The Blessing of the Morning Light to You (An Easter Blessing during COVID-19) …

The blessing of the morning light to you,
may it find you even in your invisible
appearances, may you be seen to have risen
from some other place we intuit and know
in the darkness and that that carries all we need.
May you see what is hidden in you
as a place of hospitality and shadowed shelter,
may that hidden darkness be your gift to give,
may you hold the shadow to the light
and the silence of that place to the word of the light,
may you join all of your previous disappearances
with this new appearance, this new morning,
this being seen again, new and newly alive. Continue reading “The Blessing of the Morning Light to You (An Easter Blessing during COVID-19) …”

Invisible Connections (The Beauty of Our Lives) …

Think of yourself as an incandescent power, illuminated and perhaps forever talked to by God and his messengers.
― Brenda Ueland from If You Want To Write

 

The Stream of Life

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves
of leaves and flowers. Continue reading “Invisible Connections (The Beauty of Our Lives) …”

House Of Light …

Ten times a day something happens to me like this – some strengthening throb of amazement – some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.
Mary Oliver

 

Still, what I want in my life
is to be willing
to be dazzled—
to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.
I want to believe I am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.
I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing—
that the light is everything—that it is more than the sum
of each flawed blossom rising and falling. And I do.
― Mary Oliver from House of Light (The Pond)

 

…we cannot be in the present moment and run our story lines at the same time!
― Pema Chödrön from When Things Fall Apart

 

I look; morning to night I am never done looking.
Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
as though with your arms wide open.

And thinking: maybe something will come, some
shining coil of wind,
or a few leaves from any old tree –
they are all in this too.
― Mary Oliver from Devotions (Where Does The Temple Begin, Where Does It End)

 

At any moment, you have a choice, that either leads you closer to your spirit or further away from it.
Thich Nhat Hanh

 

Living Deep and Wide

Let us swing wide all the doors and windows of our hearts
on their rusty hinges
so we may learn how to open to life.
Let us see the light in the other and honor it
so we may lift one another on our shoulders
and carry each other along.
Let holiness move in us
so we may pay attention to its small voice
and give ourselves to life fully with both hands.
— Dawna Markova from Wide Open: On Living with Purpose and Passion

 

I’m in the process of becoming, in the process of evolving. I’m neither doomed nor completely free, but I’m creating my future with every word, every action, every thought.
— Pema Chödrön from When Things Fall Apart

 

And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?
― Mary Oliver from Devotions (The Swan)

 

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted—
each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,
whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.
― Mary Oliver from Devotions (Morning Poem)

 

 

Mockingbirds

This morning
two mockingbirds
in the green field
were spinning and tossing

the white ribbons
of their songs
into the air.
I had nothing

better to do
than listen.
I mean this
seriously.

In Greece,
a long time ago,
an old couple
opened their door

to two strangers
who were,
it soon appeared,
not men at all,

but gods.
It is my favorite story—
how the old couple
had almost nothing to give

but their willingness
to be attentive—
and for this alone
the gods loved them

and blessed them.
When the gods rose
out of their mortal bodies,
like a million particles of water

from a fountain,
the light
swept into all the corners
of the cottage,

and the old couple,
shaken with understanding,
bowed down—
but still they asked for nothing
beyond the difficult life
which they had already.
And the gods smiled as they vanished,
clapping their great wings.

Wherever it was
I was supposed to be
this morning—
whatever it was I said
I would be doing—
I was standing
at the edge of the field—
I was hurrying

through my own soul,
opening its dark doors—
I was leaning out;
I was listening.
— Mary Oliver from New and Selected Poems, Volume 2

 

Put Yourself In The Way of Grace

“Put yourself in the way of grace,” says a friend of ours, who is a monk, and a
bishop; and he smiles his floating and shining smile.

And truly, can there be a subject of more interest to each of us than whether
or not grace exists, and the soul? And, consequent upon the existence of the soul,
a whole landscape of incorruptible forces, perhaps even a source, an almost
palpably suggested second universe? A world that is incomprehensible through
reason?

To believe in the soul—to believe in it exactly as much and as hardily as one
believes in a mountain, say, or a fingernail, which is ever in view—imagine the
consequences! How far-reaching, and thoroughly wonderful! For everything, by
such a belief, would be charged, and changed. You wake in the morning, the soul
exists, your mouth sings it, your mind accepts it. And the perceived, tactile
world is, upon the instant, only half the world!

How easily I travel, about halfway, through such a scenario. I believe in the
soul—in mine, and yours, and the blue-jay’s, and the pilot whale’s. I believe each
goldfinch flying away over the coarse ragweed has a soul, and the ragweed too,
plant by plant, and the tiny stones in the earth below, and the grains of earth as
well. Not romantically do I believe this, nor poetically, nor emotionally, nor
metaphorically except as all reality is metaphor, but steadily, lumpishly, and
absolutely.

The wild waste spaces of the sea, and the pale dunes with one hawk hanging
in the wind, they are for me the formal spaces that, in a liturgy, are taken up by
prayer, song, sermon, silence, homily, scripture, the architecture of the church
itself.

And as with prayer, which is a dipping of oneself toward the light, there is a
consequence of attentiveness to the grass itself, and the sky itself, and to the
floating bird. I too leave the fret and enclosure of my own life. I too dip myself
toward the immeasurable.
— Mary Oliver from Winter Hours

 

See Also:

 

 

Don’t Squander Joy …

Don’t squander joy. We can’t prepare for tragedy and loss. When we turn every opportunity to feel joy into a test drive for despair, we actually diminish our resilience. Yes, softening into joy is uncomfortable. Yes, it’s scary. Yes, it’s vulnerable. But every time we allow ourselves to lean into joy and give in to those moments, we build resilience and we cultivate hope. The joy becomes part of who we are, and when bad things happen — and they do happen — we are stronger.

— Brené Brown from Daring Greatly

 

Turning

Going too fast for myself I missed
more than I think I can remember

almost everything it seems sometimes
and yet there are chances that come back Continue reading “Don’t Squander Joy …”

The Voice Of Your Own Soul …

Responsibility to yourself means refusing to let others do your thinking, talking, and naming for you; it means learning to respect and use your own brains and instincts; hence, grappling with hard work.
— Adrienne Rich from On Lies, Secrets, and Silence

When you take the time to draw on your listening-imagination, you will begin to hear this gentle voice at the heart of your life. It is deeper and surer than all the other voices of disappointment, unease, self-criticism and bleakness. All holiness is about learning to hear the voice of your own soul. It is always there and the more deeply you learn to listen, the greater surprises and discoveries that will unfold. To enter into the gentleness of your own soul changes the tone and quality of your life. Your life is no longer consumed by hunger for the next event, experience or achievement.

Continue reading “The Voice Of Your Own Soul …”

Hope Nonetheless …

Hoping against hope, he believed.
—Romans 4:18

Hope nonetheless.
Hope despite.
Hope regardless.
Hope still.
Hope where we had ceased to hope.
Hope amid what threatens hope.
Hope with those who feed our hope.
Hope beyond what we had hoped.
Hope that draws us past our limits.
Hope that defies expectations.
Hope that questions what we have known.
Hope that makes a way where there is none.
Hope that takes us past our fear.
Hope that calls us into life.
Hope that holds us beyond death.
Hope that blesses those to come. Continue reading “Hope Nonetheless …”