Every Day Zen
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life. Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore, Now I will you to be a bold swimmer, Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself," Section 46 Walt Whitman comes to mind more these days than he did during... Continue Reading →
“Pause and Repeat” posts signal a break in blogging for me. Each time, the break is of its own specifics but mostly, it is just a pause, a moment away. The repeat is always a favorite previous post, this time, a Mary Oliver moment. Roses Everyone now and again wonders about those questions that have... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, Mary Oliver posted a bit of her poem, ” Mockingbirds,” on Facebook. The Atlantic featured it on April 30 as the poem of the day but as Oliver pointed out, a poem can be the poem of the day on any day. Indeed. This morning two mockingbirds in the green field were spinning and tossing... Continue Reading →
On so many days, the journey daunts. It’s the obstacle. It’s the path. It’s both. You choose the order, if that's a must for you. Some days I stagger but I also admit to a bit of swagger. Those days cost me more, ultimately. This day, the journey is loud with "voices I leave behind." I... Continue Reading →
Nothing grounds me like a poem. Nothing. It brings me to life right where I am. Crossing the gulf of today’s #DailyDose is not a task too tall. It is paw by paw focus. as the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right forefoot carefully then the hind stepped down into the... Continue Reading →
It may be that when we no longer know what to do we have come to our real work and that when we no longer know which way to go we have begun our real journey. Wendell Berry, Standing by Words When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at... Continue Reading →
If equanimity opens me to the colors of the day, mindfulness provides the canvas. These are my daily tools, and I keep them close. If I do not, ego will send me in search of something so promising that to escape the day seems my only choice. As well, I am provided 1001 reasons why... Continue Reading →
Sometimes, I leave too much unwritten but then, there are those times I “run aground” a metaphor. My writing lies somewhere between poetry and prose, falling short of either. Yet, it reflects the way I live now, a place in between. Yesterday’s post mentions an acceptance of nothingness, as if there were no fear attached. In... Continue Reading →
Things to Think Think in ways you've never thought before. If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message Larger than anything you've ever heard, Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats. Think that someone may bring a bear to your door, Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose Has risen... Continue Reading →
