life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “inspiration”

A Lifetime A Day

In the space between breaths
It can be gone –
A month’s worth of words
erased with a fingertip.
A 12, 30 even 60 year marriage over
With 4 words spoken:
I want a divorce.
A home with all its possessions
destroyed in a matter of minutes
in the fury of nature –
Fire
or storm
or selfishness
1 healing
Life!
so fragile,
with no guarantees
of longevity
or comfort,
begs to be lived
now.
A lifetime a day
is the only way
to count
for the sake of goodness.
This is the only moment that counts
The only thing eternal
are these moments
that don’t wait.
Take a deep deep breath
of the spirit that is giving it all.
say thank you
for the only gift that matter,
the only thing that remains.
All else can be destroyed.
When nothing else remains,
what is this eternal gift?
Love

AL 12/22/12

Holy One,
I am your vessel,
your cup, your picture frame.
I am the brush and you are the art.
I am the candle; you are the flame.
I am the school bus and you are the children.
I am the ship and you are my freight.
I am the body and you are my soul,
my heartbeat, my nerve, my breath.
You are the harp and I am the string;
I am the string and you are the music;
I am the music and you are the words.
Holy One, I am your life in this life,
and you are my life.
Bear me on
as I bear you
into the world,
O Holy One.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

A Blessing for One Who is Exhausted

by John O’Donohue

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight,

The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.

Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.

The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.

You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken for the race of days.

At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.

Worn
Tenth Avenue North
Album: The Struggle

I’m Tired I’m worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes to keep on breathing
I’ve made mistakes
I’ve let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed by the weight of this world
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn
I wanna know the sun can rise from the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up
But im too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn
I wanna know the sun can rise from the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn
My prayers are wearing thin
And I’m worn
Even before the day begins
I’m worn
I’ve lost my will to fight
I’m worn
Heaven come and flood my eyes

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn
I wanna know the sun can rise from the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause all that’s dead inside will be reborn

Though I’m worn
Yeah I’m worn

20130110-082259.jpg

life…

Life is an opportunity, benefit from it. Life is beauty,
admire it. Life is a dream, realize it. Life is a challenge,
meet it. Life is a duty, complete it. Life is a game, play it.
Life is a promise, fulfill it. Life is sorrow, overcome it.
Life is a song, sing it. Life is a struggle, accept it. Life
is a tragedy, confront it. Life is an adventure, dare it. Life
is luck, make it. Life is life, fight for it.
– Mother Teresa

20121220-100357.jpg

where the dark things are

4aMost of our Advent traditions formed centuries ago among Christian and  pre-Christian Celtic and Germanic peoples, as they approached the winter solstice.  So there’s a lot about darkness, stillness and silence.   Farmers removed idle wagon wheels to make wreaths with candles,  reflecting on the fallow season of waiting and hope. All this darkness  and cold might sound a little off to you who live in Australia, where  summer’s about to begin, or South Africa or Brazil, or for that matter  even Texas. While we’re singing about the “bleak midwinter” the folks in Corpus Christi and Adelaide go to the beach.

We call this a  season of silence and stillness―notice how may carols have silence in  them―but we’re rushing around, busier than ever, and making more noise  than usual ringing bells and singing in public, if you can believe it!  We’re playing music and stringing up extra lights as if to banish the  very darkness and silence we adore.

The darkness and quiet of  December in the north country is a symbol, but not the whole of it.  After all, there isn’t that much bleak, dark midwinter in Bethlehem―and  actually Jesus probably wasn’t born in the winter anyway. “The dawn that breaks upon those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death” has  nothing to do with latitude. The darkness of Advent is the darkness  within, and the darkness of a fearful, competitive world.  The silence  is the deep silence at the center of our souls.  That’s where Advent  happens, and the birth of Christ unfolds.

Where is the darkness in your life? Where are the places in your life where you can’t see,  where the known disappears into the unknown?  Where is that place in  your awareness where you can be without “seeing,” without knowing or  understanding, and be at peace?

Where is the silence in you?  You won’t find it “out there.” Go within. Sit with it.  Sit with it a lot,  and let it speak to you in the language of angels, the language of God,  which is silence.

Your wagon wheels may not be idle, but there is a place of quiet in your soul. Where are the empty places in your  life?  We might feel uncomfortable about  emptiness, but an empty place  is one where the Christ child can come when there is “no room in the  inn” elsewhere. Perhaps even the painfully empty places―the places of  loss, bereavement, poverty or fruitlessness―maybe these are places where even now angels are gathering.

Don’t expect the world to offer  you darkness, silence and stillness.  Go to where  they are, and wait  there. God will meet you there.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

poetry is a gift

Last issue of the year – Songs from the Valley newletter (a gift for you) over at www.songsfromthevalley.com

4a

This World Is Not Conclusion
Emily Dickinson.

this world is not conclusion
a species stands beyond –
invisible, as music –
but positive as sound –

it beckons, and it baffles
philosophy – don’t know –
and through a riddle, at the last –
sagacity must go –

to guess it, puzzles scholars –
to gain it, men have borne
contempt of generations
and crucifixion, shown –

faith slips – and laughs, and rallies –
blushes, if any see –
plucks at a twig of evidence –
and asks a vane, the way –

much gesture, from the pulpit –
strong hallelujahs roll –
narcotics cannot still the tooth
that nibbles at the soul –
________
Public Domain
4

it’s your life! have an adventure!!!

Cherish your solitude. Take trains by yourself to places you have never been. Sleep out alone under the stars. Learn how to drive a stick shift. Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back. Say no when you don’t want to do something. Say yes if your instincts are strong, even if everyone around you disagrees. Decide whether you want to be liked or admired. Decide if fitting in is more important than
finding out what you’re doing here. Believe in kissing.
– Eve Ensler

20121211-081442.jpg

make today the best day of your life!

Everything is My fault
by Derek Sivers
http://sivers.org/

I cut two chapters out of my book because they were too nasty.

T4ahey vented all the awful details about how my terrible employees staged a mutiny to try to get rid of me, and corrupted the culture of the company into a festering pool of entitlement, focused only on their benefits instead of our clients.

Afterwards, I spent a few years still mad at those evil brats for what they did.  So, like anyone feeling victimized and wronged, I needed to vent – to tell my side of the story.  Or so I thought.

So do you want to know the real reason I cut those chapters?

I realized it was all my fault.

  • I let the culture of the company get corrupted.
  • I ignored problems instead of nipping them in the bud.
  • I was aloof and away instead of managing or training managers.
  • I confused everyone by sharing my daily thoughts before they had cemented into decisions.
  • I announced decisions, then assumed they were being done, without following-up to ensure.
  • I whimsically delegated to the wrong people, avoiding the mental work of choosing wisely.
  • (I could list another 20 of these, but you get the idea.)

It felt so SO good to realize it was my fault!

This is way better than forgiving.  When you forgive, you’re still playing the victim, and they’re still wrong, but you’re charitably pardoning their horrible deeds.

But to decide it’s your fault feels amazing!  Now you weren’t wronged.  They were just playing their part in the situation you created.  They’re just delivering the punch-line to the joke you set up.

What power!  Now you’re like a new super-hero, just discovering your strength.  Now you’re the powerful person that made things happen, made a mistake, and can learn from it.  Now you’re in control and there’s nothing to complain about.

This philosophy feels so good that I’ve playfully decided to apply this “EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT” rule to the rest of my life.

It’s one of those base rules like “people mean well” that’s more fun to believe, and have a few exceptions, than to not believe at all.

  • The guy that stole $9000 from me? My fault.  I should have verified his claims.
  • The love of my life that dumped me out of the blue (by email!) after 6 years? My fault.  I let our relationship plateau.
  • Someone was rude to me today? My fault.  I could have lightened their mood beforehand.
  • Don’t like my government? My fault.  I could get involved and change the world.

See what power it is?

Yes, the word “responsibility” is more accurate, but it’s such a serious 6-syllable word, whereas “everything’s my fault” is a fun rule-of-thumb, and gets me singing Nirvana’s “All Apologies”.

Try it on.  Stand up, open the window, look out at the world and shout, “Everything is my fault!

Think of every bad thing that happened to you, and say it again.

Cool, huh?

That power looks good on you.

change your story

TEN
In a dream more real than his daytime,

 a grown man meets himself.

Himself at just ten.

1a

With the light in his eyes.

And the world in his heart.

He sets out to explain to his young self why he’s taken the road to someone else’s somewhere.

But he can’t.

And in the deafening silence he shakes uncontrollably.

As the years of an unconsidered life spill over.

And in that silence everything changes.

Forever.

Perhaps the ten year old had been his very soul in disguise.

Come to shake him from the prison of his daytime.

Nic Askew
Soul Biographies

what’s in yours?

WHAT’S IN MY JUNK DRAWER

1a

A rubber-band sphere of emotion.
Two black and whites of me walking
in blue seersucker on Santorini, age ten.
The rainbow swirled super-ball that left a ding
in the ceiling of our first apartment in Baltimore.
Heinous thoughts of my best friend in sixth grade
telling me she had found someone else.
Two pair of tortoise shell glasses
I can’t see through anymore.
The verbal slap across the face
from Mlle Marechaux freshman year.
Six packs of spare buttons in mini-manila envelopes.
A thin gold band from a first marriage, discarded.
The stuffed bunny I won at “guess your age” on the midway.
Three Valentine’s Day cards from the year we were engaged.
Wadded up feelings from the year
Mama left us when I was thirteen.
The positive pregnancy-test declaring
my twenty-three year old son.
One pearl earring, grieving for her mate.
The detritus of fifty-five years in the swamp of life.

Anni Macht Gibson

what’s your favorite word? mine is passion! I want it lived and worn!!!

1aPerhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, the only fact we have. It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death–ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life.
– James Baldwin

Post Navigation