Things to Think

Think in ways you've never thought before.

If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message

Larger than anything you've ever heard,

Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.

Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,

Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose

Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers

A child of your own whom you've never seen.

When someone knocks on the door, think that he's about

To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,

Or that it's not necessary to work all the time, or that it's

Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.

--Robert Bly

You must forgive those who hurt you, even if whatever they did to you is unforgivable in your mind. You will forgive them not because they deserve to be forgiven, but because you don’t want to suffer and hurt yourself every time you remember what they did to you.

—Don Miguel Ruiz

One morning

One morning 

we will wake up 

and forget to build 

that wall we’ve been building, 

the one between us 

the one we’ve been building 

for years, perhaps 

out of some sense 

of right and boundary, 

perhaps out of habit.

One morning 

we will wake up 

and let our empty hands 

hang empty at our sides. 

Perhaps they will rise, 

as empty things 

sometimes do 

when blown 

by the wind. 

Perhaps they simply 

will not remember 

how to grasp, how to rage.

We will wake up

that morning

and we will have

misplaced all our theories

about why and how

and who did what

to whom, we will have mislaid

all our timelines

of when and plans of what

and we will not scramble

to write the plans and theories anew.

On that morning,

not much else

will have changed.

Whatever is blooming

will still be in bloom.

Whatever is wilting

will wilt. There will be fields

to plow and trains

to load and children

to feed and work to do.

And in every moment,

in every action, we will

feel the urge to say thank you,

we will follow the urge to bow.

--Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Humans are not our enemies

“In February 1967 grenades were thrown into the SYSS (School of Youth for Social Service) dormitories during the night.... Eighteen people were killed or seriously wounded. It was difficult to remain calm with so much hatred and anger directed towards us. We wondered how people could be so cruel. We had no weapons, only love and concern for fellow humans. We cared not only for the poor peasants, but also for many other friends. How could they throw grenades at unarmed young people?

We had to take care of the wounded and also to organize funerals for our friends who had died. [A monk] asked me to write a speech for him to read at the funeral. After a day of mindfulness by myself, I wrote the following:

“We cannot hate you, you who have thrown grenades and killed our friends, because we know that men are not our enemies. Our only enemies are the misunderstanding, hatred, jealousy, and ignorance that lead to such acts of violence. Please allow us to remove all misunderstanding so we can work together for the happiness of the Vietnamese people. Our only aim is to help remove ignorance and illiteracy from the countryside of Vietnam. Social change must start in our hearts with the will to transform our own egotism, greed, and lust into understanding, love, commitment, and sharing responsibility for the poverty and injustice in our country.”

--Sister Chan Khong: from the book "Learning True Love: How I Learned and Practiced Social Change in Vietnam"

Last Night As I Was Sleeping

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.

Last night as I slept,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.

--Antonio Machado, translated by Robert Bly