slipping under the strange light of fog

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Leaning on words

Without a word

A white plum tree’s blossomed.

….Muso Soseki

when we feel under, under night, under veiled nuance, under the belly of life, under the fog of knowing, under the spell of illusion, under the heavy heart……yes, when…..no answers reveal….we sit quietly and wait, for we know not what, but we wait with quiet breath and hold shadowed, sacred space…..

We can’t access the great body by looking for it, because it is not separate from is. Nothing is. The heart of our practice is attentiveness and loving action. This happens within our own bodies and also in everything we do. This is as much a personal practice as it is a cultural form of awakening. We need practice to catch the shadows of practice. When we touch the place of stillness that occurs before our world begins, we can gain a kind of clarity that’s not possible when we are caught in old patterns of thinking and movement that we have inherited and continue to reinforce. Practice makes life fresh…….Michael Stone

waiting for snow

5 am in the pinewoods

I’d seen

their hoofprints in the deep

needles and knew

they ended the long night

under the pines, walking

like two mute

and beautiful women toward

the deeper woods, so I

got up in the dark and

went there. They came

slowly down the hill

and looked at me sitting under

the blue trees, shyly

they stepped

closer and stared

from under their thick lashes and even

nibbled some damp

tassels of weeds. This

is not a poem about a dream,

though it could be.

This is a poem about the world

that is ours, or could be.

Finally

one of them- I swear it!-

would have come to my arms.

But the other

stamped sharp hoof in the

pine needles like

the tap of sanity,

and they went off together through

the trees. When I woke

I was alone,

I was thinking:

so this is how you swim inward,

so this is how you flow outward,

so this is how you pray.

…..Mary Oliver

2 thoughts on “slipping under the strange light of fog

  1. I am reminded of a documentary I saw last year regarding Elk in a remote part of Wyoming. At one point, a female became injured (it was almost more than I could bear) and there was no doubt about what was coming. The photographers watched as a pack of wolves made their way closer and closer to her as night fell against day. They knew what morning would prove, and yet, they were wrong. Morning came, and the elk was still alive. Standing between her and the wolves was another female elk. The team was amazed for they had never seen such a display in nature (outside the pack mentality associated with coyote and wolves). Each time the wolves approached, she charged until they gave up. Beneath the things we know lies a universe of things we never imagined (and yet, they are)……… ~ Love this, Blue. ~ Ever, Bobbie

    • I love the deep spirit of this story…..like something beyond nature was happening….something dark and soulful….when we catch the eye of a wild animal we know we have knelt before an archetypal revelation…..thank you for sharing the love of wild mysteries with me Bobbie….

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