Let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
– Kahlil Gibran
My language the size of a seed, small and frozen for a winters night…the sweet drain of being married to the fire side heat and slippers …
Honey drenched while walking towards the woods …
tender landscape of icicles frozen on glass…
a mirror wiped dry of reflection…
something pierced deep in the breast while creating less, and easing into body’s rhythm
the howl of the moon, the darkness too bright…
devoured by love…
seeking water but kept thirsty…
fabulous root in the deep of my core…a sigh left for longing…
Beauty,
Donna Knutson
Under the light of eternity things, the daily trivia, the daily frustrations, fall away. It is all a matter of getting to the center of the beam.
~ May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude
A sense of place results gradually and unconsciously from inhabiting a landscape over time, becoming familiar with its physical properties, accruing history within its confines.- Kent Rydon
Photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT
🌀
I have abandoned the dream kitchens for a low fire
and a prescriptive literature of the spirit;
a storm snores on the desolate sea.
The nearest shop is four miles away—
when I walk there through the shambles
of the morning for tea and firelighters
the mountain paces me in a snow-lit silence.
My days are spent in conversation
with deer and blackbirds;
at night fox and badger gather at my door.
I have stood for hours
watching a salmon doze in the tea-gold dark,
for months listening to the sob story
of a stone in the road, the best,
most monotonous sob story I have ever heard.
I am an expert on frost crystals
and the silence of crickets, a confidant
of the stinking shore, the stars in the mud—
there is an immanence in these things
which drives me, despite my scepticism,
almost to the point of speech,
like sunlight cleaving the lake mist at morning
or when tepid water
runs cold at last from the tap.
I have been working for years
on a four-line poem
about the life of a leaf;
I think it might come out right this winter.
🌀
The Mayo Tao by Derek Mahon
Curator’s note: “Mayo” refers to the County Mayo, in western Ireland.
Knowing it is the name the Beloved uses to call me.
😍
~Oriah House (c) 2015 My child, don’t be afraid. I am here. I know how hard it is to feel, sometimes. This moment, I know, is difficult to let yourself feel. Don’t hold back. Don’t protect yourself from feeling, your emotions this way and that. This is a gift from Me, the way your heart swings from high to low. I am the constant one. I keep you still.
There are things you will have to face now. I know you want to bury your head, and I let you do that, your head buried on my chest. But know when you lift your head, I will be there to help you to rise. And you will rise, and your feet will find firm footing, and you will square your shoulders and take one step forward, and then another, and you will find you know your way.
There is much ahead, and the path does not always seem clear. But I help you to rise. I go ahead, and I help you to rise. And when you stumble, I will help you to stand again. And when you are scared, I will firm your trembling lip and I will navigate you through the storm of emotions and I will quiet your quivering heart.
You are fierce and gentle. You are beautiful and strong. You are chosen and delighted in. You are all I’ve made you to be. I took everything from you that has kept you from rising. I have taken everything that makes you feel small and unsure and hesitant.
You can go forward, to the places I lead you. And you will know who you are. My child, the one who knows your Father, the one who knows your own name.
Healthy aggression has been given a bad name for far too long. I remember the day when it was acceptable to stand down those who behaved unjustly. Not in a way that was disproportionate to the crime, but in a way that met it right where it lived. This seems to have been lost in the last decades, both because of the softee toffee premature forgiveness movement and because of our growing awareness of the horrifying effects of unhealthy aggression. As a man, I have found this entirely confusing. Often I have stood down injustice with appropriate ferocity and been judged for it, as though I was the unjust one. I have some compassion for this interpretation, as I do recognize that it is difficult for many trauma survivors to not be triggered by aggression of any kind. But something is lost when we don’t make the distinction between the kinds of aggression that rectify wrongs, and those that perpetuate them. It is time to again raise healthy aggression to the rafters of acceptability. Sometimes its the truest path of all.
💪
– Jeff Brown
Change and growth are painful
not because we’re gaining,
but because we’re losing.
We lose old ideas.
Old habits. Old stories.
Old comforts.
We shed all that’s become
too heavy to carry onward,
wrapped too tight around skin
that needed to finally breathe.
A body that had to break loose
from the once present chapter.
Blank pages had been begging.
Ink aching to write
a new road and world.
A soul that could no longer deny
the taste of something else.
Something that felt true.
Something not yet seen.
We don’t have to see something
in order to believe.
💪
– an excerpt from Victoria Erickson’s fantastic new book- Edge of Wonder, available on Amazon
It is time to go deeper, to find your rudder
The unswerving truth of who you are
To keep you on track to your destiny.
Some tacking and jibing – yes
But with minor adjustments
On your way once more
Wind at your back to carry you
To ease your way
for a time.
The storms will come, for oceans will be oceans
Fear appears
Fear of being tossed about in the waves
Fear of not surviving rough seas
Fear is to be your teacher
Fear is to be your guide
Fear is to hold your hand as you look beyond the horizon
Of what you have always known
To the truth you can only know
Once you face fear
And see the love in its eyes.
A man asked him, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments…” He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.
Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the realm of God!” And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the realm of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” They were greatly astounded and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”
—Mark 10.17-27
💞
We continually have to resist the belief that there’s something we have to do to “be saved.” We think there are “good” people (the man thought Jesus was one) and others who are less so. We believe our salvation is up to us. Clearly the disciples think so. Were that true, of course it would be impossible. But it’s up to God. And God has already “saved” us.
Take note that Jesus looks at the man and loves him. The man does not need to do anything for Jesus to love him; he already does. He responds to the man not with requirements but with love. Because that’s his point. There is no requirement. God already loves us. We are already saved. There is no salvation beyond God’s love; God’s love is not insufficient for our eternal joy. All we need to be “saved” from is our own distrust. The man seems to have great possessions but “lacks one thing.” Jesus looks on him in his poverty and sets him free: let go of what you can measure and what you can lose—either riches or goodness—and grasp only what is infinite, what is already yours.
Meditate on this infinite love of God. It is yours, now. It surrounds you, fills you, gives you every breath. You can’t deserve it more or less. It is simply here. Even as you ask and wonder, maybe even doubt, God looks at you with love. God’s delight is not up to you. Let this light break in, and become you.
She has come to sense the inner world goes deep, indeed deeper than the wounds and breakages that others inflict. The contemplative has broken through to that sanctuary in the soul where love dwells. Crucial to this contemplative journey is the trust and imagination to realize that regardless of how you have been damaged, there is within you a sanctuary of deep love, trust and belonging. This is the ancient dream, the masterpiece of divine creativity: the creation of the human heart. Before time – back in the winter of nothingness and then all through the infinite springtime of evolution – the dream was the birth of an intimate well of kindness, care and love in the world, dwelling in the tabernacle of the human heart.
🔹
John O’Donohue
Excerpt from BEAUTY
dear lord in this time of darkness
help us see the darkness
dear lord help us to not pretend
no more pretending
dear lord may our gaze be defenseless
and unshardable
teach us the piety of the open eye
dear lord in this time of darkness
may we be unafraid to mourn and together and hugely
may dignity lose its scaffolding
faces crumble like bricks
dear lord let grief come to grief
and then o lord help us to see the bees yet in the lavender
the spokes of sunlight down through the oaks
and the sleep-opened face of the beloved
and the afternoon all around her
and her small freckled hands
🔹
Prayer by Teddy Macker
Hearts out searching for a home
that one place where we belong
it’s a cold dark night here lately
but I have seen the light
home is your arms
holding me tight
deeper and deeper into the beautiful
waking my heart to sing this song
fly with me as flames grow higher
passion flaming deep desire
touching us on this dark night
There are times when life goes hazy
that place we all fall down
life can be so hard my baby
will you hold the line tonight?
open up your heart and fight
we can do it together
life: acoustic & amplified 