life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “Love”

why should I worry or fret?


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

soul dancin’ swayin’ to the music…  


When we choose indifference, we betray our world. Yet the world is not decided by action alone. It is decided more by consciousness and spirit; they are the secret sources of all action and behavior. The spirit of a time is an incredibly subtle, yet hugely powerful force. And it is comprised of the mentality and spirit of all individuals together. Therefore, the way you look at things is not simply a private matter. Your outlook actually and concretely affects what goes on. When you give in to helplessness, you collude with despair and add to it. When you take back your power and choose to see the possibilities for healing and transformation, your creativity awakens and flows to become an active force of renewal and encouragement in the world. In this way, even in your own hidden life, you can become a powerful agent of transformation in a broken, darkened world. There is a huge force field that opens when intention focuses and directs itself toward transformation. 
John O’Donohue
Excerpt from 

 TO BLESS THE SPACE BETWEEN US (US)


quote by Wayne Dyer

here’s the thing…
what’s a girl to do with all this happiness?
what sort of containers can hold this amount of wild joy?
will howling at the moon help?
or dancing in a beautiful fountain with you? 
will you take a back road to see me? 
tell me  I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?
will you love me?
living well doesn’t depend on it…
but it would be nice…

 to share this happiness with you
do something wild?

spend some beautiful time together 

on this beautiful journey?
Let’s allow joy to flow in big puddles all around us,

do some soul dancing, 
till we swim in the ocean of all this amazing grace!

💞

AL

Anytime I feel lost, I pull out a map and stare. I stare until I have reminded myself that life is a giant adventure, so much to do, to see.

       – Angelina Jolie 

 backbonez kinda people


You are not a coward. You have walked into the countless firestorms of life that would make the knees of a champion shudder at the very sight. You raised a child and held the hand of a dying loved one. You pulled from every inner resource to keep an entire family functioning and fed. You are not a coward. You once hit the bottom of a dark pit only to climb out to greet the next light of transition. You didn’t need nerves of steel or pray for superhuman strength, but relied on a determined heart of love to live your life for something big. 

   ~Susan Frybort, author of ‘Hope is a Traveler’


The Truth
I believe people can change

because of the changes in me
but…

they have to see the need

and want to change themselves
not everyone will change

just because I love them,

or they love me –

just because I want them to –

in fact, most of them won’t
My part in life, is to be myself,

realize my value,

live what I believe

and not allow someone else

to change me into who I am not,

or take away my value
To be in a relationship with someone

is to trust all that you are to another person

and to trust someone enough to allow them into yourself
If that other person has values, 

or behaviors,

that are damaging them, 

they will damage me. 

they will bring harm to who I am. 

What and who I become in the relationship 

will necessarily reflect what and who they are

how we speak to, and treat each other,

will make a major difference in the quality of our lives. 

This is the truth

AL





what am I missing? 

The speaker points out 

that we don’t really have

much of a grasp of things, 

not only the big things,

the important questions, 

but the small everyday

things. 

“How many steps up to your back yard? 

What is the name of your district representative? 

What did you have for breakfast? 

What is your wife’s shoe size? 

Can you tell me the color of your sweetheart’s eyes? 

Do you remember where you parked the car?” 

The evidence is overwhelming.

Most of us never truly experience life. 

“We drift through life in daydream, 

missing the true richness and joy that life has to offer.” 

When the speaker has finished we gather around to sing a few inspirational songs. 

You and I stand at the back of the group and hum along 

since we have forgotten most of the words.

😜
The Speaker by Louis Jenkins


Mary Oliver reminds me

to let go of any need that might linger in me

to, even try, to impress anyone. 

But to stay alert to the extravagant impressiveness around me, 

puddling at my feet,

drowning my life with goodness. 

To be easily astonished,

easily filled with wonder,

to let life boggle my mind.

To stay a child of joy and nature,

a collector of miracles. 

To stay in awe of sunsets

and dandelions,

coffee shops

and grasshoppers.

To gasp every time I get a view of the ocean,

to be breathless at the view from a mountaintop road at sunset. 

To feel wonder when I see a leaf change color.

To crane my neck, every single time, to catch a glimpse of sunlight on water,

to thrill everytime I touch the curve of a babies cheek. 

To get a chill of macabre delight

at gnarly, old toenails,

and bats hanging upside down

in a dark damp cave,

or flying around a street light as darkness falls slowly through the air. 

Such things keep me alive. 

These are the true riches of our living. 

Extreme miracles everywhere around us. 

We are here to witness, 

here to share descriptions of such beauty, 

even our feeble attempts are so amazing

they boggle the mind. 

Thank you, Mary Oliver, for this reminder, 

with your every beautiful, glorious word. 

We are each here to do our part,

to record our miracles

in our own voices, 

pens,

paints,

dances,

lyrics,

artistry,

we make up this tapestry,

we record the blazing glory,

the divine masterpiece. 

We each add notes to the grand symphony,

allowing the rocks to stay silent – 

at least for those who

don’t care to listen for the exquisite, out-of-this-world music they share – 

we play on through each day 

with such brilliance, light and passion,

savoring delight, 

everywhere we go…

until we are gone, 

and those who come behind us

find it all fresh and new once more,

and begin to tell their part of the story, 

in their own beautiful, unique ways. 

💞

AL 

light pours through  

photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT


Mist rises through light poured into the meadow,

blessing breathed into the world.
Here, on the sidewalk, without

having to know, you inhale it.
Not the meadow you saw 

gleaming this morning,
but one far off. This light has come far

to find you. 
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

🌞

shine. shine. shine.   

photo above OF Lissette Hesmadt taken by her daughter!!! Ah-mazing! 

🌞
Never water yourself down just because someone can’t handle you at 100 Proof.

🌞

– Unknown 






Someone you know was walking through the woods alone, just following his whims, when he looked down into the hollow where a dark stream flowed. On the other side of the stream he saw something gold glinting in the darkness. It was out of his way, and looked difficult to reach, but the mysterious thing beckoned to him. So he left the well-maintained path, and descended the steep bank. He made his way, with great effort, through painful brambles and resistant thickets. Beyond the stream he could see the gold thing, shining in a tiny shaft of sunlight. As he stepped into the stream he realized that it was much deeper than he had imagined. He paused, thinking this was a silly obsession. What would people think of him going to all this trouble just to find a piece of trash beside a creek? But that thing seemed to be calling out to him— not from across the stream, but from within him. And he thought, “What better have I to do than to pursue this mystery?” So he plunged into the stream. It was over his head, and cold, and the current was surprisingly strong. He imagined what would happen if he drowned, and they found his body here. How would they explain that? It made him laugh. But he had resolved to make this little journey, so he swam across the current. 

On the other side he waded through the mud to the treasure. It was certainly nothing that anybody else would want. It was an old picture with a gilded frame, dirty and mostly caked with mud, but shiny along one edge. He wiped off the glass. What he saw astonished him. It was a portrait. To someone looking on it might have looked like nothing but vague shapes of light and shadow. But among the dreamy shapes, he saw a portrait of himself! Only it was more noble and beautiful than he could have imagined. In this picture he had purpose. There was a look in his eyes of deep joy and wisdom. And it was clear that whoever had painted the picture had done so with great love and tenderness, with respect for even the tiniest and most ordinary details. Amazed, he stared at it for a long, long time. The afternoon passed away. 

Finally, clutching it to his heart, he returned across the stream. But in the strong current the picture slipped from his hands and it sank into the unreachable depths. At first he wanted to dive down and find it; but then, floating on the water, he realized that it did not matter. He had seen the picture, and it was engraved in his heart; that was all that mattered to him. He crossed the stream and found a new road, eager to go home and, though it seemed impossible, to tell his wife. 

_______________________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

let the desire for beauty rule your life


Abandon every

program and routine.

There is no sequence

of postures.

Stand valiantly and

gently sway

in the breeze of your

own breath.

Let your body rise and fall,

circling slowly, a vast

starry firmament between

the ligaments of each bone,

muscles washed in

attention, moving

out of their ocean wheels,

galactic cells, Wordless

creations of the infinitesimal…

There are no instructions.

There is no book.

No, more slowly.

Go nowhere,

micro-movements

inventing themselves

from molten stillness.

Now it is your own dance.

_________________

Classless Yoga by Uradiance 

💃🏻

http://yourradiance.blogspot.com/2016/05/classless-yoga.html?m=1


Excuse me while I kiss the sky. 

Pardon me while I hug the moon. 

Forgive me while I dance with the ocean. 

Give me a minute while I ring up a few stars. 

Hold your horses while I sing with the angels. 

Patience my old friend while I make love to the world. 

Get some rest while I fly the skies with the eagles. 

Count some sheep while I paint a masterpiece with Mother Nature. 

Then…

Come lay beside me and hold me close, 

touch my soul with lovers hands,

whisper the secrets my heart longs to hear, 

sing to me softly, 

kiss me like butterflies, 

while I love you forever

and ever, 

and we fall asleep together 

each night, 

for a thousand years

then a thousand more. 

Sweet dreams, 

my love. 

and good night. 

💤

AL



warming trends


        On May 24, 1738 John Wesley recorded in his journal: “In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther’s preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.”

God, I thank you for your love, alive in me without my knowing or feeling. Open my heart to trust your grace.  
I pray for those whose hearts have not been warmed, who do not know they are so cherished, forgiven, gifted, blessed and loved. I pray for all who are afraid you don’t love them, for those who live under a “law of sin and death” enforced by abuse or violence in word or flesh, who have been labeled, violated, condemned, judged or rejected. I pray especially for those who have been hurt by life and its hurtful teachings. 
I pray that I may bear your love to all I meet today, that I may be the sign, the word that your grace may warm their heart. For all who may come “very unwillingly” to this life, may I be a gentle, welcoming, saving word. Amen. 
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net



If anything matters then everything matters.       – Wm Paul Young


Love sometimes wants to do us a great favor: hold us upside down and shake all the nonsense out.
Your love

Should never be offered to the mouth of a stranger,

Only to someone who has the valor and daring

To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife

Then weave them into a blanket

To protect you.
Stay close to any sounds that make you glad you are alive.
Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.

I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in the darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.
There are different wells within your heart.

Some fill with each good rain,

Others are far too deep for that
Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.
Even after all this time the sun never says to the Earth, “You owe me”
There is no pleasure without a tincture of bitterness.

💙

   – Hafez



I stand in the cold surf

waiting 

for what I am to receive 

I look at,

then past,

glistening rocks,

colored shells,

green sea glass,

none of them right. 

My back to the Sound,

head down,

Waves coming and going,

Sand shifting under my wet feet. 

I scan, 

wait for what I must recognize –

 then I see it. 

this????

a black glob of rocks stuck together 

browns and grey and bits of reds

it’s ugly

it’s heavy

it’s rough

it’s jagged

it’s not what I thought I wanted,

it’s not what I thought was valuable. 

what is it, that the water has just delivered, 

and I feel lead to pick up

to take home with me?

I want it to be romantic. 

Maybe…

I search for romance…

Could it be a meteorite?

a mystery from another planet?  
I walk the mile home,

wondering what lessons I will learn from this ‘gift’

I have just received from the ocean. 

Almost home,

one more curve,

I spot my favorite kinda caterpillar,

the brown and black,

softest, loveliest velvet

crawler in the world. 

I loved the feel of them as a little girl,

let them crawl all over me.

I pass it,

then double back, 

as directed by intuition,

to visit this small friend. 

I am bent down,

as my fuzzy friend moves along,

and recognition comes. 

I carry, 

in my hands….
asphalt,

ASPHALT???!!!
a piece of the road,  

which came to me by way of the ocean. 
I belly laugh 

as I my lesson, 

my gift,

becomes clear. 

I am,

 right now,

every moment,

in the ocean of grace

no matter where I am

the path is in the ocean of love,

of God. 
This road is everywhere!
It rises to meet me,

no matter where I stand!
I comes one small glimpse at a time. 
This is gift –

teaching me what I need,

bringing me diamonds with each step. 

Living,

 breathing,

learning, 

expanding

thanks 

is the best gift. 
We are always loved

The message is waiting in 

every surf,

every leaf,

every tree,

every song,

every heart beat,

every tiny created thing,

every little moment,

breathes and burns. 
Oh, Beloved,

Remove your shoes. 

Dive into the sky! 

sing

holy, holy, holy!

then fly away 

home.

I’ll meet you there! 

xoxo

🏞
AL


gone fishing 


There is sensual pleasure in a small act done well 

My whole being loves how you cast that fishing rod

sight, sound, smell, touch, hearing all involved

observing,

absorbing,

thrilling; 

It sticks with me and loops in my memory – 

this beautiful dance of motion

playing again and again

the quick, sure whip of the rod,

the slow arc of the line against the blue sky before it breaks the water,

the vulture floating high in the blue and white, being themselves, 

sure of their importance,

not questioning their beauty,

or the importance of their purpose,

the graceful, smooth winding of the reel,

the flash of the silver lure dancing below the surface of the green water 

your patience as you teach me, 

a very amature student –

all revealing a new layer of beauty,

I want to learn this rhythm,

my soul responds with deep desire,

I want to be a natural part of this world,

a silver flash,

a big blue sky. 

🎣

AL


Birds know north without looking.

Some fish have a line down their bodies

to sense electrical fields

or changes in water pressure.

Jumping spiders see ultraviolet.

Bees have a little compass of iron

and can read earth’s magnetic field. 

And there’s a little silver thing in you

that listens to the Holy Spirit.

It’s really quiet, so you have to be quiet

to hear it listening, but it hears.

You don’t have to hear God;

just let the little silver thing in you

listen to the Spirit and speak 

to the rest of your body. 
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


* 4 middle Fish photos above were taken by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

Post Navigation