the art of the quiet mind

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Sunlight streams down on the TV guide crossword

I fill in, even thought I don’t watch much TV,

so don’t know Matlock’s first name or

the number of seasons Studio One has aired.

My feet have chilled in their slipper socks;

I like the not yet thrill of completing small tasks

for a reward, as in: finish the puzzle before reheating

your coffee, soak your cup before going upstairs.

You call me to the front room to show off the couch:

spray-foamed and scrubbed, it’s white again after years

of lolling heads and popcorn, the bit-by-bit grime

of a family relaxing from- well, just living, just life.

We made these environments we cling to-

unlike the lion who accepts the zebra as meat,

or the zebra who understands he’s meat

just as much or as little as he understands

the grasses he hides in or the sky’s sickening lurch

when death comes. Does he fear it? You betcha.

Maybe he thinks about death all the time, too,

but I doubt it. We’re the species wired for that,

and our only comfort’s the world we’ve built

to fuss over, the props and affections

we mourn all the time we have them, practicing.

Biology is the way, Pearl. That’s the easy one.

~Rita Dove

when heart and mind are full, we realize the extraordinary and surprising ways of our days….

inquiry for today~   how does empathy play into all that you notice? into the deeper crevices of the mundane and the ordinary moments?

bombarded with what-ifs

Watching a spider at work

I vow with all beings

to cherish the web of the universe:

touch one point and everything moves.

~Robert Aitken Roshi

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