Saturday, December 31, 2016

Seeking buoyancy

My wish for the coming year is this: 
that whatever weather may arise I will not be blown off-course, 
but continue to rise above the storm; 
to float, serene, untroubled, dancing lightly on the waves of change,
buoyed by faith and anchored in eternal oneness.

Friday, December 30, 2016

The circle of unknowing

Step into the circle of unknowing
And find the golden light that blooms within.

Thursday, December 29, 2016

The wound in all those shoulds

How many of your thoughts are judgments?
I love this, and I hate that. That was right but this is wrong.
I'm such a loser, or I so won that round...
Dividing the world into yes and no,
we lose all the possibilities of maybe.
Maybe is the crack, the wound in all those shoulds,
the place where we begin to open, 
where the light of hope shines through.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Grounded in love

Our resistance is less effective when fueled
by division, fear, or anger.
Our actions are most successful
when grounded in unity, compassion, and love.

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Listen to the mountains

Listen to the mountains: 
make time today to rest and breathe;
allow the pressure of the holidays 
to dissolve into a mist of memories.

Monday, December 26, 2016

Your unique contributions

The movements, the riffs, the phrases and strokes, 
the colors that come most easily -- these are the artist's gifts; 
the dancer, writer, or composer's trademark gestures,
the ones that make work fun, yet uniquely ours.
Don't edit them out or put them down: 
rejoice in your own unique originality!

Sunday, December 25, 2016

A Christmas Wish: for Enlightenment


And so today, as, like the wise men, we find our way to hope, 
and, bearing our gifts, we set them forth before the world
to honor the birth and promise of new life,
my wish becomes that all may be enlightened;
that those who are governed by fear, greed, and distrust
may discover anew the beauty and goodness 
of all that is created, and move to honor and protect
this fragile earth, our island home:
to tend the sick and feed the hungry,
to give rest to the weary and soothe the suffering, 
to pity the afflicted and shield the joyous
and all for the sake of Love.

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Christmas Wish #10: Playfulness

My wish today is for all who feel 
oppressed by the burdens of the world; 
for all whose responsibilities weigh them down;
for all whose inventiveness and creativity 
seem to have gone into hibernation,
that they may find -- if only for a moment -- 
a renewed sense of playfulness, a lightening of spirit, 
a moment of joy or an unexpected smile to ease their hearts.

Friday, December 23, 2016

Christmas Wish #9: Justice

My deepest wish this morning is for justice:
not a justice that is judging -- one is right, or one is wrong --
but a justice that is rooted in acceptance 
of diversity, of the value of every living thing;
a justice that travels away from either/or and into AND.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Christmas Wish #8: Persistence

Today I pray that I may have persistence:
that whatever challenges I may face,
I honor my commitments and show up for my appointed rounds;
that no adverse conditions will prohibit me
from doing the work that I was created to perform.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Christmas Wish #7: Confidence

My wish for today is for confidence:
that we may learn to trust 
that whatever's happening is what's supposed to happen;
that whatever burdens we carry, we have the strength to carry;
that whatever is required of us, we will have the courage,
the endurance, and ingenuity required to bring it to fruition.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Christmas Wish #6: Hope

For all who feel they've lost their sense of purpose;
for all who worry that everything they've fought for is now gone;
for all who live in deep despair, discouraged,
I wish for renewed hope; that they may hear again
the call to courage, and drum up
the energy to march again in faith.

Monday, December 19, 2016

Christmas Wish #5: Silence

My wish today is for silence;
for a moment or two of absolute quiet
away from the cacophony without and within:
a moment to rest, and just be.

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Christmas Wish #4: Community

My wish today is for community:
that those who have it 
may treasure and cultivate it,
and that all who long for it may find it.

Saturday, December 17, 2016

Christmas Wishes #3: Freedom

I wish today for all who feel imprisoned --
by circumstance or fear, addiction or convention --
to find their way to freedom and release.

Friday, December 16, 2016

Christmas Wishes #2: Peace

A wish for all of us, awash in holiday preparations,
that for just a bit, sometime today, we could escape the shoulds
and curl up like a cat in a patch of rainbow-scented sunlight...

Thursday, December 15, 2016

Christmas wishes: #1: Safe Harbor

A wish for all who are forced to leave their homes,
that they may find a safe and peaceful harbor.

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Never alone

However isolated we may be, 
we're never truly alone;
we have the grasses, trees, and sky to comfort us.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

First world problems

I am, today, this bleak horizon: distant, unreachable,
longing for the warmth and touch of a rising or setting sun,
unaware -- and unappreciative -- 
of the luxury of the waves lapping at my toes,
the gulls that pepper the salt-scented air,
the sweet blue oneness of it all...

Monday, December 12, 2016

When disappointment wails


Take this sense of raging disappointment: set it down, 
hold its hand, and let it tell you how it feels.
Let it wail; let the echoes of the anguish and betrayals of its youth
resound in the caverns of your heart,
and let it weep until its tears are spent and gone.
Now carry it, quite tenderly, to some safe and quiet place
and let it rest, rocking gently in the cradle of the stars.

Sunday, December 11, 2016

Beyond iconic moments

Just as there are iconic shots, 
there are iconic moments in our lives;
those times when everything is perfectly aligned
to put us on the path to new adventures.
But what about those other times,
when every move we make encounters obstacles? What then?
Somehow we learn to trust that standing still
can yield as much -- or more -- growth as moving forward.

Saturday, December 10, 2016

Show us the glory in the grey

I've been reading Listening for the Heartbeat of God, a book on Celtic Spirituality by Philip Newell, and in it I found a wonderful prayer from a Scottish minister named George MacLeod:

Almighty God,
Sun behind all suns,
Soul behind all souls,
show to us in everything we touch
and in everyone we meet
the continued assurance of thy presence round us, 
lest ever we should think thee absent.
In all created things thou art there.
In every friend we have
the sunshine of thy presence is shown forth.
In every enemy that seems to cross our path,
thou art there within the cloud to challenge us to love.
Show to us the glory in the grey.
Awake for us thy presence in the very storm.
till all our joys are seen as thee
and all our trivial tasks emerge as priestly sacraments
in the universal temple of thy love.

... a lovely prayer, I think, to hold close to our hearts this Christmas season...

But for my facebook post today, because I keep those carefully free of references to God and Christ, I'll write instead this other thought, paraphrased from the Buddhist teacher, Adyashanti:

Think on it: all the harm we do
comes from believing what's not true.

... and lest these two thoughts seem unconnected to you, let me point out that the truth MacLeod's prayer points to is that God (or spirit, if you prefer that language) resides in all things, all events, all people.  The harm we do -- any of us -- is when we forget that's true.

Friday, December 9, 2016

Sheltered in the heart of being

Whatever storms assail us,
grant us the strength and trust to find
the warm and loving shelter that always resides
deep within the heart of being.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

What is holy?

Who am I to say what's true,
and what is holy? All I know is this:
these leaves, once green and beautiful,
are yellow now, and fading fast,
and yet this plant still thrives and will return.

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

The wonderland of now

Let silence fall upon my thoughts like snow,
blurring -- or erasing -- all distinctions,
making mind's familiar paths far too slippery to travel.
Let me drop into the whiteness, 
and make angels in the wonderland of Now.

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

A quiet place

Find me a quiet place to sit,
where I can feel in tune with things that grow,
and close my eyes -- if only for a moment --
to all the worries and injustices that haunt me...

Monday, December 5, 2016

Cold adventures

Yes, it's cold, and the weather is uncertain.
That doesn't mean you should forgo adventures.
This could be the perfect time to leave familiar harbors;
to venture out in search of something new.

Sunday, December 4, 2016


I built the cage myself --
the one that keeps my soul from dancing free --
and lined it with projections of another's expectations.
When will I find a way 
-- the courage, strength, or passion --
to part the bars?

Saturday, December 3, 2016

A longing for eternity

The task of the artist is twofold:
with our hands, we give form to the formless,
and with our hearts we give voice
to the universal longing for eternity.

Friday, December 2, 2016

We close our eyes

We humans are designed to be reflective:
to see or read another's pain
and feel its echoes in our souls,
awakening old wounds.
And so, to protect our hearts,
we close our eyes...

Thursday, December 1, 2016

The gym floor of my mind

I try to clear the dance floor of my thoughts,
to keep its surface shiny and reflective,
but still, instead of sitting on the sidelines,
they leap from their chairs like randy teens
and rush into the center to twist and shout,
leaving dark marks with their inappropriate shoes.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

The choice to sit or move

Which will you choose today? 
Whether you sit and listen to the birds, 
or move along the path from shadows into sun, 
I wish you peace.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Floating in acquiescence

Take us to the place where fear subsides;
where we no longer try to win approval
for our thoughts, our gifts, our looks,
but rest instead in buoyancy,
afloat in acquiescence with what is.

Monday, November 28, 2016

A message of hope

I never know where paintings come from until they arrive; it always amazes me when I realize how they've been affected by what I see, read, or hear.

I was puzzling over this one this morning, and finally tracked it down to an article in the New Yorker about freezing gunshot victims to keep them from losing blood. I hadn't even read the article; I'd only seen the headline.  But clearly it took root somewhere inside me and gave birth to this painting.

But why?  What does it have to teach me? I read this morning that goodness is a creative force, and evil a destructive one.  So perhaps I'm thinking goodness has to go into hibernation to survive, to keep from hemorrhaging? I'd hate to think that's true.  But I'm seeing three blocks of warmth -- or are they wounds? -- in an ice cave. So I'm thinking it's a new version of my recent posts about the trees, which lose their leaves in a flare of color, knowing they'll return again in spring; that the painting says that goodness and sanity aren't dead, but going through a natural hibernation, and will emerge again, renewed, when the new season rolls around.

Which explains why the colors are so rich: it's really a message of hope. Who knew I still had it in me? And how will I turn so complex a thought into a brief poem for Facebook?

Sunday, November 27, 2016

On the dark journey

Though we find ourselves moving through the desert
with no clear path or shelter, and storm clouds gathering ahead, 
we can't give up. Keep trudging on and try to feel 
the ground beneath your feet -- but watch for snakes.

Saturday, November 26, 2016

In praise of flexibility

When your inner critic glares at you,
or mocks your inability to cope with confrontation,
look beyond him to the branches of the trees:
though swaying with the wind, they stay rooted and grounded:
flexible yet firm, providing shelter in the summer
and shedding their assumptions to bring light 
throughout the winter.

Friday, November 25, 2016

A new gratitude

Thanksgiving is traditionally an opportunity to focus on all the blessings in our lives, but I have to confess that was a bit of a challenge this year. It's not that I don't see the blessings, it's just that there's a lot of darkness looming in the world right now and it's hard to see beyond it to whatever light awaits.

So I'm doubly grateful that -- in light of my husband's pain and our unreliable oven -- we kept Thanksgiving simple this year. It was a first, I think: no guests, no friends, no family but our own and even that reduced to one daughter, as the other's on the other coast, visiting with friends close to her job.

The food, provided by the clever chef at a local convenience store and heated in our microwave, was utterly delicious, but the conversation -- ah, the conversation...

I've been so sad, that all our work to make the world a better place seems to have come to naught.  But now, looking through my daughter's eyes, I realize my vision's been short-sighted; that in fact the work we did has had its desired effect, and there is hope -- it's just not quite how we visualized the end result.

I wish I could have recorded her exact words, but I'll do my best to paraphrase them here. She believes our greatest accomplishments have been to raise a whole generation with egalitarian values; that what we said as parents, and what we insisted should be taught in schools, has left an indelible mark upon the souls of the future. She believes that mark, coupled with our incredible advances in technology, which make it possible for people to speak out, for information to be shared and connections to be made, are what have allowed us to see more clearly the ugliness in the world; the ugliness that for so long lay hidden beneath a surface of lying words and covert actions.

In essence, she believes it wasn't our generation's job to fix things, but rather to expose them, and we've actually accomplished that, and now can pass the torch to her generation to take whatever steps come next.  Utopia, the new consciousness, the Age of Aquarius, may not have arrived in my lifetime, but I can at least know we helped to lay important groundwork for the future yet to come.

Which doesn't mean our work is done, but still it gives me hope to think the world that lies ahead of her may not be quite so dark; that around this narrow bend in time there may be the light we dreamed of; that just because, like the Israelites in the desert, we may not see that promised land, that doesn't mean it's not waiting for our children to explore.

To summarize -- which I needed to do for the facebook version of this blog --

I've been so sad, that all our work
to make the world a better place
seems to have come to naught.
But, looking through my children's eyes,
I now see the foundations
that we've laid for them have every hope
of carrying us through this dark and narrow place
into great light. I may not live to see the Promised Land,
but now believe again it lies ahead, 
and for that revelation I'm truly thankful.

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Practicing Gratitude

It's never silly to practice a little gratitude...
Happy Thanksgiving to All!

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Harvest time


The time has come to harvest what we sowed:
will it nurture us? Will we turn these pumpkins into pies,
or admire them briefly, then let them turn to rot?

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Trust, and follow

Though I may not know where this dark path leads,
and the way ahead grows grim and tangled,
I can see that others have paved the way,
and so I will trust, and follow.

Monday, November 21, 2016

Lessons, but no caroling

Okay. I know you may not agree with me on this.  But I've been doing an awful lot of thinking lately, about the mess our country has gotten itself into.  (Don't worry, I'm not going to launch into a political diatribe; you find enough of that on the news and on Facebook.)

Now, granted, I'm a little doom-and-gloomish these days: my husband's been laid up with back pain, so I'm looking at the world through darker glasses than usual. But the truth is, lots of people have things a LOT worse than we do -- which, of course, is part of the reason the country is in such a mess right now.

But, I'll be honest, when the columnist on Bill Moyers says America will never be the same again, I suspect he's right. We won't.  Even my husband, who is normally the most positive optimistic person I know, has said it: people are gonna die over this. Now granted, he's in pain, and a little more negative than usual, but it's clear a lot of repressed anger has finally been given permission to explode out there, and it's getting ugly. We're already hearing the stories.

I saw it today, and not just on the news: I went to the local shopping mall hoping to replace some broken glasses. It was a busy day, the Sunday before Thanksgiving. The stores are getting all decked out for Christmas, people are planning their Thanksgiving dinners and starting to work through their Christmas lists, but it ... didn't feel festive out there. 

The people who work in the stores, and at McDonald's (yes, I broke down and got a Big Mac; a really good sign of my state of mind) were really unusually friendly and nice.  But the shoppers -- now, granted, this is not my neighborhood; I have to get off the island to go to a mall -- weren't doing eye contact. There was none of the usual camaraderie, and the stores --even packed with people -- were unusually quiet, except for the occasional whining child. It was eerie. I don't think people feel safe anymore.  I found myself thinking about each person I saw.  Were they frightened? Were they angry? Were they wary, or suspicious?  Itching for a fight? Feeling justified? I couldn't really tell -- and I certainly wasn't going to ask.

But again: this is not a political diatribe.  I just keep trying to figure out how we got here.

I mean -- I know the liberals like to point fingers at Reagan and some of the policies he instituted, and the conservatives think the problem is the liberal agenda and the folks who tried to stuff that agenda down the throats of ... well, everyone.

But my husband's last job -- before he got laid off, and before he started learning to drive a school bus -- was doing something called "root cause analysis." When things went wrong, he was the one who did the research to figure out why.  And that's something we have in common: curiosity. We both want to know why.  So I keep pondering -- where did all this come from?

And where I am now (though who knows where I'll be tomorrow) is back to my Biblical roots.  I may not be attending church anymore, but I'm thinking at least some of the answer is right there in First Timothy. Though I'm not a big fan of the King James Version I think it states the problem beautifully: “For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.”

It's not money, it's the love of money.  And who doesn't love money? It buys stuff -- and who hasn't been guilty of wanting more -- or better -- stuff? The problem is that when we let that hunger for more drive us, we go off the path and suffering becomes inevitable.  We think having more will make life better, but, really, it doesn't.  We weren't told to love money; we were told to love our neighbors as ourselves. Any other choice is going to bring sorrow.

So let's look at this.  I mean -- when you look at the people who voted for our president-elect, do they look happy? I don't think so.  I think they voted out of misery.  We know that. But does our fabulously wealthy president-elect look happy?  Does his wife -- who's not gonna live with him for the next four years? Do his children? Do his cabinet members? Does ANYONE look happy these days?  I don't think so.  

But instead of throwing stones at the rich, I think we all need to look in the mirror. Because we've all contributed to the problem. Did ANY of us take all we had and give it to the poor?  Most of us gave something, if we could, if we had anything left over. But weren't we still looking for deals, for groupons, for a free lunch, for free service? Did we stop to think about the chef who stood on her feet all day to make us that low-cost meal, then had to pay her waiters and dishwashers and busboys, not to mention the doctor bills for her orthotics and knee replacements? Did the folks who bought and sold all those subprime mortgages in the early 2000's stop to realize the impact of all those empty purchases? Did the folks who bought those houses wonder if maybe they wouldn't be able to afford them?

I think we all got hooked (okay, maybe I'm just speaking for myself, but I don't think so) on the idea of more, and better, and cheaper. We want stuff, we buy stuff, and we don't think about the costs that trickle down from that; the American jobs lost to the cheap labor abroad that makes our purchases less expensive so we can buy more; the local jobs lost because it's easier to shop online and have cheap stuff delivered to your door.

But there's more to it than greed: here's the other part of the problem.  I think we also got hooked on the idea that saying something was true would make it true. I'm not just talking about the fact that we threw out our encyclopedias and started getting all our info from Facebook and the media; started choosing our news sources and then believing everything we heard.  (Though I do remember being horrified when the librarian who came after me tossed out our Encyclopedia "because they can find all the answers on the internet.")

I'm also talking about all the ways we enforced politically correct language.  Originally I think we hoped that removing the ugly words and the misogynist language would help people to think in new ways.  But somehow that morphed into thinking that when the words were gone the thoughts would disappear as well -- and clearly THAT didn't happen.

Thoughts -- as any good Buddhist will tell you -- have a mind of their own, and over time we humans become quite accustomed to assuming that whatever we think must be true. And sadly, there just aren't enough of us -- any more than there ever were enough of us -- who are willing to look below the thoughts to find what truth might lie beneath that constant barrage of thoughts; to listen beneath all that for what's really driving our thoughts; and to listen even deeper for the universal truth, the divine spark planted in each of us that connects us all.

And the boomers? My generation? We thought we were ushering in an age of enlightened consciousness, the Age of Aquarius, and we fought all those battles and marched all those marches and enforced all those laws thinking we could finally get those egalitarian values to triumph and in one fell swoop, one day, that illusion is gone, gone, gone, really gone. 

And we only have ourselves to blame.  Because we got so caught up in that growth thing -- I mean, growing our way of life is good, right? -- that we never stopped to listen.  It's kinda the same mistake we make in prayer.  We're so busy pushing our personal agenda we forget to listen to what God's calling us to do. It's the mistake America made when we tried to impose democracy in the Middle East, and the mistake the missionaries made when they tried to impose Christianity on the native Hawaiians.  We didn't listen, we just assumed -- which, as my daughter tells me, always makes "an ass of U and Me." 

Bonnie Raitt says it: "I can't make you love me if you don't. I can't make your heart feel something it won't." You can't force people to change. You can invite them to change.  You can establish a relationship and introduce them to your way of being in the world. But change is a two-way street: I may change the way you see something, but your way, whatever it is, has value, too: I need to listen as well as preach.  And as long as I do all the talking, you're gonna get restive, because you, too, want -- and deserve -- to be heard.

So yeah.  I'm not liking this. I'm scared. I don't feel heard. I'm wary. I'm guilty. I'm not happy. I'm all those things. But I do still have this odd faith, in spite of it all.  My Christian roots again -- and a lifetime of miracles experienced, I have to say -- I just ... I still believe God is at work in this. Somehow. As usual, when I'm in a pinch, I can't imagine how God's gonna pull us out of it.  But somehow everything does seem, ultimately, even if I no longer think it's likely to happen in what remains of my lifetime, to work out for good.  Yup. I still think that.  In spite of everything.

And here's what I also think.  Maybe it's a good thing that all those angry people have come out of their closets screaming. Granted, I am absolutely terrified of conflict, for childhood reasons I don't need to go into again. But all things considered, I'd rather have people speaking their truth than pretending to be or believe something they're not and they don't.  

At least now we know where we stand.  Now we can really start to listen. We may not like what we're hearing, but maybe it might be a little closer to the truth.  I'm hoping that's a good thing.

Yes.  A bunch of illusions have died. But maybe some new growth will emerge out of the ... what is it they call them? Nurse logs?  You know - the trees that fall in the forest and rot, and provide a home for the new plants? Sometimes what emerges may be something new, something you've never seen before.  Something you'd never imagined.

That's the hope anyway.  And in spite of everything, I'm sticking to it. After all -- what good would it do to abandon it?  I'd only just be more unhappy. 

So yeah. Life's crap right now. Not likely to get better soon.  But I do think good may come out of it eventually.  In the meantime, I intend to keep "brightening the corner where you are." 

So come sit with me. Maybe together we'll generate enough positivity to keep us afloat a little bit longer. That's the hope, anyway.  We'll see. But more importantly, maybe we'll learn to listen -- I mean, really listen, to what the rest of the world has to teach us.  And maybe, a little, to God...

Sunday, November 20, 2016

A liberal agenda

May peace be in your heart today;
may every soul find peace.

Saturday, November 19, 2016

Listen for the promptings of the heart

Life goes along, and goes along,
and then some unexpected trial emerges.
Dark shadows, conjured by the mind,
stand looming at the threshold of each thought.
What does the future hold, and how can we go on?
What can I do? What should I do?
Now, more than ever, we must listen:
listen for the promptings of the heart.

Friday, November 18, 2016

A little color

I hope today you find a little color
to brighten the darker edges of your life...

Thursday, November 17, 2016

The Divine Heartbeat

Stop. Stop now, and listen. Listen with your heart 
for that generative pulse that flows
so deep, beneath the chaos and confusion;
the Divine heartbeat that empowers all creation.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

A world that thirsts for love

Sometime today, make time to sit
and listen for the peace that lies beneath.
Let silence rule the chambers of your heart,
and echo down the corridors of thought,
pour out your lips and soften all the angry words and images
that cast their ugly colors on a world that thirsts for love.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Alternatives to fear

How it is is not how it appears:
this burning may be making way
for some new, brighter, light to come.
Be patient, act wisely, and be kind to all you meet, 
for many are now living in fear.

Monday, November 14, 2016

Channeling your flow

Whatever the trials you struggle with today,
Don't think of them as limitations;
Think of them as riverbanks, 
Channeling your creative flow.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Each loss, some new beginning

Each year I stand, and watch in awe
as the maples shed their golden leaves:
their exuberant flaming up and dying moves me.
But still, I never seem to learn the lesson of the trees...
When will I cease to grieve each loss
as if it wouldn't bring some new beginning?

Saturday, November 12, 2016

To dream of possibilities

Step into this boat, my friend:
together we will cut ourselves adrift and glide
across the cloud-dark seas
to dream again of possibilities.