The Great Heart

Light dancer

If we demand enlightenment, it hides. . . All that we can do is make ourselves enlightenment-prone.  We learn to treasure the possibility of awakening in all moments and circumstances.  We learn to simplify and cultivate the receptivity of heart that can be touched by profound understanding.  We learn to listen deeply and discover stillness amid the movement in our world.

~ Christina Feldman

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Ripples of light

Early this morning

Whenever someone awakens fully,
it effects human consciousness
at a collective level.
It is like dropping a stone
into a dark murky pond.
Ripples of light!
Not one word need be spoken.

~ Leonard Jacobsen

I’ll tell you how the sun rose
A ribbon at a time. . .

~ Emily Dickinson

The music.  🙂


I am grateful

Morning stripes

Everything is a gift.  Grateful living is a celebration of the universal give-and-take of life, a limitless yes to belonging.

~ David Steindl-Rast

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A walk in the rain

A glimpse of the pond (and the rain) through the wisteria vines

This morning I woke up to a steady mizzle (mist and drizzle).  I love walking in the misty rain.  There is something magical about it.  It’s almost as good as fog with its dream-like qualities.

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Magical Monday

Misty sunrise

When we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children, when we know love in our hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet, Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash — at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the “newness,” the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, all these provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance.

~ Thomas Merton

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All the news

Hitching post, standing stone, and stairs in the fog

The large print giveth, but the small print taketh away.

~ Tom Waits, Small Change

It’s been interesting times.  I brought some of the fog photos from Wednesday morning to show you while I tell you all about it.  Well, maybe not all about it.  Some about it.  I don’t think anybody wants to hear (read) all.

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Spun gold

Draped in gold

This was not a good morning to sleep in.  If I had slept in, I would have missed the fog and the early morning sunlight shining on the dew in the meadows, turning the spider webs into spun gold.  Even Rumplestiltskin couldn’t have done it better.

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