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Sep 6

Summer, Waxing and Waning

“Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching.” – Mary Oliver

The Summer Day by Mary Oliver

“Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”

Life, one day, one minute at a time.
Simple, ordinary, brilliant.
Blessed on this ground.
In the quiet and chaos, all in between.
Forever in the stream.
Precious, wild, presence.

“May I stay forever in the stream.” – Mary Oliver

Sep 5

Unencumbered and Bright

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”― Ralph Waldo Emerson

To being yourself
Loud and soft
Authentic, brilliant, imperfect
To allow others the same grace
New day, clean slate
Useful, honorable, compassionate
Unencumbered and bright
Blooming in all seasons.

“The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.”― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sep 4

Reckless Ripples

“To frolic with the wind, and tease the sea.” — Lord Byron

“Ripples are made by those reckless enough to jump into the ocean.”― Michael Bassey Johnson, Before You Doubt Yourself

Frolic, play, fun.
Performance and production put aside.
Opinions and assumptions on a time out.
Lighten and loosen up.
Life is happening now in ordinary days.
Awaiting your attention, participation, partaking.
Simple acts, deep gratitude, easy smile.
Hold hands with awe and wonder.
Joy, laughter, delight too.
A leap away.

“It is a happy talent to know how to play.”― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sep 3

Holding Flowers

“In English we say ‘I’m tired.’ But in poetry we say I’ve been holding up entire skies with hands that were only ever meant to hold flowers.” – Sophia Bray

“Rest:
as beautiful and necessary a task as any.
How else can we remember to breathe?
to think?
to shut out the world?
to not think?
to regain the strength
to take on the world?
to take in the world
with all our senses?
to dream?”― Shellen Lubin

Endings and beginnings.
Holding hands.
Walking each other home.
Until one takes the lead.
As the other fades, falls behind, rests from work well done.
Sure to come again.
In due time and timing.
Entering familiar spaces with fresh eyes, new hope.
Holding flowers in all seasons.
Skies meant for gazing, not holding.

“Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.
Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.” – Rainer Maria Rilke

Sep 2

Hidden, Front and Center

“Be still and listen to the voices that belong
to the stream banks and the trees and the open fields.
Find your hope, then, on the ground under your feet.”― Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

“Sometimes hidden from me
in daily custom and in trust,
so that I live by you unaware
as by the beating of my heart,

Suddenly you flare in my sight,
a wild rose blooming at the edge
of thicket, grace and light
where yesterday was only shade,

and once again I am blessed, choosing
again what I chose before.”
― Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

Not for more or different.
But for gratitude and grace, senses ablaze.
To recognize and partake in blessings, beauty, light.
Already present in abundance.
On the ground I stand.
Prayer, poetry, proclamation.

“For everything that comes
is a gift, the meaning always
carried out of sight
to renew our whereabouts,
always a starting place.
And every gift is perfect
in its beginning, for it
is “from above, and cometh down
from the Father of lights.”
― Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

Sep 1

September Sun

“September days have the warmth of summer in their briefer hours, but in their lengthening evenings a prophetic breath of autumn.”― Rowland E. Robinson

“September reminds us to lean into change, to trust the process, and to welcome the opportunities that come with every new chapter. As the air shifts, we are reminded that every ending carries the seed of a new beginning. Life whispers that change is not to be feared, but embraced… a gentle reminder that letting go is a part of growth and that beauty is found not only in what blooms, but also in what transforms.”― Steve Maraboli

Season shifts.
Out and in.
Thresholds, bridges, crossings.
To remain open, curious, welcoming.
Beginnings and endings woven with seeds and fruit,
Harvest well.
Fruit of transformation.

“[T]hat old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, vacation nearly done, obligations gathering, books and football in the air … Another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning, as if last year’s mistakes had been wiped clean by summer.”― Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose

Aug 31

Harvest the Fruit of this Day

“Extraordinary things are always hiding in places people never think to look.”― Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper

“Let July be July,
And let August be August.
And let yourself
just be
even in
the uncertainty.
You don’t have to fix everything.
You don’t have to solve everything.
And you can still find peace
and grow
in the wild
of changing things.” – Morgan Harper Nichols

August spilling into September.
Last days holding hands with first days.
Roots, fruits, harvest.
In the wild of changing things.
Breathing and grounding in love.
Participate, offer, partake.

“Love is not an equation, it is not a contract, and it is not a happy ending. Love is the slate under the chalk, the ground that buildings rise, and the oxygen in the air. It is the place you come back to, no matter where your headed”― Jodi Picoult

Aug 30

Wabi

“We exist with a wind whispering inside and our moon flexing. Amid the ducts, inside the basilica of bones.”― Jack Gilbert

“Our heart wanders lost in the dark woods. Our dream wrestles in the castle of doubt. But there’s music in us. Hope is pushed down but the angel flies up again taking us with her.”― Jack Gilbert, Collected Poems

Notes falling into music.
Basilicas rising.
Valiant blossoming.
Fruition to flourishing to folding.
New bloom awaits its turn.
Breaking through fertile soil.
Hope ascends.

“The Japanese think it strange we paint our old wooden houses when it takes so long to find the wabi in them. They prefer the bonsai tree after the valiant blossoming is over, the leaves fallen. When bareness reveals a merit born in the vegetable struggling.”― Jack Gilbert, Collected Poems

Aug 29

Muddled, Messy, Unedited

“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes… Including you.” — Anne Lamott

“I’m not impressed by efficiency. That’s the truth.
And just because it’s quick, it doesn’t mean that it is masterly.
When it comes to poetry, I don’t think speed has ever really been the goal.
I think sometimes it takes ages
to find the right words for that small piece of your soul.
We are slowly mining language, searching for a gem.
And besides, everything I love is a little bit lumpy.
In this life, the things I most adore
are all so fabulously flawed:
The green corduroy coat, for example,
that patiently waits for winter in my hall—
the one that used to keep my mom warm, and now does the same for me,
with padding peeking out of the cuffs
and pockets clinging on for dear life;
Or the accidental butt-dial left by my friends—
the voicemail where I can hear them chanting for ABBA,
demanding one more song;
Or the dinner that’s burnt at the edges;
Or the apology typed mid-cry;
Or the way my trousers hug my belly;
Or texting, “Sorry, I forgot to reply.”
I really like—I love, actually—living in a way, in a place,
where nothing lines up quite right.
I want more of it. I want all of it:
The muddled. The messy.
The bits AI might edit out.
I am always going to opt for the higgledy-piggledy heartbeat,
the world with its cardigan on backwards,
covered in fingerprints, thumb-smudged, and warm.
I want an awkward pause.
I will choose the unedited pulse of things every single time.
The beauty of the almost,
the nearly there,
the not quite.
The things that remind me I am not sparkly or shiny,
or even really getting it right.
But I am.
We all are.
Undoubtedly alive.” – Georgie Jones

To an unedited, non-curated, honest, messy, fun day.
Steeped in the silly, ordinary, delight.
Flavors rising, colors deepening, light brightening.
The beauty of the almost and unfolding.
Undoubtedly alive and so much more than well.

 

Aug 28

Stubborn Gladness

“We are all meant to be mothers of God…for God is always needing to be born.”― Meister Eckhart

“We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world.”― Jack Gilbert, Refusing Heaven

Intuition, intention, trust
Seed, bud, bloom
Corners and crevices of delight
Ordinary and sameness transformed by presence and attention
To partake in the richness of this day
Free from analysis, measurement, comparison.
Living simply with gladness, grace, gratitude
Creation and re-creation.

“We must unlearn the constellations to see the stars.”― Jack Gilbert, The Great Fires

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