the day?

There’d be one less stranger in the world
tonight
one less stranger looking for light
If we would just shine
as we walk through our day
there’d be one less stranger in the world

If you would just speak right from the heart
and let me do that right at the start
If you could allow me my point of view
I’d try to do the same thing for you
If we both ask questions
of answers we seek
Then sit in silence allow each one to speak
Well, what kind of world would these words create?

There’d be one less stranger in the world
tonight
one less stranger looking for light
If we would just shine
as we walk through our day
there’d be one less stranger in the world

see beyond the fear
see both far and near
shine your little light
shine with all your might

ACL 1/25/15

When an iceberg gets flipped over…

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Projects


http://www.liftbump.com/2015/01/36523-iceberg-flips-breathtaking-beauty-hidden-underneath-revealed/

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perfect surrender

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I am always amazed that poems are willing to lie down and sleep inside the flat, closed pages of books. If poems behaved according to their essence, they would be out dancing on the seashore or flying to the heavens or trying to rinse out secrets of the mountains.
– John O’Donohue

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