Nothing is separate.
All things are true. The wind through
the Spanish Moss tells me that this has
always been. I must keep my heart open
long enough for all things to mix until
the alchemy of Oneness softens my time
on Earth. If you take my hand when I’m
like this, we will know each other in a
way that will never leave us. Dipping
our face in each other’s heart, as we
would a stream we come upon deep
in the woods- this makes the tribe
strong. Enough to build something
out of nothing. Enough to love
what- is back into just what it is.
chop down the trees and step lightly where what once was is now gone……know it for its shifting view, its sentimental haze and its old stuffy shadows……then celebrate its memory……live, reborn…..
this, the 5 year history of this daily blog is a reminder to shift and grow and change……another new blog is coming soon…..
When you appreciate yourself, you realize that you don’t have to feel wretched or condemned. You don’t have to artificially puff yourself up, either. You discover your basic dignity, which comes along with gentleness. You have always possessed this, but you may never have recognized it before. You don’t have to be a egomaniac to appreciate yourself. In fact, you appreciate yourself more when you are free of the ugliness of that egotism, which is actually based on self-hatred. Look in the mirror. Appreciate yourself. You look beautiful in a simple, humble way. When you choose your clothes, when you comb your hair, when you take a shower, you are expressing an element of complete and fundamental goodness, wakefulness, and decency. There is an alternative to feeling condemned. You actually can make friends with yourself. ~Chogyam Trungpa
spoke to me
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That’s what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain –
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.~Mary Oliver