If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it’s not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take. That’s why it’s your path.-—Joseph Campbell

Posts tagged ‘poetry’

Flow From Me Like a River

A poem I will share with writers this afternoon:

I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.
I want to free what waits within me
so that what no one has dared to wish for

may for once spring clear
without my contriving.

If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,
but this is what I need to say.
May what I do flow from me like a river,
no forcing and no holding back,
the way it is with children.

Then in these swelling and ebbing currents,
these deepening tides moving out, returning,
I will sing you as no one ever has,

streaming through widening channels
into the open sea.

Rainer Maria Rilke


” On Zen ” by Daio Kokushi

no words today…

Standing in an Open Field

“On Zen,” by Daio Kokushi

There is a reality even prior to heaven and earth;

Indeed, it has no form, much less a name;

Eyes fail to see it; It has no voice for ears to detect;

To call it Mind or Buddha violates its nature,

For it then becomes like a visionary flower in the air;

It is not Mind, nor Buddha;

Absolutely quiet, and yet illuminating in a mysterious way,

It allows itself to be perceived only by the clear-eyed.

It is Dharma truly beyond form and sound;

It is Tao having nothing to do with words.

Wishing to entice the blind,

The Buddha has playfully let words escape his golden mouth;

Heaven and earth are ever since filled with entangling briars.

O my good worthy friends gathered here,

If you desire to listen to the thunderous voice of the Dharma,

Exhaust your words, empty your thoughts,


View original post 60 more words

Surrender to the Feeling

So when you are listening to somebody, completely, attentively, then you are listening not only to the words, but also to the feeling of what is being conveyed, to the whole of it, not part of it.  Jiddu Krishnamurti

The tragedy of life is in what dies inside a man while he lives – the death of genuine feeling, the death of inspired response, the awareness that makes it possible to feel the pain or the glory of other men in yourself.  Norman Cousins

All of our reasoning ends in surrender to feeling.  Blaise Pascal

I’m a haiku beginner. Still unsure if I’m “doing it right,”  a critique session sounds dangerously close to criticism session to me.

But yesterday at the haiku critique I wasn’t listening for a 5-7-5 syllable, three lines about nature format that I had learned in school.

I wanted to know if the words stirred me, drew me into the moment, sang.

Pamela said she had an art teacher who said, “A good painter follows the rules; a master breaks them and it makes it work.”

That thought felt good.

Enjoying the Ride

Accept – then act. Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it. – Eckhart Tolle

Why not just live in the moment, especially if it has a good beat? – Goldie Hawn

This morning I’m sore from all the garden work and satisfied that my haiku have been sent to the haiku critique group for scrutiny. And last night’s dreams were awesome and detailed. I think it’s all connected.

Getting grounded

On hands and knees

Gardener pose.

bed of corn

bed of corn

Chelsea (cherry) tomatoes

Chelsea (cherry) tomatoes

emerging okra

emerging okra



Walking in Beauty

The Navajo Beauty Way Ceremony

In beauty may I walk
All day long may I walk
Through the returning seasons may I walk
Beautifully I will possess again
Beautifully birds
Beautifully joyful birds
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk
With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk
With dew about my feet may I walk
With beauty may I walk
With beauty before me may I walk
With beauty behind me may I walk
With beauty above me may I walk
With beauty all around me may I walk
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, lively, may I walk
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, living again, may I walk
It is finished in beauty
It is finished in beauty

Anonymous (Navajo)

The following excerpt taken from http://www.native-american-market.com/navajo_beauty_way.html

To Walk in Beauty means not only walking physically. It also, and primarily in fact, means being in harmony with all things and all people, with all objects, all the animals, all the feelings, the plants, the weather and all the events in your life. It means being at peace, serene in the knowledge that all around you is well and that you are well with everything in your life. You accept and are accepted, there is nothing that pulls you in one direction or the other, the polarities are neutralized, you are one with everything. You are ready to walk in Beauty.

Life Cycles

The Seven Of

Under a sky the
color of pea soup
she is looking at her work growing away there
thickly like grapevines or pole beans
as things grow in the real world,
slowly enough.
If you tend them properly, if you mulch, if you water,
you provide birds that eat insects a home and winter food,
if the sun shines
and you pick off caterpillars,
if the praying mantis comes and the ladybugs
and the bees,
then the plants flourish, but at their own internal
Connections are made slowly,
sometimes they grow underground.
You cannot tell always by looking what is
More than half the tree is spread out in the soil under your
Penetrate quietly as the earthworm that blows no trumpet.
persistently as the creeper that brings down the tree.
Spread like the squash
plant that overruns the garden.
Gnaw in the dark and use the sun to make
Weave real connections,
create real nodes, build real houses.
Live a life you can endure: Make love
that is loving.
Keep tangling and interweaving and taking more in,
thicket and bramble wilderness to the outside but to us
interconnected with
rabbit runs and burrows and lairs.
Live as if you liked
yourself, and it may happen:
reach out, keep reaching out, keep bringing
This is how we are going to live for a long time: not always,
every gardener knows that after the digging, after
the planting,
after the
long season of tending and growth, the harvest comes.
~ Marge Piercy

The Guest House

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

— Jelaluddin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks

Listening to Learn

Learning to Listen

Listening for Lessons

A Teacher and her Writing Practice

Writing Is My Drink

slake your thirst; find your voice


~ creative ideas for making a difference ~

...the house I live in...

A journal of life pursued