grasshopper prayer

pay attention all day

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

closet wisdom

At the beginning of this blog I said it was inspired by Jill. Here is yet another example of her beautiful vision. Her closet gets organised; she finds abundance. Like me, she doesn't allow comments, so I will comment here. Thank you, Jill. You gave me good tears this morning. I will try to see more clearly today. Thank you, Jill.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

faded beauty


still beautiful
you can use this noncommercially only and with attribution, please

Sunday, March 20, 2005

a man and his dog

Ben is dead and I want the world to stop. Ben walked his dog Friday night. He was crossing the street. A driver who may have been drunk honked but didn't stop, didn't slow down enough, hit Ben, hit the dog. Theo was killed instantly. Ben survived long enough to go to the hospital, where he died from his injuries.

Ben had a beautiful bass voice and a wide-reaching circle of family and friends. He worked for the Canadian AIDS society, sang with two groups, and loved dogs, especially Theo.

When someone dies, you want the world to stop, can't believe that it's still the first day of spring and the sun still rises. You can't believe that people are still laughing and yet at this time, more than any other, you, too need to laugh, need to feel spring, need to see the sun on the horizon. At this time above all others, you need hope...and it's always there.

may I find it soon; may it ever be so.

Monday, March 14, 2005

love take me now

I'm teary again. There this song.....

Love take me now, come hold me now,
and carry me over this restless field;
love take me now, move through me now,
and raise me up over this restless field.
-- LJ Booth


The nature of human love is a strange thing. Theists often hold it up against the love of God, musicians often talk about romantic love like it's the only one, mothers have nothing to compare to their love for their children, and yet so many people don't believe in it at all--like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny or the tooth fairy, gone with the innocence of childhood into the deep reaches of some bottomless vat of lost emotion.

I believe in love, although I don't believe in a sentient, intercedent god. The church I grew up in had a pulpit with "God is Love" inscribed on the front in bas-relief--at age 7 I managed to get it inside out and wonder if not believing in God meant that I couldn't believe in love, either, and for a while I didn't. I have claimed my innocence as I've aged.

Love is real. Love appears in my life all the time--when I'm fighting it, when I'm tired of it, when it isn't convenient, when it makes no sense, when it hurts more than anything except hatred or indifference. Love brings tears to my eyes when I can't cry, and brings laughter through the tears. Love moves, love transforms, love changes, love drives life. Oh yes, love is real. It is spiritual discipline to have faith, even faith in love, and it is spiritual discipline to allow it to guide my life. Does it sound like I'm talking about a god? Language is inadequate to heartspeech; we do the best we can.

prayer:
May my heart remain soft and open.
May I never close myself to love.
May I give and receive love freely.
May love to transform me.
May love remain present and vital in me all the days of my life.