Father Sky came down to kiss Mother Earth this morning
Reassured by the sacred union,
the hard worry in my heart softened.
The affection walked beside me around the field.
I let it inside.
Opened wide and deep,
my lungs embraced the cool moist air.
Momentarily I held its love,
Then gradually I released it to the life around me.
Going, going, gone.
Ushered in on Spring’s promise
humanities aesthetic rebirth is coming.
I hear the pant of deliverance.
carries a soul
through heavy fear
and thick uncertainty.
Pushes us through deep blackness.
The rite of passage has arrived.
Tolerances fully dilated.
Anxiously waiting to hear the wail
from our infant humanness.
All the world rejoices!
Wrapped in the World’s love
Compassion forgives the sin
Reach out your arms
Visit the prayer you prayed.
Love and be loved.
We journey toward no end.
It’s coming — again.
cradle of life
forever and ever live
voice of Spirit
quiet the mind’s tongue
touch our attention
so we hear your counsel
warm distant souls
turn their faces
towards the light
Mother that carries life
all we need to live
know your thoughts
close the wounds
help us remember
how to be a good relative
An empty kindling bucket lead to a lesson in mindfulness this morning. It didn’t take long to remember how attentive and alert you have to be when your splitting kindling with a hand ax. I never lost awareness of where my fingers were or the steadiness of the piece of wood that the ax was about to come down on. After filling two kindling buckets I was darn near a Buddhist monk!
It only takes a few minutes of mindful motion to feel a peaceful energetic recharge. Not only does it balance the mind and body but it can make you more aware of when you are becoming imbalanced.
An empty life can fill with meaning as painlessly as two kindling buckets with a mindful practice. Maybe it’s time to ask yourself like the wonderful children’s book, “Have you filled your bucket today?”
You don’t live life standing still. Witness its sacred motion and it won’t pass you by.
As I walked toward the frosty field the crisp freshness of a mid-November morning burst open inside me. The moist air’s sweetness so thick I could taste it on the way in and out. I momentarily felt suspended in the energetic exchange. I felt the breath give me life.
Every breath we take has that sacred feeling within it. We simply aren’t aware of it. Isn’t it ironic that we were created to not give a thought about breathing but that we can’t go without a thought until we think about it?
With the next breath the feeling of aliveness was gone. I tried to get it back but my mind got in the way of my mindfulness. What to do but walk on and as Mary Oliver wrote, “Breathe it all in and love it all out.”
My thoughts wondered, perhaps this breath of air once crossed the sea or through the needle of a White Pine tree and now me. The wind on its timeless travel through the eons carries with it the gift of sacred motion and change. Each breath an invitation to the Spirits of the elements to re-establish a relationship with our soul center. To remember the earth and the stars lives in us. To remember life can change in an instant.
Created within our breath is the sacred space between being and becoming. Honor this place of wisdom by following the feeling of breathing. Breath your Spirit into the world. Let the wind of the soul travel through the Universe. Be inhaled by the cosmic lungs and exhaled into the Great Mystery. You are the breath of life
Rainy fall Saturdays put me in the mood to bake. It’s the rest year for our apple orchard but hidden among the Wolf River and Cortland branches I managed to find a five-gallon pail full. Enough for a batch or two of applesauce and a family favorite, Apple Cinnamon Cake. I don’t know of anyone whose dull spirit isn’t polished to a shine when the scent of apple and cinnamon greets them at the door of home. Perfect choice for the mood my relative, Weather, is in.
While the apple cake was baking, I decided to string up the onions I had laid out on the dining room table to dry for a few days now. I hang the onion string in my kitchen. Easy access and I think they are pretty.
I struggled with tying them at first. But then I began to tie them like my prayer ties. A loop knot slipped over each dried tip. Each onion is now a prayer for our family; good health and well-being, peace, joy, laughter, abundance, good relationships. I’ll probably wonder which prayer the onion I’m using is and cry while I’m wondering. The purest form of prayer is crying.
As I stood back to admire the onion prayer tie’s prettiness a teaching came. I’m going to have to use whatever onion is at the end of the string. No picking through them. Just like life you have to take it as it comes. One onion at a time. Layer by layer.
On a recent day trip to Door County with my family I found a heart stone along the path we hiked. My daughter Sophie found one a little further down the trail. Seeing a heart shape in anything sends an immediate surge of love through me. Love is a universal language all of creation speaks.
Caressing those two heart shaped stones in my pocket made me stop and think about all the experiences, people and beliefs that have shaped my life. Some were wild scribbles. Others intrigue beautiful designs. None of which can be erased. The shape of my life effects everything around me. Whether that’s positive or negative is up to me.
As Sophie heads off to college I know the shape her life takes is in her heart. She just needs to follow it.
I see past your words
I feel what you are saying
Shape words into love