life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “Life”

grace never runs from trouble

 

She Surrenders

Completely
She surrenders her pen
She surrenders her sword
To listen
Intently
Trusting the beat of her heart to begin to rise
The warmth in her spirit to be lifted
For her to return to her Golden Center
Where love is in charge

Trusting
She surrenders her time 
She surrenders her thoughts
To be still
In the moment
Guided by the rhythm that life has given her
Supported by the unknown in ways she can never understand
Hearing the beat of the universe return to her Golden Center
Where love is in charge

Grounded
She surrenders her anger
She surrenders her pain
Knowing
Absolutely
Feeling the answers flowing through her like a guided light
Probing her body and touching her nerves like an angels kiss
Aligning her spirit with her body as she returns to her Golden Center
Where love is in charge

Supported
She surrenders her anguish
She surrenders her doubt
Confident
Rebalanced
In time she remembers all that she is and that all is well
The heat of her Golden Center
As molten as the energy within core of the earth
Where love is in charge

Revitalized
She surrenders her indecision
She surrenders her life
To Purpose
Serving from Overflow
Sharing her gifts with the world 
Her heartbeat realigned with that of the universe, the sun, the stars and the moon
As long as she keeps returning to her Golden Center 
Where love is in charge
πŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒ
http://awomanonpurpose.tv/she-surrenders-2/

Alexandra Gold

πŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒ

 

 

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

  

 

what’s meant to be will be

 

 Longing for what I don’t have,

aware of the great space between us,

not driven to fill it,
yet there is a loneliness, a waiting,
not sadness, not pathetic at all,
but a homesickness,
remembering what I long for,
what I long to know,
patient with my unknowing, 
and the dull, burning ache of my knowing,
trusting there is always more of love
than I can sense,
a great, wide solitude
I won’t clutter with less or other.

Such spaciousness leaves room
for these deep sighs
and profound joys
and mostly these calm, roomy smiles 

I find sprinkled generously 
throughout any given day. 

ACL 4/11/15

(edited from Unfolding Light Waiting Thomas by Steve Garnaas-Holmes)

 

  

  

 

  

Listen to Desperado Linda Ronstadt http://youtu.be/uVhRqH7euHI

Photo sources at www.pinterest.com/al513

the power of broken hearts

 

  

The beginning is such a good place to be. There is much in store. But there is acknowledgment of what came before the beginning to mark this moment as a beginning. And in that place I was there, too. But let’s start where beginning isβ€”the union of Me and you, the awakening of your heart, bit by bit, to Me.

 

I awaken you further, now.

 

These first starts are for you to appreciate the moments that came before themβ€”to see where I was, what I was doing, before you recognized my presence. Let me take you back to where I was when you couldn’t see Me there. Perhaps the definitions of beginning will need to be rewritten.

 

I always begin again in you. 

 

I am the discovery of the beginningβ€”all hope and life in you. I will give you a fresh start this day. I give you new breath, new eyes, new adventures to set out on with Me. But I want to start this beginning by going back to where I’ve always been with you.

 

I have always been with you, even when you couldn’t see it. I want to show you now.

🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠

Loop @ Gather Ministries 

http://us5.campaign-archive1.com/?u=278b78041b94c30f445911b53&id=ae645e9e7d&e=b9eb1d83ef

 

 

 

photo sources found @ www.pinterest.com/al513

 

 

 

threadΒ 

 

 Something is very gently,

invisibly, silently,
pulling at meβ€”a thread
or net of threads
finer than cobweb and as
elastic. I haven’t tried
the strength of it. No barbed hook
pierced and tore me. Was it
not long ago this thread
began to draw me? Or
way back? Was I
born with its knot about my
neck, a bridle? Not fear
but a stirring
of wonder makes me
catch my breath when I feel
the tug of it when I thought
it had loosened itself and gone.


The Thread by Denise Levertov

 

 

BEGINNING well or beginning poorly, what is important is simply to begin, but the ability to make a good beginning is also an art form, beginning well involves a courageous clearing away of the confusing, the cluttered and the complicated to find the beautiful, often hidden lineaments of the essential and the necessary. 

Beginning is difficult, and our procrastination is a fine, ever-present measure of our reluctance in taking that first close-in, courageous step to reclaiming our happiness. Perhaps, because taking a new step always leads to a kind of radical internal simplification, where, suddenly, very large parts of us, parts of us we have kept gainfully employed for years, parts of us still rehearsing the old complicated story, are suddenly out of a job. There occurs in effect, a form of internal corporate downsizing, where the parts of us too afraid to participate or having nothing now to offer, are let go, with all of the accompanying death-like trauma. In effect we must sit by the death bed of our own old, now departing wishes and come to the new step, learning that this new, less complicated self, and this very simple step, is all that is needed for the new possibilities ahead. 

It is always hard to believe that the courageous step is so close to us, that it is closer than we ever could imagine, that in fact, we already know what it is, and that the step is simpler, more radical than we had thought: which is why we so often prefer to live in an almost world, why we prefer the story to be more elaborate, our identities to be safely clouded by fear, why we want the horizon to remain always in the distance, the promise never fully and simply made, the essay longer than it needs to be and the answer safely in the realm of impossibility.
πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’
β€˜BEGINNING’ From CONSOLATIONS: 
The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning 
of Everyday Words
Β© 2015 David Whyte and Many Rivers Press

Now Available 

http://davidwhyte.stores.yahoo.net/newbook.html

 

 

 

Listen to Frank Sinatra Love’s Been Good to Me http://youtu.be/9pLpzNPiB48

photo sources foind at www.pinterest.com/al513

  

 

 

 

every little things gonna be alright…

 

Spring Blessing

One day you wake up
able to name the weight 
you’ve been carrying.
Realizing it’s not part of your body or your being,
not essential in any way to journeying or joy,
you set it down gently, without fanfare
in the long soft grass at the side of the road
and walk on
surprised to find yourself
smiling in the warm sun
for no particular reason.

~Oriah Mountain Dreamer Β© 2015

  

Listen to Dinah Washington What A Difference A Day Makes http://youtu.be/OmBxVfQTuvI 

🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈❀️

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

 

connections

 


This is the house that Jack built!
This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat that killed the rat
That ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn
That married the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn
That married the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn
That married the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built!

🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑

This is the House that Jack Built by Anonymous

 

 

 

 
 

 

  Listen to Miranda Lambert The House that Built Me http://youtu.be/DQYNM6SjD_o

Photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

 

 

 

 

and the sad things begin to be upended… Β  Β  Β – Ann Voskamp

 

 When the cross hits your life, a loneliness, a blindness and a darkness come all around you. Darkness and lostness are the worst parts of suffering. The wonder of the Resurrection is that this darkness was opened out and at the heart of the darkness a secret light was discovered. Each one of us who has come here hasn’t come to this place out of curiosity but we have come because we know the need that is in our lives and we know the frailty that is in our hearts and minds. We are strangers in the world. In our journey through life anything can befall us. It seems to be very difficult for us as humans to learn how to love, to learn how the let the fear and the resentment and the blindness fall away from us and to come into the special joy and peace and freedom of love. No matter how assured or competent we may feel, there is none of us who has not large territories of fear in our hearts, fear of sharing ourselves, of opening ourselves, of entering life. That is why we come to an ancient holy place like this, before the dawn, to let the new tender light of the resurrection touch our helpless fear and transfigure it and open it into courage. 


~ John O’Donohue from his Easter Homily at Corcomroe Abbey 1992

 

Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed!

Crucified and risen Christ,
flood my heart with your light
and my soul with your living presence,
that I may trust the victory of God,
the victory of love over violence,
of life over death.
By your rising give me courage
to know that evil and oppression,
though they seem to reign,
have already been defeated.
You who bear me in your heart,
you have raised me up with you,
and set me free from my fear,
free from shame and despair,
free from all that would imprison me,
from all that would keep me 
from loving perfectly. 

Loving Christ, 
I have died in you and risen in you.
May I walk with courage
into this new life.
Amen.

__________________  
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net

 

 Listen to Sandi Patty sing Was It a Morning Like This? 

http://youtu.be/eb1ayV5sTtM

πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†

                                           Shake out your qualms. 
                                                Shake up your dreams. 
                                                Deepen your roots. 
                                                Extend your branches. 
                                                Trust deep water 
                                                and head for the open, 
                                                even if your vision 
                                                shipwrecks you. 
                                                Quit your addiction 
                                                to sneer and complain. 
                                                Open a lookout. 
                                                Dance on a brink. 
                                                Run with your wildfire. 
                                                You are closer to glory 
                                                leaping an abyss 
                                                than upholstering a rut. 
                                                Not dawdling. 
                                                Not doubting. 
                                                Intrepid all the way 
                                                Walk toward clarity. 
                                                At every crossroad 
                                                Be prepared 
                                                to bump into wonder. 
                                                Only love prevails. 
                                                En route to disaster 
                                                insist on canticles. 
                                                Lift your ineffable 
                                                out of the mundane. 
                                                Nothing perishes; 
                                                nothing survives; 
                                                everything transforms! 
                                                Honeymoon with Big Joy! 

Easter Exultet by James Broughton

πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†

photo sources found at

www.pinterest.com/al513

 

good friday

 

come with Jesus to the lynching tree
we stand aside and nod
good thing it wasn’t you or me
but just some lamb of god

we sing our hymns we know them well
we sing our righteous songs
and so we send that boy to hell
for that will right our wrongs

some people weeping in the street
they cry the lynching tree
but we can’t quit the judgment seat
the way it has to be

the boy is dead lay out the pall
it’s finished move along
but how come he forgives us all
before we know it’s wrong

how come the god we slight and say
that it’s all right to kill
the god who died comes back our way
and loves us loves us still

it looks so dark the lynching tree
so dark for you and me
but here’s the strangest thing I see
a bud upon that tree

__________________  
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net

Listen to Adele sing http://youtu.be/4k-W6cZ2CiY

πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”

photo source found at www.pinterest.com/al513

Where there is great love there are always miracles. Β  Β  – Willa Cather

 

 For happiness

Unearthing what she is holding on to

Realizing fears that are not her own

Letting go of what she does not need

Making room for joy

 

The happier she is

The less she needs

 

The less she needs

The more room there is for happiness

 

It is not as easy as it sounds

To excavate her joy

To release fears that are not hers

To understand those that are

Then let go

Takes courage

Takes deep reflection

 

She has to remember

She has to accept

She has to take risks

 

For she lives in this world

Not in the yesterday

Not in the tomorrow

She has to live in today

 

Oh, deep in her heart she wants to make the best of it

Oh, deep in her soul she wants to be in love

Oh, deep in her mind she wants happiness

 

But

In order to decide what that is

She needs to get rid of the distractions

Remember what makes her happy

Find new joy

Explore new avenues

Seek new adventures

She needs to takes risks

 

Surrounded by what she is told

She must have

She must do

She must become

Gathering her courage

Gathering her thoughts

Gathering only that which she needs

 

She lets go of all that no longer serves her

Her home?

Her country?

Her way of life?

Her judgment?

Her perceptions?

Her conditioning?

What does she have?

 

Freedom

Freedom to think

Freedom to move

Freedom to start again

Freedom to learn

Freedom to create

All that she desires

Really

Truly

Simply

 

She becomes a pioneer of discovery

She takes risks

πŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒ

A Woman On Purpose 

http://awomanonpurpose.tv/she-takes-risks/

 Watch Soul Suckers by Amos Lee πŸ’ž

 http://youtu.be/zqidM_U9rgU

πŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒ

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

beautiful mess

 

 We can’t find our path without getting messy. Messy comes with the territory. We came in messy. We learn messy. We love messy. We grow messy. We leave messy. I never found my way to clarity without first befriending confusion, in all its chaotic forms. I never found a path that felt like home before falling into quick-sand. I never established a new way of being without trying the wrong way of being on for size. I never found the light without stumbling around in the dark. I never tasted God before getting a little dirt in my mouth. Not that all messiness is good messiness, but some of it is. In the heart of the chaos, is the clay that shapes us home. Chaotic Magnificence!

      – Jeff Brown    

  

 

 

 

Photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513 

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