life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

morning messages

I walked out my door in the early morning mist and caught a fox walking past. She stopped and made eye contact for a long (eternal) minute.

The solution to a problem is at hand. The Fox spirit is the grand problem solver. She will guide you to solitude and silence until the way out is shown. A healthy combination of persistence and patience will strike a balance that picks apart a problem until it is solved.

Fox Symbolism

The symbolic meanings associated with the fox are:

• Physical or mental responsiveness, increased awareness

• Cunning; seeing through deception; call to be discerning

• Ability to find your way around, to be swift in tricky situations

• Affinity with nocturnal activities and dream work

Fox Symbolism & Meaning. The phrase, “cunning like a fox” came about for good reasons. … Fox wants you to get past illusions, adapt to your discovery and see things clearly before moving forward any further.

http://www.spirit-animals.com

Feeling special…💞 🦊

get real

Abandon the illusion you’re a self-contained individual.

Be a part of this wounded world,
and find yourself with Christ.

Set aside your own desires,
give yourself fully for others;
be the hands and heart of Jesus.

Renounce self-protection,
accept your brokenness,
and reach out for love.

Let go of your own plans.
Join in the healing of the world.
You will not be alone.

Follow your soul, not your ego.
Follow it right into people’s suffering.
Follow it right into the heart of God.

Pour yourself out;
let the world pour in;
then you are one with the Beloved.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net

Sometimes, if we can be very still, eyes wide open, silencing the inner commentary for just one moment, we might see somethings we’re missing.

Like the crazy beauty and unbelievable resilience of human beings,

The resurrection of the sun each morning,

How even those we oppose- those with “positions” different than our own- love their children.

Oh, I’m not hoping or wishing for endless harmony. I never really was a Kum ba ya girl.

But, I try not to protect my heart by pretending the children who are dying in the war in Syria, and schools in America, and the young indigenous man shot on a farm here in Canada are not all “our” children.

And what would we not do to protect our children?

There are times to stand up and shout, and times to be quiet and listen deeply. Of course I’ve sometimes gotten that wrong- had something to say when I needed to listen; hesitated to speak up when something needed to be said, or shouted, or sung by a solitary voice or in unison by thousands.

At night as I drift into sleep something touches me- a larger Presence, the Beloved, the God whose Love I have known since always- and I know that in some way, deep at the core of Life, everything is and will be okay.

Knowing this, I can see without fear that here and now, in this shared world, there are things that are not okay, things that sacrifice children, things that we must change.

Decades of experience has eroded my certainty that I have the solutions, but deepened my conviction that we can find a way forward together.

– Oriah

The glorification of busy will destroy us. Without space for healing, without time for reflection, without an opportunity to surrender, we risk a complete disconnect from the authentic self. We burn out on the fuels of willfulness, and eventually cannot find our way back to center. And when we lose contact with our core, we are ripe for the picking by the unconscious media and other market forces. After all, consumerism preys on the uncentered. The farther we are from our intuitive knowing, the more easily manipulated we are. The more likely we are to make decisions and affix to goals that don’t serve our healing and transformation. To combat this, we have to form the conscious intention to prioritize our inner life. To notice our breath, our bodies, our feelings. To step back from the fires of overwhelm and remember ourselves. It may feel counter-intuitive in a culture that is speed-addicted, but the slower we move, the faster we return home.

⁃ Jeff Brown

Can I tell you something?

Im finding a battlecry uncurling within my stomach

it’s been waiting to get its chance to speak for over 50 years

the pressure I’ve put on my tongue has created diamonds

the seagulls understand me

they’re not afraid of that hard pounding surf

they delight in sea-spray-spittle on they’re faces

changing winds ruffling they’re polka dot tail feathers

why are kids killing kids?

let’s stop these stupid raw arguments

the ones that deflect responsibility to someone else

let’s look for the roots of this horror

in our own reflections

in our minds eye

in our most intimate of idols

in our illusions of love

in our addiction to our personal brokenness

let’s do something different

let’s sit in silence

and chill the hell out before our next inciting Facebook post

Just stop. Hard stop.

rest for a full minute.

God is here. Now. Repent (aka: turn around).

Be the change. Yes, Let your life be continually changed by goodness. Stop glorifying busyness. Decide.

Turn off your tv. No more 24 hr news. Smile at that weird teenager with the baggy pants down the street. Say hello to your neighbors. Show everyone you meet your baseball card collection. Tell them about your dreams of flying a kite Expect miracles to fall like rain. Spend your money to help someone – even if you don’t think they deserve it. Make art. Sing at the top of your lungs. Show unconditional love to someone with no desire for anything in return. Be personal. Allow yourself to fail often. look past your own neediness and fill a real need.

Let go of your stubborn opinions

Learn something good from everyone you meet.

Keep calm and carry on.

That is all.

❤️

Amy Lloyd

make room for the sacred

Mark Nepo tells us to,

‘put down what doesn’t work –

so that we can find what is sacred’.

🎈

What worked so well yesterday,

may not work today.

We wear out our structures of known truth,

the frameworks of what we use for living,

for healing.

Let them go,

trust in the new architecture –

modern,

with our personal, classic twist.

We are always becoming.

The seasons gracefully change every year

the same

yet not.

Watch for the signs of structural failure,

for the daffodils blooming bright

against the dreary brown world

build a new bridge,

delight in this magnificent design,

in the dots of brilliant color

those amazing cranes hanging in and over the water

strong, foundational columns

green stalks alive with promise

rising from deep within the waters,

creating the new skyline of your dreamscape

the new landscape of your best-to-come life

welcome this new place of crossing

the early soft fuzz of new growth on the earth beneath your feet

It can handle rush hour

or the heaviest foot-traffic

the ground will always hold our weight

Continue

the bold build

the celebration of every sign of spring

always awake to the possibilities of this very moment

remember to trust your intuition

remove what is not working

water things well and often

before the old fully implodes

before the grass turns an ugly shade of brown

right underneath our feet

❤️

Amy Lloyd

I am struck by the otherness of things rather than their same-

ness. The way a tiny pile of snow perches in the crook of a

branch in the tall pine, away by itself, high enough not to be

noticed by people, out of reach of stray dogs. It leans against

the scaly pine bark, busy at some existence that does not

need me.

It is the differences of objects that I love, that lift me toward

the rest of the universe, that amaze me. That each thing on

earth has its own soul, its own life, that each tree, each clod is

filled with the mud of its own star. I watch where I step and see

that the fallen leaf, old broken grass, an icy stone are placed in

exactly the right spot on the earth, carefully, royalty in their

own country.

❤️

Looking for the Differences by Tom Hennen

February on another coast is April

here. Astrology is months:

you are February, or are you

June, and who is

December? Who is books

read in spring, wingspan

between midnight

and mourning

Another starry tree, coastal

counterpoint where magnolia is

a brighter season

peach and pear

are grafted onto the same tree

fear and fat stick

to the same sprained bone

For this adolescent reprise

recycle everything trivial

but this time bring

the eye into sight:

make sight superior

to what is seen

A decade is to look at June

and see April

to look at April

and see February

Relief of repetition

seasons mean again,

one flowering branch suspended

in the half-light of spring

We sat on steps

beneath a tree

No: I walked by

The tree bloomed

and I looked up

❤️

Virginia Street by Jennifer Hayashida

wonder

You only owe love a chance to grow

– rumi

into deep waters

some days there are no poems

made of words

just the sight of Poseidon

filling my mind

my eyes

my soul

from the ground

from the sand

through the fog

it is enough

poems come in many fine forms

today’s is an extraordinarily well written one

❤️

Amy Lloyd

backwards & forwards

Library of Celsus in Ephesus

via: http://bit.ly/2mDRAzM

When the sooty corners of our dark night

absorb into porcelain skin at last

leaving it a whole new shade of refined

When the geese in their skeined wedge take another enchanted voyage across the endless blue

When we wake up to this new day

loving life in spite of all that has gone before

When the one who loves us allows us joy in our exile

until we are ready to break our silent bread

When we allow the challenging heaviness of our limiting beliefs to enter into our arena wrestling until we have achieved Olympic gold

When we trust the great freedom of what has brought us to this very moment

When the wine of our heart

in it’s purest burgundy of bubbling merry or deepest sorrow

pours clear and jeweled in its crushing

When we give away freely our best crimson to everyone we meet at this royal wedding

When we finally recognize the truth that there is no journey of arriving

there is simply life

this grandest celebration of skin touching skin

the sharing of moments

the wonder of storytelling

the ancient ancestral linage of our tree-relations

the wonder of teaching and tasting and exploring

coffee and kisses and learning any odd/old/new thing with the ones you love

then we have arrived at our true work

the why we have sought so desperately to uncover for so long

lying crumpled and useless in the trash can

as we, a bit drunk, on our own exquisite vintage

make love to the world in blissful ecstasy

shhhh…there are new songs playing

listen…

just listen…

to Dark Star…live

In this world…

a new dead-head is born

I’m so glad there is you

🎷

Amy Lloyd

what a difference a day makes

I

In the evening, love returns,

Like a wand’rer ’cross the sea;

In the evening, love returns

With a violet for me;

In the evening, life’s a song,

And the fields are full of green;

All the stars are golden crowns,

And the eye of God is keen.

II

In the evening, sorrow dies

With the setting of the sun;

In the evening, joy begins,

When the course of mirth is done;

In the evening, kisses sweet

Droop upon the passion vine;

In the evening comes your voice:

“I am yours, and you are mine.”

💞

In the Evening by Fenton Johnson

Tomorrow I get a window

to sleep beside

a whiff of fresh air

blowing curtains

a square of rounded sunlight

to begin my days

Tomorrow I get a path

to the ocean

a few steps away

seagulls and surf

a whole bunch of sand

to lighten my way

Tomorrow I get a place

for this moment

a family to help

a new one to assist

friends to be made

a new place to stay

Tomorrow I take a step

into my own life

a way to begin

it’s really a start

just one tiny step forward

from these feet made of clay

❤️

Amy Lloyd

THE GEOGRAPHY OF DESTINY

Many different strands of your past experience begin to weave together until gradually the new direction announces itself. Its voice is sure with the inevitability of the truth. When your life-decisions emerge in this way from the matrix of your experience, they warrant your trust and commitment. When you can choose in this way, you move gracefully within the deeper rhythm of your soul. The geography of your destiny is always clearer to the eye of your soul than to the intentions and needs of your surface mind.

John O’Donohue

Excerpt from ETERNAL ECHOES

The clouds keep finding their way into the shape of hearts

Oh, those beauteous clouds, in that soul aching cinema-sky

I feast, like the country girl I am

morning and evening I offer my prayers as easy breath

I walk as gift in gift

I cleanse

I clear

I gather

I call

I calm

I glow

I glitter

I shine

I commemorate

I celebrate

I light fires

I hallelujah all over my day

I let go of the old

as I enter full into new territory

I sing it over and over,

It’s good to be alive

right about now (uh huh)

💞

Amy Lloyd

 

 

Insecurity wants us to keep track of our failures; grace doesn’t even write them down.

– Bob Goff

embrace your inner goddess 😉

I turned my head (10 years later)

the day after you lose someone is often the hardest day…

you wake up thinking they are in their bedroom,

sleeping on their pillow,

or safe in their crib,

that surely they are going to pop open the bedroom door and say,

” Hey mom…”

the numb has set in,

the prayers are bleeding through your body…

reality is somewhere ” out there” in another time and place…

God walks up and down the hallways by your side…

Surely it is safe to leave the planet for the next few weeks

while you sort out

fumble through

forget about,

walk up and down the grocery aisles,

filter through the rage…

review the rules of compassion…

write the 10 Commandments down on paper…

though you know them by heart

sing songs in your car as you head to the hospital

to visit a good friend struggling through another day of chemo…

push the button on the CD player to number 5

” Somebody prayed for me,

they had me on their minds…

they took the time to pray for me…

I’m so very glad,

I’m so very glad,

I’m so very glad

they prayed for me.”

( Sweet Honey in the Rock)

my internal overload button on high

memories pushing the pain trauma

my thoughts turning to the notebooks filled with

wisdom and relaxation rituals…

There was a before…

and there is always an after…

There is always a “getting through”

and a substance to hold onto…

I call that substance God…

All the children of the world

are each of ours…

they may not have names we know

but they do indeed have hearts the same as our children,

those we love and adore…they too are our own flesh and blood…

Yesterday, we lost 17 more of our children…

we gave them over without even knowing when we woke up

in the morning,

we thought it was an ordinary day…

Trauma is often difficult to sort out…

there are stages and warnings

there is loneliness and rage…

Don’t be alone,

sit with a friend,

cry your tears…

drink lots of water…

watch your body for signs of ” too much”

find a road that leads you nowhere and walk it..

swim in a pool,

water is soothing to the broken heart.

Hold yourself gently and with compassion..

Beauty,

Rev. Donna Knutson

what are you willing to suffer for?

https://youtu.be/EYrTqBioaZ4

Passion literally means to suffer. Love is always simply choosing: Who am I willing to suffer for?

Real love always really leads to death — death of self and death of the loved one — and then real love always goes on forever and ever without end.

– Ann Voskamp

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