Be here now

You know — 

You don’t always need to be doing. 

Sometimes it’s okay to just be.

On the inspiration of trees

Today we see these trees and notice 

Their branches look like lace, 

But sometime, way back in the past, 

A woman looked at trees like these 

And wondered if those patterns 

Could be copied using thread. 

From Newton’s apple to Kilmer’s poem, 

Since Eden trees have invited us 

To look beyond what is to what could be...

Time to blossom

I find myself envying the lush exuberance 

With which my apple tree is welcoming 

The transition from winter into spring. 

Instead of preparing me to burst into bloom, 

The long, long months of gray and isolation 

Have conditioned me want more of the same: 

I’m not quite sure I’m ready — 

Or if I ever will be — to blossom again.

Contemplative interrupts

As soon as I get my mental landscape stilled, 

A flotilla of shoulds and to-dos 

Come sailing in, fighting for precedence...

Trying to catch the wind

There is such vulnerability in each of us: 

So many paths that hit dead ends, 

So many obstacles and fears, 

Such heartache and such loss, yet still 

We soldier on, determined to survive, 

Still trying to catch the wind; 

To find and follow the current’s course 

That will lead us safely home.

The gift of Sunday

Remember when Sunday was the day 

That provided rest, and solace; 

A respite from the chaos and the clutter? 

Let this lake be your Sunday: 

Choose to stare at the reflections 

And ignore the tangled branches on the left. 

Breathe in that cool, refreshing mountain air 

And let this blessed stillness soothe your soul.

Let your imperfections show

As a photographer, taught to strive 

For clarity and focus, 

I find I am reluctant to post this photo. 

But there’s beauty in its softness 

And I was delighted to discover 

The delicacy of that unexpected bug. 

See how our need for perfection 

Can prohibit us from sharing? 

Once again I am reminded 

That our self-described imperfections 

Do indeed have their own peculiar charm.

The challenge of re-entry

Locked for a year in comparative isolation, 

We’re now being invited 

To slowly let the colors of community 

Leach back into our world; 

To step out beyond what feels like safety 

Into that which we’ve now been taught to fear. 

How cautiously and consciously 

Will we redefine our boundaries? 

Now that the tide has changed,

What will we keep on keeping out, 

And what will we allow to seep back in?

Going in circles

It’s just when you feel 

You’ve been walking round in circles, 

Never getting to the center of things, 

Yet unable to escape, 

That you discover the truth 

That was there all along: 

It’s not where you’re going that matters; 

It’s being fully present 

Where you are in this moment 

That will teach you everything you need to know.

Celebrating imperfections

The next time you get tangled up 

In thinking that you need to be more perfect, 

Spend some time with a fruit tree 

(These are plums, but other fruits work, too) 

And notice how imperfect they can be, 

Gnarled, lopsided, and yet beautiful 

In their very imperfections — AND 

They’re still producing tasty fruit 

As well as blossoms for the bees. 

Do consider the possibility 

That your imperfections may be part of your charm...

Fogged in...

Fog this morning, 

The sun trying desperately to break through... 

I have days like that, too.

The humble dandelion

Somewhere, not too far from you, 

(Look up, look down, look all around) 

Someone or something is doing their best 

In their own humble but determined way 

To brighten their corner of the universe...

Let nature heal

Don’t be afraid to wander off alone 

When you feel your troubled heart 

Making you angry with the world. 

Some wounds — however large or small — 

Are best healed by time spent where 

The wind and waves can stroke the pain away.

A mix of dark and light

It’s easy to forget 

 How complex each human is; 

Easy to put the other in a box. 

Just as a single surface

Can reflect opposing colors,

Each of us contains both dark and light, 

Both calm and passion, mean and kind;

Reflecting life differently 

Depending on what’s happening 

Down beneath our surface 

And how the winds are stirring 

That part of us that meets the outer world. 

Be gracious, don’t assume the worst, 

Be patient and get better at forgiving.

The daily invitation

Each morning offers a new invitation 

To step forward into the light...

Shift focus

However much our day’s consumed 

With simple, repetitive chores — 

Laundry, dishes, walking the dog — 

It helps to be reminded and encouraged 

To sit, to rest, to focus on 

Something larger and more timeless 

Than ourselves...

Ready to return

As the weather warms 

And the threat of disease begins to fade, 

We dream of returning to old pleasures, 

Greeting them with eyes newly appreciative, Knowing as we now do 

What it was we truly missed 

And what we’ve learned 

We can easily do without...

The colors of evening

Here, in the soft light of evening, 

Everything is growing; 

Leafy shoots appearing everywhere, 

Reaching for the stars. 

How is it that color gives us so much pleasure?

You’re getting close!

The obstacles to your objective 

Are growing fewer and farther apart. 

Keep your eyes lifted to the light

And step carefully:

You’re sure to reach your goal.

Reflections on stillness

Like water, when we’re still 

We can reflect upon what we’re given to observe. 

The more busy, agitated, or disturbed 

Our lives become, 

The less accurate our reflections. 

Making time for stillness is our way 

Of coming closer to assessing 

The breadth and truth of what we see.

When the rest of the world is blooming

It can be hard, 

When the rest of the world is blooming 

And you feel like you’re still buried in the mud, 

Desperately trying to break through 

The hard shell that’s protected you 

Through the long winter we just passed. 

Learn to trust the call of the light, 

Pulling you through the nourishing dark and rain: 

Your time will come.

The challenge in reconnecting

After so much isolation for so long, 

We find it hard to carve a path 

Through the defenses we were forced to erect 

And the ones that have grown up over time; 

The accretion of silence and solitude 

Which now make it doubly difficult 

To reach out and renew old friendships, 

Past connections, and familiar socializing. 

How might we do things differently, 

Carrying as we now do 

The awareness of our singularity?

Restoring compassion

Each morning we return again 

To kneel at the foot of the bodhi tree, 

Emptying our hearts and minds 

And breathing in compassion, 

Inviting it to take root and flow 

Like healing sap, through veins 

And out to limbs, til every cell’s awash 

In the longing to bear fruit 

And cast a shade of love on all we meet.

Blessed ties

Blessed be the ties that bind: 

The connections, the commitments, 

The community that comforts us,

That encourages and protects; 

For all that shelters and prepares us, 

Teaches, guides, and fuels us, 

That we might more effectively deliver

Our own unique contributions 

To spirit and humanity.

Enjoy the journey

I am learning to appreciate 

That lovely in-between time, 

When the snow still clothes the mountains 

But the grass is beginning 

 Its long green journey into spring. 

No longer impatient for what’s coming; 

I’m simply grateful to be enjoying 

The gentle transformation of the seasons.

Standing on the Stone

Standing upon the promise 

Of the stone that rolled away, 

We see at last the role we are to play; 

The vast horizon 

Of the world we’re meant to love, 

And how ephemeral 

The clouds that block our view.

Happy Easter!

Welcome Happy Morning! 

May joy and light and hope fill your heart today🙏

Holy Saturday

Today we grieve together all the losses: 

The illusions and the heroes that lie buried 

In the cold stone chambers of our hearts, 

Awaiting resurrection and release...

Good Friday

Each year we return to this dark river 

To drink from its well of sorrows. 

Reminded once again 

Of man’s inhumanity to man, 

We acknowledge our own complicity 

And hunger for the bright promise of release...

Fading to becoming

As we move into the dark 

And the sun fades from view 

We are reminded: like the spirit, 

It’s still there, though we don’t see it. 

It’s nature’s way of teaching us 

To appreciate and be present 

To who and where we are 

While never losing sight 

Of who and what we are becoming.