Category Archives: Beauty

the reenchantment of the hubris in complacency

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walking deeper into....

Enchantment is both the capacity of the world to charm us & the spell that comes upon us when we open ourselves to the magic in everyday experiences. An enchanted world is alive & rich in personality. It reveals itself to us in its beauty & poetic presence. Both the realm of nature & the world of things have their magic that can stun us & ultimately make life feel worth living……Thomas Moore

this is the space of deep intuition….the land of charm….the heart of life’s gifts… finding our own way is the way of the wild soul, weaving the ups & down into a beauteous wrap….useful on dark & stormy nights…..

the core of our enchantment is longing….for the sacred…using compassion & courage as guides….climbing….is the path soft or rocky today?

the stars hold no memory…only bliss….

Reenchantment means stepping beyond the modern traditions of mechanism, positivism, empiricism, rationalism, materialism, secularism & scientism- the whole objectifying consciousness of Enlightenment- in a way that allows for a return of soul. Reenchantment implies a release from the affliction of nihilism, ’our culture’s cancer of the spirit.’ We move toward a new pragmatic idealism & a more integrated value system that brings head & heart together in an ethic of care, as part of the healing of the world….Suzi Gablik

the deeper cry for wholeness….

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water & wood

Floral muscle,

Little by little open

Morning meadow’s anemone

Til in her lap

The polyphonous light

Of sounding skies

Radiates.

In the quiet blossom’s star, flexed,

Muscle of infinite receptivity

Often so overwhelmed with fullness

That the sunset’s call to rest

Can hardly return to you

The wide-relaxed petals:

You, the firmness & fortitude

Of many worlds.

We are violent

And stay around longer

But when, in which of all our lives,

will we finally open up

and become receptive?

….Rilke

this secret that our heart whispers to us now & again….whispering sweet nothings about what lies beyond us….whispering a calling beyond the self-possession….beyond imagination….

this secret is about ‘abandonment to the nature of things’….released into the celestial life….a transcendency of our rollicking tides into something wild….our own blooming summers…fully anticipated & realized….

This is the ongoing purpose of full attention: to find a thousand ways to be pierced into wholeness…Mark Nepo

  within the cloud of unknowing…

The Zen experience is more of a conclusion than a premise. It is never to be used as the first step in a line of metaphysical reasoning, since conclusions draw to it rather than from it. Like the Beatific Vision of Christianity, it is a ‘which than which there is not whicher’- the true end of man- not a thing to be used for some other end. Like the Curucifixion, it is to the Jews a stumblingblock & the Greeks foolishness. To say that ‘everything is the Tao’ almost gets the point, but just at the moment of getting it, the words crumble into nonsense. For we are here at a limit at which words break down because they always imply a meaning beyond themselves- & here there is no meaning beyond…..Alan Watts

lean into the wind…listen to the vastness…

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we are all nomads in prayer

Poise

A small flower growing out of a stone quivers high above the worn paths. Its fragrance drifts down shore where a young woman is contemplating suicide, & something in the hint of flower lifts her depressed head for a moment, but the fragrance dissipates, & she sinks again, staring at the waves, wondering why. The scent is picked up by a gull, matted in its feathers. It makes the gull fly wildly through the only cloud, through the white center of nothing. An old man in a fishing boat is stunned by the swift charge of the gull into open sky. He relaxes his net, & underneath the shadow of the boat, the tangled angelfish squirm free….Mark Nepo

feel the unseeable connections…

our shared suffering allows us to feel compassion….made even more gentle & poignant when the fragile bits sprout from the rock….when the hardened heart softens….when we are humbled by our small world….

In the web of life, you see the tentativeness of physical incarnation in this world. You come to realize the essential, ephemeral, & ungraspable experience. This letting go opens you to a profound & deep trust in the way things are. The river of life & its impermanence makes us see vastness. No moment can ever be repeated, & every moment is always new & then quickly replaced. We find our composure when we realize the ‘everlasting truth of everything changes.’  Life is precious & beautiful & unfathomable……Jack Kornfield

the inexhaustible & tender remedy…

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serendiptiy's shrine on fire....ie...faith in the present moment...

To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else…  Emily Dickinson

to heal & to be healed… 

You don’t ‘do’ presence- you ’are’ presence. Being present is not a complicated matter- all you do is wake up. Including being awake to yourself. You give yourself fully to the present instant, letting go of what was, & choosing not to anticipate what will be. This is healing presence. It is an art, affirming others potential for wholeness. We bring our uniqueness, our depth, & our fullness to this creative undertaking. It is a powerful gift……..James Miller

pausing in our self-defined sacred space opens possibilities of healing….reaffriming our own authenticity aside from our everyday identity brings a new depth to what we bring to others’….like the art of listening….but from the heart…

the deep & sensitive person knows what beautifully limited creatures we are…..& still moves forward with outstretched hands….offering gifts of an ancient code…

We carry whole worlds within us as we brush by each other in supermarkets to read mayonnaise jars. Discovering who we are is like breaking a trail up the side of a mountain. Yet the deepest friendships begin when we look into the eye of another & discover that they have been there too. Only by daring to know ourselves can we deeply know others…… Mark Nepo

revisiting love….cracking open the heart….

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the sweeping magnanimity of Buddha nature

On the spiritual path, there’s nothing to get, & everything to get rid of. Obviously, the first thing to let go of is trying to “get” love, & instead to give it. That’s the secret of the spiritual path. One has to give oneself wholeheartedly. If we want to be loved, we are looking for a support system. If we want to love, we are looking for spiritual growth. Love is the warmth of the heart, the connectedness, the protection, the caring, the concern, the embrace that comes from acceptance & understanding for oneself. Having practiced that, we are in a much better position to practice love toward others. We realize they are just as unlovable as we are, & they have just as many unwholesome thoughts. But that doesn’t matter. We are not judge & jury. When we relate to other people, we can let them just be & love them……Ayya Khema

there’s no hiding from an open heart….it radiates out….everyone can sense it…..feel it…benefit from it…..we love ourselves, then we share that love…..

this isn’t trite, banal, idealistic, or childish…this is truth, hard work….& profoundly elusive….

get addicted to big love….

Hemingway got it right when he said that “love is the wanting to do things for.” Can I surrender to what is? This question allows us to do the one thing that can help free us from the domination of our fears: that is,  to welcome them in & actually feel them. As we become more inwardly free from our our fears, the love & connection that are possible in  relationships tend to flow through us more naturally. As our defenses  are lowered, our heart opens, & there is a natural desire to give from  the generosity of the heart. We discover that genuine happiness in relationships is not a product of having our expectations met or getting  what we want but rather it is the consequence of freely giving in order to bring happiness to another…..Ezra Bayda

Easter dawn & an idyllic code of compassion

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bunnies & dye & love...

Whether you go to sunrise service today or not, may your heart & soul be strong, passionate & filled with hope….live well & give kindness like candy…

As a result of practicing compassion, we will start to have a deeper understanding of the roots of suffering. We will wish that not only the outer manifestations of suffering will decrease but also that all of us could stop acting & thinking in ways that escalate ignorance & confusion. We remember that when we harden our heart against anyone, we hurt ourselves. We are deeply connected….Pema Chodron

Today is a lovely day to stretch our hearts…to practice being in our ‘soft spot’ in our kinship with others….not hooked on fear, judgment & doubt….live your faith….

see in the clouds….faith’s reflection & a daydream for peace….

Religions are the conduits for their unique expression of faith. Competition & intolerance are likely to creep in when the contemplative dimension has slipped out of the mainstream of a religion & the belief system assumes a disproportionate importance. Faith is active in love. We meditate to grow in faith. We meditate to arrive at continuous prayer where we remain at home in the place of union while keeping our feet on the ground. The goal of faith is communion. Then the prayer of Jesus for all humanity makes sense: ‘May they be one as we are one. As You, Father, are in me & I in you, may they be in us.’….Laurence Freeman

the portal to soul….the jolt of springtime….

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Set down the baggage, take off the blinders.

See for yourself

This very place is the valley of the Endless Spring.

This very body is the body of the universe.

….John Daido Loori

everything is particularly alive today….like any day with a crisp edge & a hungry heart….a visceral affirmation of being home on this earth…open to the full experience of life….self-deception set aside momentarily…sensitive & tender to the nuances of sky & bark & trail….

the cat follows the sunny patches around the house…he’s so warm….

White Flowers

Last night

in the fields

I lay down in the darkness

 to think about death,

but instead I fell asleep,

as if in a vast & sloping room

filled with those white flowers

that open all spring,

sticky & untidy,

in the warm fields.

When I woke

the morning light was just slipping

in front of the stars,

& I was covered

with blossoms.

I don’t know

how it happened-

I don’t know

if my body went diving down

under the sugary vines

in some sleep-sharpened affinity

with the depths, or whether

that green energy

rose like a wave

& curled over me, claiming me

in its husky arms.

I pushed them away, but I didn’t rise.

Never in my life had I felt so plush,

or so slippery,

or so resplendently empty.

Never in my life

had I felt myself so near

that porous line

where my own body was done with

& the roots & the stems & the flowers

began.

….Mary Oliver

may the luscious thirst of soul hunger lead you home, too….

it’s just the sweetest day…

 

the serenity of the unambitious life

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a simple life

When I detect a beauty in any of the recesses of nature, I am reminded by the serene & retired spirit in which it requires to be contemplated, of the inexpressible privacy of life- how silent & unambitious it is. The beauty there in the mosses will have to be considered from the holiest, quietest nook…. My truest, serenest moments are too still for emotion; they have woolen feet. In all our lives we live under the hill, & if we are not gone we live there still…

……..Henry David Thoreau

drunk on heavy, sweet & green air….luscious, ripe, full of temptation to loosen more & more…to relent to the pull of the silent edge….’come in to know me,’ the mirrored water whispers….

from one extreme of perfect stillness to the most raucous roar of the canyon, mountain, river, trail…..no difference….the call is the call…the silence remains in the soul of the healing….run & be still…the catapulted stillness of knowing where you are….

I looked up & saw Japhy running down the mountain in huge twenty-foot leaps, running, leaping, landing with a great drive of his booted heels, bouncing five feet or so, running, then taking another long crazy yelling yodelaying sail down the sides of the world & in that flash I realized ‘it’s impossible to fall off mountains you fool’ & with a yodel of my own I suddenly got up & began running down the mountain after him doing exactly the same huge leaps, the same fantastic runs & jumps, & in the space of about five minutes I’d guess Japhy Ryder & I (in my sneakers, driving the heels of my sneakers right into sand, rock, boulders, I didn’t care any more I was so anxious to get down out of there) came leaping & yelling like mountain goats or I’d say like Chinese lunatics of a thousand years ago…

…Jack Kerouac

simple pleasures…

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the miracle of your shoes connecting heart to soul

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walking with insipid light

Walking meditation brings teachings into awarenss. Every step we take, Buddha’s reverent hand on the earth. Every step a breath dying into the next one’s birth. Every step the present moment, fully claimed & peacefully expressed. The calculating mind dissolves, the running ceases, and Mara,  the embodiment of desire-driven life, is defeated. Walking is a process in which an entire ecology  participates, not something ‘I’ do. Another layer of ego softened; a bit more recognition of the reality that Thich Nhat Hanh calls, so beautifully, Interbeing.

you are feet on earth, sky & tree, skin on bone on grass in fog…

walking meditation is one of the most beautiful, ancient & relevant teachings…so useful to our overloaded lives…no matter what is embodied in the day to day….putting one foot in front of the other releases…no where else are we right where we are….an absolute beginning point every time…no more conquering the world….wooing it….

meditation in action….disengaging the fragmented internal mind…kissing it softly….instead of pounding it into submission….remembering you are here to breathe..

you are hands in pockets & body in coat, head in clouds & heart in wind…

a seeker in the absolute, a wanderer on the path…always leading home….

While crossing the bridge, walking, up in the sun-speckled wood, meditation becomes a different thing. Without any wish & search, without any complaint of the brain, there was unenforced silence; the little birds were chirping & the breeze was playing with the leaves & there was silence. It was not the silence within an enclosure, within the limits of thought  & so recognized as stillness.  Seeing without thought, without the word, without the response of memory, is wholly different  from seeing with thought & feeling. Seeing a cloud over a mountain, without thought & its responses, is the miracle of the new; it’s not ‘beautiful,’ it’s explosive in its immensity; it is something that has never been & never will be. It is the totality of life & not the fragment of all thought…..Krishnamurti

walking through fog…

 

the heart ripped out into blue wonderment

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holiness in a daydream

The Rose Window

In there: the lazy pacing of their paws

creates a stillness that’s almost dizzying;

and as one of the cats then suddenly

takes the gaze that watches it carelessly

and snatches it into its own great eye,-

and that gaze, as if caught in a whirlpool’s

circle, for a little while stays afloat

and then goes under and is lost to oblivion,

when this eye, which apparently rests,

opens and slams shut with a roaring

and yanks it all the way inside the blood-

thus in olden times out of the darkness

the cathedrals’ great rose windows

would seize hearts and drag them in to God.

…..Rilke

this excavation of our bones is like…..

holing up in a cozy cafe with all of the little lovelies that make you feel safe… a cup o’ joe or tea, your favorite shoes, a great pen & crisp journal & few crayons & charcoal, a rough wood grained table with little blue flowers, a polished stone in your pocket, Rilke & Dylan Thomas & a stack of Parabola magazines, music carried in from the warm & sunny streets…nothing you’d really listen to, but right now it’s like angels singing….

working on a poem & a sketch & remembering another sunny day like this a million years ago & you smile just a little at a cynicism that faded somewhere & the little blue flowers would have been plucked & in your hair in a minute back then, but now it’s enough to be in this moment & not create the moment….

you write about it….then color it blue…how the moment is seized into something greater than you…a boundary crossed into the blue flowers, the blue day, the blue souls all around, your blue heart that is yanked like Rilke’s angels into an intangible sanctuary of perfect openness….& the angels just keep singing….

may the excavation of your bones turn your world to blue….

we tether our own boundaries sometimes…