This Small Version of Now

Everything happens “now”.
The Attention Span is “small”.
This Small ….

(as if you know what you want …)
You grew up around the block
on some different corner
but you didn’t really grow up
and all your friends
who were not really your friends anyway
all left for college or took a different train
and now it looks like rain
or it doesn’t quite feel the same
and you’re stuck with one curious umbrella
but you’re self-conscious, and get soaked instead.
and through foggy glasses, everything looks like home
but you feel so very alone
(is that friendship up ahead, or just a different colored bed?)
and you know they want your money
but it’s looking kind-of funny
like you’ve been playing “monopoly” too long
and sold Park Place for a song
and you still don’t know the Real Estate
where you belong
because all Life’s Love
is hidden in a simple song
(and that song is inside of you)
but the broken cookies and colored balloons
spoke too soon

and so, your attention span is small.
“This small”.
(as if you know what you want …)
This Want.
This Voice.
This Train that goes nowhere …
Except Home.

Everything happens “now”.

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The Torrent

the torrent
rising sun in my house
dawn is dawn is dawn isdawn1.jpg

dawn is

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How to Listen to the Master


First of all,
give up everything you know
about listening –
it has nothing to do with your ears.
That kind of listening
will only take you so far.
If you really want to hear,
you will need to leave your ears at the door
and while you’re at it, your head.
Then, take a seat,
breathe deep,
let go
and become
a flower
opening to the sun.

Excerpted from The Heart of the Matter

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Going my own way, will lead to success;
I don’t have to wear fancy clothes, I don’t have to wear a dress:

Inside me is my direction to follow;
I stand on my own two feet, my pride, I don’t need to swallow:

The things that work for me, might Not work for you;
But probably you’ll find your own path, does that give you a clue?

I am not your leader, and not your master for sure;
But I have met The Man, who can reveal, your Most Perfect Cure!

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High Fives

Just back from a three day business training & networking conference. You know the drill: the tea-breaks, the rush to the toilet to avoid the queue, the water, the mints, the workbooks, your partner, your group, the speaker, the exchange of business cards, the best friends made. There were lots of high fives, sharing with my partner, sharing with my group, and even chair-surfing.

I laughed alot – thinking wistfully about another speaker who made me laugh alot. Oh, and the food was good. Last day, afternoon exercise: “If you were told that you only had 2 months to live, what would be the single most important thing for you Share with your group.” I was grateful I had an answer for this one: ‘I would appreciate every breath.’  Seven pairs of eyes on me and seven open mouths.

It’s the one thing we all have in common – breathing. More though, it’s the small, small, doorway to a deep and expansive world within. So unrecognized and unacknowledged: the breath. Something we take for granted, but without which nothing happens: no-one’s successful or famous or super-wealthy.

Deepest thanks to the giver of the Key to the knowing of my breath, a Key to something more vast and beautiful within me.  Now, that deserves a High Five.

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One Voice

I live in Woodstock, NY. After the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center, my wife, Evelyne, organized a daylong gathering in our town – “ONE VOICE” – of all religious groups and spiritual paths. Everyone was in attendance: the Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Rastas, Sufis, Atheists, Agnostics, the devotees of Gurumayi, and everyone else who felt the need to join together and acknowledge our common humanity.

What follows is the invocation I was asked to write and perform at this gathering. I hope you enjoy it. (Read it aloud for maximum value).

Today I speak with One Voice, here in this town known around the world for peace – a place now metaphor for the highest aspirations of the human race – Woodstock.

handworld.jpgWhat I have to say existed long before speech, long before teachers and those who thought they needed to be taught. I speak of the time before time, before “us” and “them” before otherness, separation, and the need to make amends. Pure presence there was back then, isness. First light. What the wise ones among us call by many names according to their faith, but it has no name, this “impulse to be,” this pulsation of life – what poets feel before they pick up their pens, why dancers, quivering in their own skin, look around the room for space in which to move.

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