Breath is the First Prayer …

Breath is the first prayer
That opens us to wind,
Rhythm breaths us
Into the pulse of the world.

Impulse lives in matter,
Body of earth, water,
Air, fire, She knows
The shape of my bones. Continue reading “Breath is the First Prayer …”

Advertisements

The Price (Good Friday Meditation) …

The suffering itself is not so bad; it’s the resentment against suffering that is the real pain.
— Allen Ginsberg from The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion

 

There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal. Continue reading “The Price (Good Friday Meditation) …”

A Canvas …

What would you do with a canvas,
a brush, and colours?

What could you bring to a table set blank
with paints, and space to make your mark,
to leave your print.

I have a feeling He’s given us permission
to pick the paints,
and the colours that reflect us. Continue reading “A Canvas …”

A Little Of This Mystery Each Day …

One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery each day.
Albert Einstein (memoirs of William Miller – Life magazine, May 2, 1955)

Remembering Winter: The Season in Silence

Ice wine, as every drinker knows, is sweetness made from stress. That’s not news, or not exactly. All good wine takes its essential sugar from the stress of its circumstances: pinot noir, the grape of the cold country of Champagne, gets flabby and soupy as the climate warms. But ice wine is extreme sweetness made from extraordinary stress. Continue reading “A Little Of This Mystery Each Day …”

Eternal Now (Christmas Meditation) …

Time is too slow for those who wait,
too swift for those who fear,
too long for those who grieve,
too short for those who rejoice,
but for those who love, time is eternity.
— Henry Van Dyke from Music and Other Poems

The LIFE WITH GOD posture is predicated on the view that relationship is at the core of the cosmos: God the Father with God the Son with God the Holy Spirit. And so we should not be surprised to discover that when God desired to restore his broken relationship with people, he sent his Son to dwell with us. Continue reading “Eternal Now (Christmas Meditation) …”

God Is Everywhere (Advent Meditation) …

To look at the last great self-portraits of Rembrandt or to read Pascal or hear Bach’s B-minor Mass is to know beyond the need for further evidence that if God is anywhere, he is with them, as he is also with the man behind the meat counter, the woman who scrubs floors at Roosevelt Memorial, the high-school math teacher who explains fractions to the bewildered child. And the step from “God with them” to Emmanuel, “God with us,” may not be as great as it seems. What keeps the wild hope of Christmas alive year after year in a world notorious for dashing all hopes is the haunting dream that the child who was born that day may yet be born again even in us and our own snowbound, snowblind longing for him. Continue reading “God Is Everywhere (Advent Meditation) …”

I Just Want To Do Love Right …

Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.
L.R. Knost

There is a lovely idea in the Celtic tradition that if you send out goodness from yourself, or if you share that which is happy or good within you, it will all come back to you multiplied ten thousand times. In the kingdom of love there is no competition, there is no possessiveness or control. The more love you give away, the more love you will have.
John O’Donohue from Anam Cara

Continue reading “I Just Want To Do Love Right …”

The Meadow (Summer Solstice Meditation) …

I hear the unblown flute,
In the deep summer shadows …
Basho

 

As we walk into words that have waited for us to enter them, so
the meadow, muddy with dreams, is gathering itself together

and trying, with difficulty, to remember how to make wildflowers.
Imperceptibly heaving with the old impatience, it knows

for certain that two horses walk upon it, weary of hay.
The horses, sway-backed and self important, cannot design

how the small white pony mysteriously escapes the fence every day.
This is the miracle just beyond their heavy-headed grasp, Continue reading “The Meadow (Summer Solstice Meditation) …”

The Opening of Eyes …

That day I saw beneath dark clouds
the passing light over the water
and I heard the voice of the world speak out,
I knew then, as I had before
life is no passing memory of what has been
nor the remaining pages in a great book
waiting to be read. Continue reading “The Opening of Eyes …”