It’s still possible

It’s still possible to fully understand

you have always been the place

where the miracle has happened:

that you have been since your birth,

the bread given and the wine lifted,

the change witnessed and the change itself,

that you have secretly been, all along,

a goodness that can continue

to be a goodness to itself.

It’s still possible in the end

to realize why you are here 

and why you have endured, 

and why you might have suffered 

so much, so that in the end, 

you could witness love, miraculously 

arriving from nowhere, crossing 

bravely as it does, out of darkness, 

from that great and spacious stillness 

inside you, to the simple, 

light-filled life of being said.

…

--David Whyte

Excerpt From STILL POSSIBLE

in ‘Still Possible’

Many Rivers Press Jan 1st 2022

the mississippi river empties into the gulf

and the gulf enters the sea and so forth,

none of them emptying anything,

all of them carrying yesterday

forever on their white tipped backs,

all of them dragging forward tomorrow.

it is the great circulation

of the earth’s body, like the blood

of the gods, this river in which the past

is always flowing. every water

is the same water coming round.

everyday someone is standing on the edge

of this river, staring into time,

whispering mistakenly:

only here. only now.

--Lucille Clifton

Life beckons us as a flicker. A tendril. A corner of darkness. A bell. A spark of the soul. And curiosity propels us to follow.

ROSE ZONETTI

The Journey

Above the mountains 

the geese turn into

the light again

painting their

black silhouettes

on an open sky.

Sometimes everything 

has to be

inscribed across 

the heavens

so you can find 

the one line

already written 

inside you.

Sometimes it takes 

a great sky

to find that

first, bright

and indescribable

wedge of freedom

in your own heart.

Sometimes with

the bones of the black

sticks left when the fire 

has gone out

someone has written 

something new

in the ashes

of your life.

You are not leaving,

even as the light 

fades quickly now,

in my eyes

you are always 

arriving.

--David Whyte : Essentials

Many Rivers Press. January. 2020

For Warmth

I hold my face in my two hands.

No, I am not crying. 

I hold my face in my two hands 

to keep the loneliness warm—

two hands protecting, 

two hands nourishing, 

two hands preventing 

my soul from leaving me 

in anger.

 

by Thich Nhat Hanh, written after the bombing of Ben Tre, Vietnam when an American military man made the comment, "We had to destroy the town in order to save it." 

From the book, Call Me By My True Names

The whole notion of reciprocity is the idea that every being has a gift. But that gift and responsibility are two sides of the same coin. "The strawberry was given the gift of juicy red sweetness; it was also given the responsibility to feed certain elements in the community. So asking how we participate in reciprocity is asking “what is our responsibility”—but it’s also asking “what is our gift?” What is the gift of the human people? That’s what we’re called to give in reciprocity, in return for everything that we have been given, more often than not in return for everything we have taken. What is it that we have to give back? The reason I love to think about that in terms of gift and responsibility is that each of us has a different gift. As a parent, as a teacher, as an artist, as a gardener—whatever your gift is, we’re called to give it in return for everything that we’ve been given. 

- Robin Wall Kimmerer

An environmentalist friend wrote to me feeling depressed and overwhelmed with all of the bad news, especially after seeing my photographs of birds filled with plastic. Her sentence that broke my heart was: "I think it's generally difficult once you know how hopeless things seem."

In this regard, the importance of connecting with beauty cannot be overstated. If we are going to face and acknowledge the darkness--as we must--then let us also face and integrate the light: the immense, astonishing miracle we are all part of. In every moment, at every scale from the microscopic to the cosmic, our world and our own lives are impossibly magnificent and complex artworks, or mandalas, or waveforms, or whatever the right word is-- being created in realtime by an unknowable artist. Our very existence, right here and now, is a mystery beyond all mysteries, beyond what any words could express. The gift of consciousness is the most magical and valuable thing imaginable, and in that way every one of us has won the lottery of the Universe.

When we can contain these experiences in balance: all of the bad news, the destruction, loss, suffering, etc., AND the vast beauty of our world and our own selves, then we become whole. And in that place we stand in our full creative power to shine our light, to shift the energetic field, to change the stories that will shape the future. 

--Chris Jordan

The Cure for It All

Go gently today, don’t hurry

or think about the next thing. Walk

with the quiet trees, can you believe

how brave they are—how kind? Model your life

after theirs. Blow kisses

at yourself in the mirror

especially when

you think you’ve messed up. Forgive

yourself for not meeting your unreasonable

expectations. You are human, not

God—don’t be so arrogant.

Praise fresh air

clean water, good dogs. Spin

something from joy. Open

a window, even if

it’s cold outside. Sit. Close

your eyes. Breathe. Allow

the river

of it all to pulse

through eyelashes

fingertips, bare toes. Breathe in

breathe out. Breathe until

you feel

your bigness, until the sun

rises in your veins. Breathe

until you stop needing

anything

to be different.

--Julia Fehrenbacher

To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they're too exhausted to be any longer. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out, to become speedily found when they are lost. But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honour what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness.

~ Heidi Priebe