Posts made in February, 2008

Give Everything You Have

Give everything you have,
and after you have given,
give what’s left.
After you give what’s left,
give what remains.
After giving that,
give the feeling of having given.
After giving the feeling
of having given,
give what you get
for having given.
Then give again,
never stopping, always giving.
And should it come to pass that you forget,
forgive yourself immediately.
Then begin again,
giving everything you have,
and after you have given,
give what’s left.

The Not-So-Grim Reaper

When my daughter was very young and scraped her knee while playing, as kids do, or had a fever, I would ‘kiss it better’, sing her a song, and reassure her that everything would be OK.

She accepted this without question.  I was her mom, and in her eyes, I could heal.

A few years ago when my doctor said “I have some very bad news for you”, I was terrified, frozen with shock. Cancer.

“But, I eat so well, I stay active, meditate! I’m a peaceful person!” Suddenly my life was filled with teams of doctors and I had to think about treatment options. The decisions seemed impossible to make.

Comfortable With Existence

The other day I was admiring the view, open sky, ocean beyond, the verdant earthy profusion after the recent rains, and as I was appreciating how magnificent it all is, a distant hawk caught my sight.

I looked at this free flyer, and I wanted it to approach closer.
Then I thought this bird has excellent eyesight, and can see me perfectly well;
and as soon as that thought entered, he flew right over me, close enough
to completely gaze at one another.
I mean it really made me laugh, for here was awareness and instantaneous connection at its best.

The bird has come before, especially when it senses I am comfortably
locked into contentment, and just silently glides along,
performing an in tune rhythmic dance replicating how I feel.

sunrise calling

small circles
golden eagles
smell of cold
winter’s play

sunrise falling
feathers calling
smoke-rings drifing
summits lifting

all our dreams
are here today

Standing at the Threshold

A few years ago I found myself standing in my closet, madly searching for clean clothes in a last minute attempt to pack before yet another business trip, when I noticed my 4-year old son standing at the entrance. In one hand, he held a small blue wand, in the other — a plastic bottle of soapy water. “Dada,” he said, looking up at me, his eyes wide open, “do you have time to catch my bubbles?”

Time? It stopped. And so did I. At that moment, it suddenly made no difference whether or not I caught my plane — I could barely catch my breath. The only thing that existed was him and that soulful look of longing in his eyes.

For the next ten minutes, all we did was play — him blowing bubbles and laughing. Me catching and laughing, too. His need was completely satisfied. His need for connection. His need for love. His need for knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that absolutely everything was perfect just the way it was.