Behind the Urgency

This post is perfect for my theme today.
Be gentle with yourself ❤

LIVING IN THIS MOMENT

 Wisdom is a living stream, not an icon preserved in a museum.  Only when we find the spring of wisdom in our own life, can it flow to future generations. – Thich Nhat Hanh

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Softening Your Spiritual Practice ~

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Be soft in your practice.
Think of the method as a fine silvery stream,
not a raging waterfall.
Follow the stream, have faith in its course.
It will go its own way, meandering here, trickling there.
It will find the grooves, the cracks, the crevices.
Just follow it. Never let out of your sight.
It will take you. ~Sheng-yen

Photo at: http://www.morguefile.com/archive/

May This Be Our Prayer Today ~

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My main practice is to dedicate my body, speech
and mind to the welfare of others.
I hope to be able to continue to do this for some time yet.
My favourite prayer is:

“For as long as space endures,
And for as long as living beings remain,
Until then may I too abide,
To dispel the misery of the world.” ~ Dalai Lama

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645. And if tonight my soul may find her peace in sleep, and sink in good oblivion, and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower then I have been dipped again in God, new created. ~D. H. Lawrence

A perfectly beautiful reflection as I prepare for a few days of retreat time ~ to “fall into the deep silent waters” in order to be “stirred back to wakefulness.” Thank you Sacred Touches ❤

Sacred Touches

In slumber we fall into the deep, silent waters of consciousness, and then something, somewhere beneath the surface stirs us back to wakefulness. The same thing is happening now in my slumbering, wintry garden. A divine force or spark is stirring life back into seemingly lifelessness.

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A spark.  A flame.  A fire. A seed.  A plant.  A flower.  An egg.  An embryo.  A life. What is it that stirs matter and spirit?  What is it that stirs us?  What moves us?  What is it that makes life taste bitter or sweet upon the tongue?  What things do we feel that can’t quite be put into words?

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The following poem was written by Wallace Stevens. In it, his is the voice of questioning meant to refute religion/Christianity, and yet his images are the kinds of things that stir me in the opposite direction by rousing and impassioning my faith and belief…

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Mine Eyes Have Seen The Glory!

Peter

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my dearest husband on your
70th Birthday! Oh how I have cherished our years together.
Here is just one of your special moments.

Mine Eyes Have Seen The Glory!

It was 1965, 50 years ago this spring.
You had just turned 20, and I was 17.
We’d dated a few times and had been writing
letters to each other for a little over a year.

It was the year of the march to
Selma, Alabama; and there you were, in the midst of
making history.

You had gone off to Morehouse College, the alma mater
of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., on a student exchange program . . .
one of 3 white students at an all black college for men.

I wondered: “what was this tall, blonde, handsome, Scandinavian
guy doing – – going off to risk so much in these turbulent times?
What had awakened you to this movement for civil rights?” Continue reading