Too often
Grace rambles
Unnoticed
Through my days
Until I pause
To brush the leafy edges
Of a bush
Or notice that
The air is cool in my throat
Or see a cloud unfold
Across the blue
When an ordinary corner of life
Catches on my senses
And peels back
The wonder of today
I rush to gratefulness
Or it rushes to me
It helps me see abundance
Here
And here
And here.
More than enough
To overflow
My soul.
Fear
Evokes Anger
And Retreat
And Despair
It is too much in my face
It is too much in the voices
That call to me to join them
In the chaos
It wants to steal my soul
And yet
And yet
There is still beauty in the sunrise
Even yet the giggle of a child
Can break my heart
My lover’s gaze can feed my soul
I will not give them all of me
Those voices of chaos and fear
Those calls to join the fray
That try to evoke both fear and guilt
To steal my life
One distraction at a time
This moment
I will pause
And breathe
And give thanks
For there is much to be thankful for
The very idea
That what I value
Is at risk
Confirms that I value something.
For just a moment I will turn my eyes
To see the preciousness of life
And deny the chaos
That would rip it from me
With the grip of the very fear
That claims I must protect it.
Fear will not help.
Anger will not keep it at bay.
To retreat is to leave the joy behind, as well.
Despair is capitulation to the foe.
But joy
And beauty
Are waiting
If I will but shift my gaze
The source of hope
Is a move from fear
To gratitude
photo by Pascal Gaudette retrieved from Flickr per CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
What does it take
To receive a gift
Graciously,
Fully?
It takes attention
And an open heart.
It means suspension of judgement,
Looking away from my gain
To your generosity.
The object in your hands
Is not the true gift.
It is the offer of your attention
Calling to mine.
It is your heart, whispering …
‘I want to connect.
I want to honor
Your presence in my world.’
It is the open palm,
The heart extended,
That whispered longing,
That holds the beauty.
And to give a gift?
You must release it, tenderly.
It is an offer
Not a consummation.
When a gift is truly given
And received fully in return,
Two hearts are exchanged.
photo by Eva retrieved from Flickr per cc BY-NC-SA 2.0
… this is one of those moments when the strange and beautiful reality of the human condition rises in the face of what would deny it. – Kristi Tippett.
Below the loud and clamoring voices
Beyond the angry fury
Even beneath the clubs and pepper spray
And bullets
Runs the urgent
Wistful
Steadfast
Song of community.
It is not about me.
It is not about you.
It is about us.
When I cower alone
I find myself bereft
Of courage, strength
And hope
I am not enough
Alone.
I cannot be me
Without you.
I cannot hold to hope
Without your candle.
And yet
I can see its flickering light.
In Minnesota,
In Ukraine,
In Gaza.
This little light of yours.
You let it shine.
I dip my fragile wick
Toward your flame.
Photo by Steven Train uploaded from Flickr per CC BY-NC 2.0
In all this hubbub, I find that
I’ve folded my small world around me
Drawn in tightly
Hunkered down.
My protective stance is to withdraw
Rather than strike out.
Yet that, too, is hurtful.
A withdrawal from life diminishes
More than just me.
I think of myself as too small.
What use am I among the vastness
A silly, mistake-prone, appendage,
An intrusion in the flow?
And so, I discount myself.
I think that any contribution I make
Must somehow be perfect
Or it is useless.
I forget that ‘perfection’
Is a process.
It never starts at its culmination.
Growth, itself, is one of the beauties of life.
The unfolding is, itself,
A slow and stately dance.
There is, you see,
A humility that withdraws
Ashamed of its very self
But there is also quite another -
A humility that offers itself
Even knowing it is not perfect.
That is the gift of vulnerability.
And mine invites yours.
My own thread
Does not add much
To the tapestry of life
But I do love
The flawed and nubby
Pattern we make together.
Photo and tapestry by Fiona Dix posted to flickr and used per cc 2.0
Sometimes, so they say, ‘you can’t see the forest for the trees.’ As of late, I think I have the opposite problem. I need to look, really look, deeply look At a single tree, a single branch, a single leaf. I’ve been trying to figure it all out. But the forest is much too big for me. One tender leaf, with veins outspread to touch each cell Is, perhaps, the correct perspective for me At this one, perfect moment In your universe of time and space. I’ll leave the forest to you, just now. And reach my tiny veins to those cells near me - The ones that I can touch. [photo by eltpics per cc 2.0 hosted by flikr]
I receive the blessings of October • The birthday gift of presence from my family, willing to join me outdoors despite the wind and unexpected heat • The whimsy of encounters with armadillos and cows • The crunch of leaves underfoot I offer this blessing in response • May you catch the eyes of a friend, this day, and see within in them a reflection of your worth to them – and give in jubilant response, the confirmation of their worth to you.
I receive the blessings of August • The rhythm of rain upon the roof after so many days of dry and hot • An escape to the mountains with friends, hiking trails, catching sight of such majesty, listening to the chatter of a stream • Sharing a dinner with friends, flavored with fond memories and the simple gestures of kind and faithful love • One cool morning back home, that feels a bit like a taunt, but holds real promise I offer this blessing in response • May your heart know the blessings that hide inside your challenges and hold to the deep assurance that your own path leads through beauty and bends towards home
When I see kindness, When I see beauty, And my soul sighs … Then, I know that I am saying, ‘Yes, please,’ To the whisper of reality That is more deeply true Than all the pain along the path. Whatever else is true, You have won my heart, again. [photo by Stanley Zimney per cc 2.0 on flickr]
This day, a blessing.
This day, a whisper of hope
And the brush of love across my cheek.
This day, a gasp of beauty.
These await my waking.
My heart is eager
To greet such a day as
this day.
[photo by Christian Weidinger per cc 2.0]
Quiet Hope 