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Posts Tagged ‘Wisdom’

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This poem is one of my personal favorites that I’ve written. I wrote it after having gone in and through a particularly difficult time. It continues to bring me solace today.

past the borders of happiness and unhappiness
a rim of fire oaks bid me on the blue horizon

smooth hand like leaves held me there
while the first hard rain fell

I kneeled and leaned into the heady fragrance
of an ancient wisdom revealed
beneath the old rough timber

it spoke of the delicate balance in being
at once firmly rooted while gently yielding
whenever the fall winds swept through

I heard of the necessity of winter’s annual arrival
for stillness is the silent cathedral of the earth

I learned that what drops away gives rise to rich black loam
so that nothing that is cherished ever perishes

listening intently now, the old knowing timber whispered
how it never seeks to contain what cuts deep

no, you give it up to the low slung clouds overhead
to be carried on the wings of the air

©heartsdeesire

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fear8454306326_d943005bf9_zBlessings Day 304: I met with my fear counsel/council this morning. We decided to let myself have two specific fears before breakfast today. Meaning give it a soft space of acknowledgment, don’t push it away.

Then again before breakfast, I met further with my fear counsel/council – the wise elders who know a thing or two about fear. The counsel I received was to take action on three things. I did. Then finally I had breakfast!

It wasn’t so scary after all, it was pretty clean cut and meeting one of those fears gave me so much encouragement about next steps. Thank you fear council, I couldn’t have done this without you today.

If I ignore that fear, it’s still in the driver’s seat, it’s got me by the proverbial balls anyway. I can say yes to fear, let it have its say, and it has a lot to teach me about who I am being in the world at the deepest levels and even more, how I can lean into it, instead of running from it.

“All any feeling wants is to be welcomed with tenderness. It wants room to unfold. It wants to relax and tell it’s story.” From Women, Food, and God by Geneen Roth.

 

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Go Your Way

Mooji_biography

Now that you have learnt
what cannot be taught,
go your way

Now that you have seen
what cannot be shown,
go your way.

Now that you have discovered
that which was not hidden,
go your way.

Now that we are united in
what is inseparable,
go your way.

Now that you have returned to
where you have never left,
go your way.

Now that you know That
which has no path,

go your own way.

~Mooji~
Writing on Water

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Heavy Rain

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High winds do not blow all morning;
Heavy rain does not fall all day,
Are not these made by heaven and earth?
If the power of heaven and earth
Cannot make violent activity last,
How can you?

~Tao Te Ching~
the Te of Piglet

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“And for this year, my wish for each of us is small and very simple.

And it’s this:

I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.

So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you’re scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever.” ~Neil Gaiman

Are you all in with life?  You see, the only thing that really stops us from taking risks, being all in, and making mistakes, is fear.  But did you know underneath that cloak of fear, is you?  It’s your courage, it’s your trust, your insight, your wisdom, and your dreams.  It’s the well you draw from, the will to overcome your greatest fears.  All those resources are there for us to tap into, just below that layer of fear.   Beyond the field of your greatest fears lies a vital, grounded, pulsing life force.  That is who you really are!

“There’s a moment when fear and dreams must collide.  Someone I am is waiting for courage.  The one I will become, will catch me.  So let me fall, I will dance so freely, holding onto no one.  You can hold me only, if you too will fall…away from all these useless fears and chains.”  Cirque du Soleil lyrics to Let Me Fall

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Our nearly three month old puppy, Nanuk, passed suddenly this weekend.  You see him below in a picture taken last week.

There are many wonderful pet loss poems out there but none seemed to contain the language for what my heart wants to say.  So I decided to re-post this poem I wrote a few years ago, to remind me of two things: nothing that is cherished ever truly perishes and Nanuk is in the heavens now, carried on the wings of the air.

past the borders of happiness and unhappiness
a rim of fire oaks bid me on the blue horizon 

smooth hand like leaves held me there
while the first hard rain fell

I kneeled and leaned into the heady fragrance
of an ancient wisdom revealed
beneath the old rough timber

it spoke of the delicate balance in being
at once firmly rooted while gently yielding
whenever the fall winds swept through

I heard of the necessity of winter’s annual arrival
for stillness is the silent cathedral of the earth

I learned that what drops away gives rise to rich black loam
so that nothing that is cherished ever perishes

listening intently now, the old knowing timber whispered
how it never seeks to contain what cuts deep

no, you give it up to the low slung clouds overhead
to be carried on the wings of the air

©heartsdeesire

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Revering the Trees

 

For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.  ~Herman Hesse

My thanks to Amy Callan at Spirit Within Art for sharing this quote with me.

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