happy never-forgetting-this-beauteous-life

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Life is too complex to be understood. As toddlers, we frolic in a world of questions, content unfolding into the mystery. By adolescence, we compulsively attach worded concepts to everything we see, even people — for instance, ‘popular kid’. Though labels can be useful, they often discourage us from engaging with the world in front of us. By adulthood, we have saran-wrapped our surroundings in concepts — sterilized life’s wonder with worded explanations.

We not only conceptualize the objects around us, we obsessively try and ‘define’ ourselves. We expend a huge amount of energy threading certain events into a storyline of ‘who we are’ — an inaccurate label that we feel lost without. This self-protecting narrative is never satisfactory. In Greek mythology, Sisyphus was forced to roll a massive boulder up a steep hill. Before reaching the top, the boulder would slip from his grasp and slide back down, forcing him to begin again. In our pursuit of self-definition, we feel compelled to hoist our ‘story lines’ onto a pedestal……Evan Okun

carry on……..forget the hill……carry on like it’s all a midnight stroll……may the exhilaration of celebrating this remembrance of beginning again be a moonlit kiss, a sweet night of anticipating the dawn of all that is new…….may we know the sweet dawn of another day…

I’d like to remember the smell of early mornings; get up before the sun and be the first Eve who’s ever walked on Earth. Does anybody know what dew is? I’d like to be a cat when I stretch, feel my cells multiply as I reach the other side of a yawn; decaffeinate my heartbeats, green up my tea, unblock my creative aorta, juice out my imagination. And question everything, the how, the what, the why behind the why, this curious human condition. I’d like to get up once a week with no other agenda than laziness in bed, no time, no musts or shoulds or have tos. Eat breakfast for dinner, juice for lunch, and talk to trees, and cry, walk backwards, love my solitude, and understand my doing by undoing. I’d like to be art, not make it, be home, not build it, be life, not live it. Become the outer layer of my own aliveness. I’d like to believe that we’re not just numbers plus minutes plus blood plus agony, but human issues, crazy planets, the universe brushing its hair; and like all great short stories, we sound familiar, but haven’t really happened any place or time before. I’d like to love and lose and love again, and lose and love and lose again, because what else is there to do? I’d like to take naps, lots of naps, and in that deep, redeeming sleep, rewrite the past and future into Now. And write with no fingers on that flickering life that passes as we write, incessantly, about how life is passing through our fingers…..Andrea Balt

marking time……

May all beings realize their essence as loving awareness.
May all beings live their lives from this awakened heart.
May all beings be happy.
May all beings touch great, natural peace.
May there be peace on earth, peace everywhere.
May all beings awaken and be free.

My prayer is that we trust the beauty of our hearts and awareness.

Holding hands, may we help to bring healing and freedom to our world.

….Tara Brach

5 thoughts on “happy never-forgetting-this-beauteous-life

  1. …….that we might fully understand the light of the moon we have passed, throwing silver soft shadows around us, upon the day ahead……… Let us lean into the moment of forever, safe within the embrace of all we’ve known and loved. ~ Happy New Year! Bobbie

    • new moon caresses filled with promises….rising, celebrating, healing, never running from despair, honoring those old scars…..word of the year? mine is service, especially ripe with the betwixting moon & dark night……love to you Bobbie, my friend……

  2. Wishing you a Happy New Year and many more to come within moments of Yet to Be
    Take Care…You Matter…

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