Why all the threadbare drama,
the stale catastrophism
of calling it broken?
It still beats,
     doesn’t it,
still trembles at the sight
of fog flowing through the forest
like a slow dance song.
It was only
     dislocated,
lost its locus
for a while,
popped out of the socket
of good sense.
There is no one
to pick up the pieces
     because there are no pieces.
Only the firm, fastidious
hand of time
to slide it back
     into place.

And after all
who can fault
the wayward compass
when the magnetic north pole
is in constant motion
drifting by fifty kilometers a year
and reversing itself altogether
every few centuries
while each twenty-six thousand years
a different north star
comes to shine its guiding light
above all the confusion.

We are here
to lose our way.

~Maria Popova

when I bow to mystery…

inquiry for today~ may your heart soften again….

finders keepers…

Everywhere we learn that love is important, and yet we are bombarded by its failure.

This bleak picture in no way alters the nature of our longing. We still hope that love will prevail.

We still believe in love’s promise… Our hope lies in the reality that so many of us continue to believe in love’s power.

We believe it is important to know love. We believe it is important to search for love’s truths.

To open our hearts more fully to love’s power and grace we must dare

to acknowledge how little we know of love in both theory and practice.

To know love we have to tell the truth to ourselves and to others.

Commitment to truth telling lays the groundwork

for the openness and honesty that is the heartbeat of love, awakening.

All awakening to love is spiritual awakening.

~Bell Hooks