the day ripples out

You perhaps at one time thought there was such a thing as Worldly Happiness to be arrived at, at certain periods of time marked out — you have of necessity from your disposition been thus led away — I scarcely remember counting upon any Happiness — I look not for it if it be not in the present hour — nothing startles me beyond the Moment. The setting sun will always set me to rights — or if a Sparrow come before my Window I take part in its existence and pick about the Gravel.

~John Keats

when the goodness flows from a place that requires no labeling…

inquiry for today~ can your bravest moment be about your own way toward sweetness…..

this point of never-neverland

Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror up

to where you’re bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look, and instead

here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.

If it were always a fist or always stretched open,

you’d be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small contracting

and expanding,

the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as bird wings.


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