Sick unto death

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It’s a damning process storing every thought , worry

tucked unfolded mostly

so the space feels empty, sterile to the curious.

No presence or joy

broken soul alone

though an open door of life nurtured love. 

No space for love or hate-tucked unfolded mostly,

muted and muffled by an unnatural shhhh…

 

Photo by Steve Garrington

Secret Pain

 

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Life lived slow mid thorns of fear, wounded weighted low,

Memories lost of journeys free before this path, this NO.

Gone the days of wonder’s laugh choked out by touching hurt.

Yet undeceived can eyes still see such beauty bright unthroned?

 Yes! seize and strain the light until with hope you can release

the tears flow down like rain

and grow the heart beyond this place.

For there the quiet secret pain remains embraced and thus refined,

breathed within a lover’s kiss,  a holy space divine.

Photography: eternitysphotography/wordpress.

Love’s silence

What I hear is an option. Even in choosing silence- I can hear. I listen….

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Sound is a space of being

Sound is a link to a moment in time.

It is tangible, functional, inviting.

As I separate the tones and attend to one over the other I learn and feel and know a new old something.

As the layers stream into my consciousness

I am reminded

I am comforted

I am loved.

Gesture

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What gesture best describes your greeting? Is it a simple head nod, a hearty “hello” with brief eye contact or a phrase expressing your view of the day and the encounter “good day to you” or “don’t you love the weather?”

I’m a head nod type of person– reflecting my focus to get on with chance moments and attack the day’s true calling. This stingy gesture says something important about my reluctance to be whole.

I miss the spiritual potential of gesture.

I miss the moment of life ordained for that encounter.  I am instead attached to an agenda – one that splits me from reality and the wonder of chance and change.

I don’t really believe church people do this better– though many practice it at least once a week. I am learning that the uninvested spirit of God in the ritual of a handshake and a caring hello harbors more grace than a sermon or ritualized amen.

My soul has wondered from stoned faced worship to see God in gestures meant to connect us on a journey –without an agenda but with a liturgy of embrace. My soul sees God in the moments I break free from form and risk greeting with the breath of a holy now.

 

 

 

Sweet spot

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“bittersweet” courtesy of Phillip Schwarz

A journey to stay connected and embraced leaves you vulnerable and obvious. 

You will not be strong all the time.

A journey to be present even among shame and pain leaves you broken.

You will not win.

A journey with the sun leaving for winter and then back again leaves you tired.

You will change.

A journey to find your place with strangers at the table will leave you hungry.

You will know–bittersweet.

On the pin

Living daily on the edge, the point of change and even chaos requires an ability to perceive and interpret beginnings.  Can you see something new happening from something old? Can you  hear the key change and move to an altered beat?

To do this every day is not sustainable without love and hope. Love creates the net that will catch you when you fall from the pinnacle and hope promises to set you back upright and in a new place.  

So on the head of a pin angels dance, moving to the beat of a love song — hopeful you will see them orchestrating your part in new spaces of beginning.