comes to the table in her rumpled apron
stained with a hundred juices.
“What will it be this morning?”
“Let’s start with some mist
in one of those green valleys,
and a cup of black loam with
a single tree frog.
Then fallen apples over easy
with extra worms,
a side of scattered leaves
in a caramelized sunbeam.”
“That comes with Summer’s last
abandoned bird’s nest salad.
Or soup of the day, fern bog
with skunk cabbage and blue
chanterelles.”
“I’ll take the soup,
a half carafe of Autumn rain,
and a cruller the shape
of a groundhog’s hole.”
She remembers your order by heart.
Old ones keep coming back to this place.
They bring grandchildren.
She knows what you love.
There’s a line to get in.
Sometimes it seems
we have to wait a year,
but its worth it.
🍃
Alfred K LaMotte
Packed in my mind lie all the clothes
Which outward nature wears,
And in its fashion’s hourly change
It all things else repairs.
In vain I look for change abroad,
And can no difference find,
Till some new ray of peace uncalled
Illumes my inmost mind.
What is it gilds the trees and clouds,
And paints the heavens so gay,
But yonder fast-abiding light
With its unchanging ray?
Lo, when the sun streams through the wood,
Upon a winter’s morn,
Where’er his silent beams intrude
The murky night is gone.
How could the patient pine have known
The morning breeze would come,
Or humble flowers anticipate
The insect’s noonday hum,—
Till the new light with morning cheer
From far streamed through the aisles,
And nimbly told the forest trees
For many stretching miles?
I’ve heard within my inmost soul
Such cheerful morning news,
In the horizon of my mind
Have seen such orient hues,
As in the twilight of the dawn,
When the first birds awake,
Are heard within some silent wood,
Where they the small twigs break,
Or in the eastern skies are seen,
Before the sun appears,
The harbingers of summer heats
Which from afar he bears.
🌞
The Inward Morning
Henry David Thoreau
Every night before I go to sleep
I say out loud
Three things that I’m grateful for,
All the significant, insignificant
Extraordinary, ordinary stuff of my life.
It’s a small practice and humble,
And yet, I find I sleep better
Holding what lightens and softens my life
Ever so briefly at the end of the day.
Sunlight, and blueberries,
Good dogs and wool socks,
A fine rain,
A good friend,
Fresh basil and wild phlox,
My father’s good health,
My daughter’s new job,
The song that always makes me cry,
Always at the same part,
No matter how many times I hear it.
Decent coffee at the airport,
And your quiet breathing,
The stories you told me,
The frost patterns on the windows,
English horns and banjos,
Wood Thrush and June bugs,
The smooth glassy calm of the morning pond,
An old coat,
A new poem,
My library card,
And that my car keeps running
Despite all the miles.
And after three things,
More often than not,
I get on a roll and I just keep on going,
I keep naming and listing,
Until I lie grinning,
Blankets pulled up to my chin,
Awash with wonder
At the sweetness of it all.
🤗
Three Gratitudes
BY CARRIE NEWCOMER
these two pictures are from Robin OK’s morning from Michigan. The rest are from my morning walk in Branford, CT with Phoebe Snow Good Times!
adding this below – just sent via text from my friend, Anni, currently in Scotland for her daughters wedding!!
and from my friend, Bill…this day just keeps giving…
Living systems never really settle down.
– John Holland
We were only to sleep for a short while.
Words stuck in thick layers , they are there and then they are gone …and the fire burns day and night…like some drift wood set a blaze on a lonely hill.
Not many know the fire…not many know the Way…
but that fire keeps setting the sun to blaze; Spirit beats within the body and pages are blank…
It is everything, and it is nothing.
Spirit empties one to naked longing, then traps the soul in a loving embrace.
Vowed to live it’s days on earth, as it is in heaven…
Soul , human body with mystery and mayhem…
With preoccupation with the Holy; with adoration won…with words that ache to be heard but have no expression in this realm…
Veil once torn…eye filled with Light…
Worlds riding within worlds…glances, witness, wonders.
The madness that comes, when you know God,
Come back on a black horse, for the fire will chase all the others away.
Ride like the wind, knowing nothing at all….and living the Fire.
Beauty,
Donna Knutson
Above the ground after a brief silence
they resume their war
before they are even out of the graveyard,
climbing over each other
trying to save their own lives,
clawing at some unseen soil above them,
while beneath he rests in peace,
where, after all, we each long to be,
borne to our resting ground,
cherished and at peace,
soon and very soon.
Could I slip beneath the grass
of my battlefields and travel there?
Can I find a way to live
without that combat,
rest without that death,
to grant to the wicked
the eternal peace of the living?
God, bury me
beneath the feet of my anxieties.
Let them go on without me, arguing.
Let me be a ghost of grace,
untroubled, unbound,
interred in love.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
all day long
the music inside me
walks me through
every day the song-lists play
weaving themselves into the world
around my going
just yesterday
you created new symphonic occurrences
to be forever included
in my smile
my senses refined by the touch of you
the wind gently touching my face
with delicate fingers
my sweat soaked body
reminds me of that deep burning fire
life plays on and on
with me for this very moment
right here
right now
part of the harmony
a single black, dotted note
creating my little piece
of the grand composition
the masterpiece would be completely different
without me
without you
🎶
Amy Lloyd (AL)
One of the greatest mistakes we make in this life, I think, is losing hope when we don’t get what we want RIGHT AWAY. It takes time to do anything that matters—to change, to learn to love, to build a business or grow a child or grow into ourselves.
—
Sadly, too many of us (myself included) lose heart when we don’t see results RIGHT THIS MINUTE.
—
And when we lose hope, we lose everything.
—
Hope is not this fluffy thing we sometimes think it is. Hope is dangerous. It’s radical. When we hope, we take a tremendous risk, waiting and waking our hearts to something that we know full well may never come to fruition. There are no guarantees in this life. We do not have 100% control.
—
Hope hurts. If it doesn’t hurt, it isn’t hope.
—
And yet I am learning what it means to take LONG view. As I look back over the past 33 years of my life, I realize most of the things I have hoped for have taken DECADES to grow into themselves. It takes a LONG, LONG TIME for things to make sense.
—
Hope trusts the process—that even if we don’t get the thing we want right away, the story is not over. It’s not completely written.
—
Hope is steadfast and unwavering. It keeps going and gong and going.
—
Whatever you’re waiting for, hoping for, wishing for, don’t give up. Keep hoping. Most things don’t make sense until later. Hope is your lifeline. It is your only way home.
🏡
Allison Fallon
the Oracle of hope and happiness
writes in words you can understand
to fill your heart with the assurance
that the sun will rise again
the Oracle of hope and happiness
lives with the authority
of one who has been to the dark side
and returned, like the dove, with the news:
all is well
the Oracle of hope and happiness
speaks with wisdom
only words most needed
to guide you to the next step on your path
encouragement towards freedom
the Oracle of hope and happiness
delivers messages of love
from the Source of love
from the Voice of love
from the inside out
the Oracle of hope and happiness
gives everything away freely
nothing hidden that you seek
fruit easily picked
the Oracle of hope and happiness
wants to ease suffering
diffuse anger
inspire the work of ushering in joy and all good things
the Oracle of Hope and Happiness
knows for sure love is love is love
is love is love is love
is love is love is…
💞
Amy Lloyd (AL)
* thank you Steve, for naming me the Oracle of hope & happiness, I am honored by your naming
So I woke up and was going to do a post about grief and heartbreak…but then this came to me from Jen Lemen and changed my mind! Enjoy!!! More Soul Snacks could be on the way! You will get lots of crazy good stuff!!! Sign up now! xo
Music has been used for a variety of purposes, but many uses have been forgotten and lost. Work chants were used with sailors, field workers, slaves and soldiers to increase their productivity. Musical rhythms created patterns of organization and control movement – for an activity such as rowing a boat. It created unity and cooperation among workers. The musical rhythm set a work pace. It also helped people focus on the music and not the hard, and arduous work.
Some songs give people identity, like “our” song, and songs for a sports team or a group or nation. Jingles can persuade people to accept a certain point of view. Jingles are used extensively in China to promote political points of view and in advertising to encourage people to buy a product.
When ancient conquerors came into a new land, they quickly outlawed local music – as their music strengthened identity in a culture and its old ways. The Russians did this in Finland during World War II, outlawing the music, Finlandia, as it gave the local people courage and strength. Music has more power than we give it credit for.
Special uplifting music can change a person’s outlook, creating a window to heaven – a new way of feeling and thinking. Ancient people referred to music that altered and uplifted a person’s conscious as the “music of the spheres.”
Author Viola Pettit Neal, wrote about a novel use of music, “The conquest of evil will ultimately be accomplished by use of rituals of sound and form. For evil is that which is disharmonious and cannot exist in harmonious pattern of sound and form. The word ‘ritual’ in its true definition is an orderly movement of sound and geometrical form in sequential patterns.”[1] Neal suggests that harmonious music can overcome disharmony (evil). Many African tribes surround someone who has behaved badly, singing their name and song to them – reestablishing harmony. It makes sense that Osama bin Laden outlawed music for his followers. Guess it would be hard to prepare for a suicide bombing mission, when you were humming a breezy Beach Boys tune. Such harmony would make it near impossible to get people do heinous deeds.
Could we use music to change people that have done unscrupulous things? Why not use harmonic and healing music: In prisons, with children in trouble or business with poor reputations? Where negotiations are taking place? What about on a war front? How serious could people be about fighting, when everyone was singing Silent Night?
Research has shown that people easily believe others in a distant country are enemies – if they don’t know them. In contrast, if they know the people, they don’t want them to be hurt. What about sharing songs from countries to lesson international tension? If people like a country’s music, it will be harder to demonize their people – as the enemy. For example, racism against black people declined in the end of the last century, when young people loved black rap music.
The people of Estonia, a small Romanian country, had been slaves for thousands of years. As slaves, they were demoralized. When the abusive Czars were shot, the Estonians saw their chance for freedom, but had no courage to seize the opportunity. In a country of only a million people, half of them sang nonstop for a week. The energy created from singing – realigned their “will,” determination and spirit. They rose up and boldly gained their freedom.
Shortly after Hitler took control of Poland, Russia overpowered the Romanian countries. Under Stalin’s rule about a third of Estonians were randomly forced to work in Siberia. Most died. This practice terrorized the people. Later, Hitler as well as the Russians, enslaved Estonian men and forced them to fight against each other, with brothers killing brothers. Pain colored the Estonians with fear, shame, and horror; once again, breaking the spirit of the people.
After World War II, the Russian occupation created harsh conditions, little food, no jobs, no places to live, but plenty of fear. When the communist regime fell, the Estonian people found themselves again beaten down with no strength to gain their freedom.
Once again, the Estonian people came together with a song-festival for five days, with a half of million people attending. Afterwards, the Estonia people gained their freedom, crediting their courage to the energy created by singing. To this day the Estonian people hold a song-festival every five years.
Sound and music is chock full of hidden energy. Music is invisible, but its powers are greater than we ever dreamed of.
[1] Viola Pettit Neal, Through the Curtain, 1962.
by
Jill Mattson
jill@jillshealingmusic.com
like oceans, volcanoes, tsunamis and bees
I love you natural –
like seasons, rainbows, and falling leaves
I love you large –
like Grand Canyon’s,
the mountains and sky
I love you small –
like the atom, lady bugs, birds flying high
I love you tender –
like mamas with babies,
and soft, falling rain
I love you strong –
like soldiers with orders,
and wind on the plains
I love you like every cliche ever written
I love you with words that can never be spoken
I love you in mystery I can’t understand
when hearing your voice
or seeing your hands
I love you deeper than knowledge
and wider than life
You fill me with beauty,
I am music,
yes, music
you are my life
🎼
AL
photo sources at pinterest.com
On Dec 3, 2014 (2 year anniversary of my living death in the dark night of the soul, I got a post titled Love never Dies from Jen Lemen at Hopeful World http://hopefulworld.org
Here’s a taste of what it said:
I am struck also as I write to you from this wintery desk, that building our capacity for stillness helps so much when the wild comes to our restless souls. Without that practice of being quiet, it’s easy to be scared when our wild, instinctual thoughts pop up. It’s easy to think that they are bad somehow or in need of corralling. But the practice of quiet and stillness helps us recognize our instinctual knowing for what it is: a call to our most true nature. A call to a kind of expression that is more vibrant, more textured, more passionate, more alive–even if it’s a little bit messy. Even if it kicks up a little bit of shame that we are this human, this raw.
So I invite you today to sit with me for three magic minutes. I’ll be right here with you, my own mind a rollercoaster of crazy, of frantic, of nonsensical worrisome things. I’ll sit with you and notice everything in my own soul, while you notice everything in yours and together we will begin to knit together an understanding of what’s underneath that noise: a gorgeous, exquisite tapestry of human longing designed to carry us to an awake magnificent place.
Will you join me?
Setting the timer now.
Let me know how it is on the other side.
With so much love,
Jen
It’s now 3.5 years later and Jen Lemen is still bringing all that, and more to me, to you, to the shaky, hoping world, to the edges of eternity…love never dies.
Today, in this crazy, brutal brutal place, where we ask…
how can these two people be our Presidential choices?
how can people keep killing other people?
how can I deal with the grief and the fear of this?
how can I help?
what is the solution?
what is my part?
Jen Lemen is doing her part. She’s offering Soul Snacks –
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
Amazing gifts to all of of struggling, hungry, hurting, angry, frustrated pilgrims and poets.
Right now she has open enrollment and I have just this…
Don’t wait! http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
Gobble this up, savor it a bite at a time, eat them from start to finish, or nibble from the middle to each edge of crust. Savory, delectable soul-spices involving all your most subtle senses.
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
I
💞
Keep wrestling, burn, scream, let go, melt, let your heart keep breaking for the sake of your heart, keep saying the names of your people, fiercely defend your tenderness, think, grieve, repair, renew, continue to do what’s in your heart to do…each thread matters…each color makes the world more beautiful…
in the end, only love is eternal, only love remains…
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
🔥
AL
weaving through the tapestry,
the masterpiece is slowly
created.
Potential for beauty, we can’t know,
unfolding,
becoming,
revealing glory
so bright
it makes the sun squint
and reach for sunglasses.
Brilliance so far beyond ourselves
we go shining into the gray
as we open to the new jewels appearing,
sparkling in the moonlight.
As we step into the needle’s eye
the angels catch their breath,
cheering our blazing garments,
dazzled by the vision
God is revealing through the creation.
As we surrender to the greatest mystery,
the beauty we inhabit
becomes us,
walking in humble clay
eyes out shining the stars
set in the heavens.
Until we totally disappear and all that’s left
is holiness
so pure
all we can do
is
bow in wonder
at ourselves
and give thanks
as the silk thread
becomes liquid gold and silver
pure and simple
glory
as we realize our place in the whole.
We are the temple of our creator.
The home of God.
😎
AL
As deftly and finally as one pulls out a thread
someone is weaving them, gracefully tying them,
minute and irreversible.
In the towering sky, even under the fortress,
root tendrils muscle in and bind ligaments
through an abyss we had been told was absolute.
No enormity of terror
can keep up
with the steady, unseen healing.
Before the assault, the horrible wound,
gaping and exposed,
the stitching has already begun.
Even as we sigh in our own world,
moving on, separate,
we are being sewn in.
In the earthquake, the collapsing mountains,
not a bit of rubble falls
on the path from the temple.
If you could hold your immortal soul
in your hands, you would hardly recognize it
from one moment to the next.
Your grave is already empty.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
photo sources found at pinterest.com
Lying here quietly beside you,
My cheek against your firm, quiet thighs,
The calm music of Boccherini
Washing over us in the quiet,
As the sun leaves the housetops and goes
Out over the Pacific, quiet—
So quiet the sun moves beyond us,
So quiet as the sun always goes,
So quiet, our bodies, worn with the
Times and penances of love, our
Brains curled, quiet in their shells, dormant,
Our hearts slow, quiet, reliable
In their interlocked rhythms, the pulse
In your thigh caressing my cheek.
Quiet.
🎹
Quietly by Kenneth Rexrothg
🍅
when life gets hard
and love is dry
when hearts get hurt
and eyes just cry
there’s just one thing that’s left to try
pour some music on it
when times are tough
when money’s tight
you try to make it
with all your might
just one thing will make things right
pour some music on it
pour some music all around
on your head
on the ground
That’s the way that joy is found
just pour some music on it
when the night
is dark and grim
the day is gray
and hope is dim
Just wait for light, just fake a grin
and pour some music on it
pour some music all around
let it out
let it pound
Just pump it up, dance to that sound
just pour some music on it
are you tired, are you fat,
are you wearing thin?
just pour some music on it
are you happy, are you sad, are you wearing skin?
just pour some music in it
are you red, are you white, are you feeling blue?
just pour some music on it
are you old, are you young, are you feeling new
just pour some music on it
🎼
AL
we are waiting
for the perfect moment.
It must be
under all the struggle
we want to go on.
It must be,
that deep down,
we are creatures
getting ready
for when we are needed.
It must be that waiting
for the listening ear
or the appreciative word,
for the right
woman or the right man
or the right moment
just to ourselves,
we are getting ready
just to be ready
and nothing else.
Like this moment
just before the guests arrive
working
alone in the kitchen
sensing a deep
down symmetry
in every blessed thing.
The way
that everything
unbeknownst
to us
is preparing
to meet us too.
Just on the other
side of the door
someone
is about to knock
and our life
is just
about to change
and finally
after all these
years rehearsing,
behind
the curtain,
we might
just be
ready
to go on.
…
From ‘Waiting to Go On’ by David Whyte
not played,
is still a piano –
patiently waiting
the music lies quietly
still inside
ready
not going anywhere else
not making itself heard
not anxious
or demanding
all it takes is the right hand
to touch the keys
to fall in love
and the song begins
the strings within
warm to life
always ready to play
💞
AL
Setting priorities is a difficult process…
No, it’s not!
That’s just what I keep saying.
But, it’s really very simple –
Just this…
What is the most important thing(s) in my life?
How do I reorganize my life around
the most important thing(s)?
Am I willing to do the work focused on that/those?
Those questions are on me.
The answers are very clear,
very simple.
YES!
Ok, then…
Get busy
make your music happen
Focus
Work
Do it!
This is it!
Set your sites…
Now…
Go…
💃🏻
AL