Today and every day,
I vow to emulate the teachings
Of my chihuahua, Canis lupus familiaris,
Who awakens each morning
When it is simply time to awake,
And waits patiently for his beloved human
Who has already hit the alarm clock twice,
Complained about facing the world,
Hid her head under her pillow,
Afraid to meet the day and its heavy expectations,
Its dire possible outcomes,
Its perceived darkness under the great Eastern sun.
Today and every day,
I vow to emulate the teachings
Of my chihuahua
Who gazes upon my torment
With deep, abiding love
Becoming impatient only
When he has to pee
And then, when his business is done,
He returns to his ever-abiding gaze of love,
His loving snuggles,
Keeping patient company with my mind
Gently reminding me with tender nips and nuzzles
Asking only for me to see him
And finally start to play
When I am ready.
Today and every day
I vow to follow his teachings:
Awaken when time to awake
Breathe in and out
Eat when hungry
Drink when thirsty
Sleep when tired
Find a spot of sun when chilled
Leave those who are aggressive
If he meets them,
And seek those who seek love
And seek to share it
Doing what we do
When it's time to do it
In
Each
Perfect
Moment.
..And as I walked through the crystalline cold night
I gazed up at the heavens and sent out a prayer:
"Send me an omen, Great Spirit,
A brilliant message of your power,
A sign that you know that I have opened my heart to you...
A luminous message of your presence."
I waited, neck craned up to the stars
Awaiting my personal star shower, my divine comet
Dancing stars sparkled at me, bemused.
I counted to ten and threw out my arms
Ready to receive my celestial assurance,
But was answered only by a whisper of a cold breeze
That shivered the dry oak leaves.
As I walked toward shelter, head down and dejected,
The words emerged clear and strong:
"What more do you need, when I have given you:
This crystalline night, this perfect air, these dancing stars?
What more can I give, than your skin to tingle, your lungs to breathe?
Do you not see that the shooting star, the divine comet you seek,
Is but you yourself?
Why do you not bound gloriously across the sky?"
Freedom
Isn't more space, nor more time,
Nor better health, nor self-perceived wisdom
It's peace with or without such states of being
It's acknowledging them in oneself
And in others
Exactly as they are
Whether they have been revealed yet
Or not.
It's the compassion
And love
For oneself and for others
Raging and suffering
In their very real pain
The pain of perceived lacking
The pain of helplessness
The pain of the breaking body
The pain of the churning mind
The pain
In its absolute and blunt forthrightness
As we learn, clumsy and fragile,
To pay attention,
As it points the way
To the bright clear moon.
And when the moon is muddied by bold black clouds,
Lo!
Rest there too, mouth agape.
Dear and wondrous clouds,
Stark and perfect moon,
How would we ever wake up
Without you?
Today I reflect on living Mother.
A mother is loving.
May I always live love.
May you always live love.
A mother is strong.
May I always believe in my own power.
May you always believe in your own power.
A mother is capable.
May I always feel self-worth.
May you always feel self-worth.
A mother is human.
May I always practice self-care.
May you always practice self-care.
A mother protects and nourishes.
May I always help others.
May you always help others.
A mother holds the world in her heart.
May my heart be full and strong
May your heart be full and strong
We are all mothers.
Together, the world
And all Her beings
Watching out for one another,
One mother to another,
Will be saved.
Bird chirping.
Now done.
Now gone.
Dog barking
Once
Twice
Thrice
Silence.
Shadows
Sun
Clouds
Moods
Thoughts
Infinitely transforming
Rebirthing
Now gone
Now born
Now gone
At the same time.
What's next?
I don't know.
Oh, this.
Then what?
I don't know.
Ah, This!
And then?
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
Freedom!
With thanks to Mickey Singer, Dharma Talk 11/21/16
It is when I think
I am the wisest
That I know best
That I figured it out
And I am right...
I must start again
And remember
With utmost confidence
With a deep breath of relief
Without a trace of self-loathing
With a gentle soft mind
With a receptive heart
That it's
Probably
Just
Not
True.
And then
At last
I can freely
Grow
Deepen
Experience
Live
Love
Bit
by
Bit.
Make room
Every leaf
So deeply veined, green
Make room
Every drop of sweat
So cooling, wet
Make room
Every breath
So deep, nourishing
Make room
Every thought
So dynamic, impermanent
Make room
Every emotion
So visceral, personal
Make room
Every anxiety
So fluttering, uncomfortable
Every fear
So paralyzing, heart thumping
Every pain
So wincing, sharp
Every wounded cry
So heart wrenching, unbearable
Every death
So full of grief, life
Make room
For the unfathomable abundance
Of this very moment of your vital Self
Make room
Empty the vessel
And let it all all all all all all
Shine through you.
--Shana Smith
This warm morning sun.
This chorus of frog celebration.
These joyous playful birds.
This tender hint of a breeze,
This dancing early summer,
Like a warm loving hug.
What else is there?
Didn't I have so much to think about?
There is a long list to attend to, isn't there?
"Ribbit!"
"Caw!"
"Swish..."
Comes my reply.
"But these things are important.
Very, very important."
On cue, an owl chimes from the cool dark woods:
"Who?"
"Pay attention!" came the words from whomever was around...the colleague wanting my ear, the random friend telling a story...
Oh, but I am!
"Put-put-put" come the pops of tiny little tadpoles, pre-frog mouthlets piercing the pond surface and practicing for air.
"You're off in another world!" came the words from nearby voices.
Yes, yes, the real world. Vibrant, alive!
"Blip blip blip" went the bubbles as they gasped free and clear at the surface.
"You're not listening!"
But did you just hear THAT?
"Swisshh" is the sound...I can hear it! Of the filamental olive colored algae, wisping in miniscule currents of pond movements.
This world, how can one not pay attention?
How can one not hear?
How can one not melt into the sway of corn stalks in a gentle breeze,
Let go the way a dandelion releases a tuft as if in blessing?
And what of the words from the others, the urgent, thought- and idea-filled words that they want me to hear?
Engulfed and consumed in this wondrous world, I cannot separate even from those.
Speak, friends, and I will try to listen.
But if the sound of the ant tumbling down a graveled dirt hill booms too loudly, please understand.
Fierce.
Compassion.
I would release the unbridled roars
That would shatter the crystal chandeliers
Of the fat rich supremacists
My power would incinerate
Their yachts and mansions and egos
If I knew how
Not to hurt them
Or anyone
If I knew how
To open closed hearts
If I knew how
To give all they hoarded back
to those with no homes or health or hope,
With broken bones and hearts
If I knew how
To shield the tender ears and hearts
Of the children
And all pure beings
Who need not ever know
how scalding and expansive
My fire can burn.
She is rising
And I'm a little scared of her too
So I let each skillful breath
Bring me Back to Only Love
To bridle the wild fury that stirs
While allowing
This inferno
To find her proper purpose
To burn wisely and capably
To wield her power of compassion
Of Love
Of Wisdom
Of Peace
Of Equality
Of Harmony
Beyond comprehension.
I don't know what she will look or be like yet, but
She
Is
Changing.
I
Am
Ready.
Chirp. Swish. Crack.
Green. Red. Sunshine. Shadow.
World
Absorbing Everything
Absorbing
World
Sounds
Absorbing
Me!
Absorbing
Absorb
Abs
A!
Rivers and Oceans
Floods of tears
Bubbles of laughter
Boundless, alive,
Gone.
Freedom
Isn't more space, nor more time,
Nor better health, nor self-perceived wisdom
It's peace with or without such states of being
It's acknowledging them in oneself
And in others
Exactly as they are
Whether they have been revealed yet
Or not.
It's the compassion
And love
For oneself and for others
Raging and suffering
In their very real pain
The pain of perceived lacking
The pain of helplessness
The pain of the breaking body
The pain of the churning mind
The pain
In its absolute and blunt forthrightness
As we learn, clumsy and fragile,
To pay attention,
As it points the way
To the bright clear moon.
And when the moon is muddied by bold black clouds,
Lo!
Rest there too, mouth agape.
Dear and wondrous clouds,
Stark and perfect moon,
How would we ever wake up
Without you?
Copyright © 2019 Oak Tree In the Garden - All Rights Reserved.
Powered by GoDaddy