I’m not sure who decided that dandelions were weeds, but the poor dandelion got a bad deal.
I walked through my new yard this morning on a beautiful bed of cheery, wish-filled dandelions, my favorite little violets and lucky, lucky clover. I sat on the deck and discovered the cutest little inch worm crawling on my hand and sang the inch worm song as i put him back in the grass, and as I thrilled to the bounty and beauty of spring, I was also reminded of my dad paying me a luxurious nickel for each large paper grocery bag full of dandelions I produced. I was never very good and probably only deserved 1/2 of my nickel! Ha
I’m kinda proud of that now, cause I like dandelions! Who decided they were weeds?????
More to come when I get rested up and get somewhat settled!
Happy Spring – bask, wallow and enjoy every beautiful bit!
Happy Spring to all!
Happy Spring to all!
Spring is busting out all over and the world is full of beautiful color! I love Spring!!!! My very favorite season!
Last year I did a Spring newsletter http://songsfromthevalley.com/March%2011%204.9%20Spring.pdf
Claiming the Sacredness of Our Being
Are we friends with ourselves? Do we love who we are? These are important questions because we cannot develop good friendships with others unless we have befriended ourselves.
How then do we befriend ourselves? We have to start by acknowledging the truth of ourselves. We are beautiful but also limited, rich but also poor, generous but also worried about our security. Yet beyond all that we are people with souls, sparks of the divine. To acknowledge the truth of ourselves is to claim the sacredness of our being, without fully understanding it. Our deepest being escapes our own mental or emotional grasp. But when we trust that our souls are embraced by a loving God, we can befriend ourselves and reach out to others in loving relationships.
Henri Nouwen
http://www.henrinouwen.org/
Toward the end of winter I came upon
the Lord on a diamond, batting.
I said, “ Lord, what are you doing?”
“These are your sins,” he said,
as a shadowy figure on the mound
with a vicious arm pitched.
He had no instinct: swung at everything,
even dirtballs. And hit ’em every time.
He had a beautiful swing,
fluid, sure, and joyful.
He hit pitch after pitch, endlessly.
I lost myself, watching.
“Out of the park” he said, his eye
on a nasty looking knuckleball,
and swung like a dancer,
gracefully unwinding. Chock!
It rose up over the fence, over the trees,
released from all earthly bonds,
floating free until it disappeared,
infinitely gone, still rising.
He watched it go, as if
he’d never seen such a beautiful thing.
“I love this game,” he grinned,
and set for another pitch.
I think he was honestly
pleased with himself.
______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Used With Permission
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
happy spring training baseball people!