Out of this darkness a new world can arise. Even though we cannot see clearly how it’s going to turn out, we are still called to let the future into our imagination. We will never be able to build what we have not first cherished in our hearts. We can sense how intimately and inextricably we are related to all that is. We can taste our own power to change, and feel the texture of our living connections with past and future generations, and with our brother and sister species. For individuals this shift to seeing with new eyes arrives in different ways at different times. You can’t force it to happen, but it will come naturally as a result of doing the work of gratitude practices, honoring our pain, and experience our interconnectedness with the world…..Joanna Macy & Sam Mowe

we must walk slowly and kindly without rushing, without harsh judgment…..minding our fears and doubts……then the water becomes still and our reflection is serene and still…..

At times when the mind is focused, an emotional attitude of mindful equanimity arises. In these cases the awareness feels soft, tranquil, trusting, and gentle, and at the same time light, agile, alert, capable, and clear. Evenly “poised in the middle” (a translation of the wonderful word ‘tatramajjhattata) between attraction and aversion, it is able to regard anything under its view with profound equanimity, neither favoring nor opposing what is happening in the moment. With mindfulness thus established, the mind is capable of gaining insight and can begin to see things as they actually are…….Andrew Olendzki

the art of perception

The reason we bother

to get up in the morning

is because of everything;

is because there is another arithmetic

without internal sense

and we ache at the borders;

is because the grey music

of the first chickadee before dawn

in the hemlocks

is the grinding engines of the humpyard

carried on morning air;

is because we are afraid

and know everyone is afraid

and do not know

who will soothe our tears

nor how many tears

we will hold unshed.

You seem to be you

and I seem to be me.

My sorrows are no greater

than your sorrows.

Thou are beautiful,

o my loves,

as tears are.

…..Terrance Keenan