Moving Day

Moving day.  I have watched the squirrels gather twigs and scamper off to the nests they must be building. I have watched the quilted clouds pull back the covers and play peek-a-boo with the blue sky.  I have sat and given thanks for this sacred space where my scriches have posted. I have given thanks to you who have stopped to read. You have been the rhythm of nature for my little heart and I am graced.

 As I move my little musings to their new home I leave a poem by Mary Oliver. May it be my little blessing for each of you.  If you ever should pause and wonder what difference you make in life, be assured your question has been profoundly answered by the grace and kindness you have gifted me. With a deep bow, my hands to my heart thank you.

A new Facebook page has been created: https://www.facebook.com/whispered.grace. My hope is that you will share your own simple joys and whispers. Yes, please.

My simple little musings will now post to http://www.whisperedgracebook.com/. If you have subscribed by email, you can do so there as well.

Moving day….. the journey continues.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

Mary Oliver, Dream Work, Grove Atlantic Inc., 1986 & New and Selected Poems, Beacon Press, 1992.

Heart Transformer

I was reading Thich Nhat Hahn’s words this morning of transforming the past. But are we not told we cannot undo the past? The past is transformed by how we respond to it in this moment, the present, now.  That thread led me to ponder how a baby learns to walk. They do not see the thuds and plops back to the earth their shaky legs create. Oh, there may be tears, bruises and owies, but sometimes they even laugh. Either way, they begin again. Something inside calls them to walk and they do. Today, I walk here and there without even giving it a thought. I am here and suddenly I am there and never do I recall the bumps, bruises, thuds, and plops of learning to walk. The past transformed in the present, this moment, now. Tis a whisper easily dismissed as the challenges today seem far greater than simply learning to walk. But if we truly knew and appreciated the intricacy of the muscles, brains, and total restructuring of how we see, move, and think that occurs when we learn to walk, is the difference that great?

The whisper made me sigh and then suddenly I thought of the orchid bud and wondered if it had opened. Had the bud learned to walk? Had the bud transformed the past of simply a seed and a bump into a gorgeous flower? And there she was. Oh yes, more opened than yesterday but today a gift I did not expect. My dog thought an intruder had come into the house; such was my squeal of delight. And then I simply sat and stared. Transforming the past in this moment now, is imprinted with and within the heart.

A Dream Goes to Sleep

What do you do when a dream dies? Can a dream die? Does waking up put a dream to sleep? Today, officially when I press “post,” a dream will have died or gone to sleep. Sometimes metaphors escape me. Winter’s trees are starting to bud.  For now, they stand naked, vulnerable; some would even call them stark. You can see their broken, bent, and misshaped branches.  One could even say, against the blue sky they stand with a dignity spring and the glory of autumn will never know.

My journey has been like winter’s trees. Unlike the dignity with which they stand, I preferred to hide in the canopy of spring. I have written of nature’s whispers, the simple joy of being alive, and the wonder of this gift called life. I am, very much, a simple child at heart.  It has been a journey of affirming healing long sought. The losses have been great both personally and collateral damage. And still, with childlike trust I keep walking the path and gathering the tapestry’s threads.

One whisper, one thread I could not hide from or ignore. And so, today, like winter’s naked trees, in one fell swoop the canopy of spring is disrobed.  The disrobing is swift as I tell any who may pause to read, that my little heart has put her whispers in a small wee book called Whispered Grace. Simple scriches. Some you have read here. A website/blog has been created and launched today:  http://www.whisperedgracebook.com/

I do not know how to or if I will continue to use the two blogs or migrate to one. How does one leave a home like this that has been my sanctuary and mantra…affirming healing. My hope would be somehow a Facebook or page where others can record the whispers they hear during the day, to describe their own winter and spring tree dance. I began this space so that others would know they were not alone. The path, is in truth, well worn. Logistics are logistics. I only know today a dream has died or gone to sleep. For though I wrote so that others would know they were not alone, I dreamed I could remain alone and hidden, not even using my name to identify the one who posted.

And so….. Hello. My name is Beth Chapman. I like to walk in nature. Sometimes nature whispers gifts of hope. Sometimes nature makes me laugh. I am so far from perfect you’d probably shudder but I try. Sweet mercy I do try. I have been on a long long journey dreaming I could stay hidden and out of sight. And so I step out and offer my heart like nature’s winter trees. I know my writings seem childlike and sometimes see joy and possibility in a world that would say naught. But still I believe. Still I trust. Still I laugh in awe and delight. And still I know none of us are alone. Now, to live awake with healing affirmed in whispered graces. Hello… my name is Beth Chapman and I've written a wee tiny book that I dreamed could not, would not ever happen. Another dream put to sleep. And my heart is laughing.

With hands to my heart and bowing deeply, Namaste.

Trail of Joy

And let it be known, that yes, I join the trees in their dance of life. May all others join who travel upon the trail of my life.

Present Presence

Nature has never failed to delight my heart when I go and seek her sanctuary. Sometimes, though, when I just go to go without asking or needing, those are the times I notice...she has a seat waiting for me. May I always have eyes to see Life's welcome.

Life in Totality

I was pondering the preciousness of the moment as it was, the simple abundant moment of now. There is nothing I can do to change the past. The future cannot be held. All I have is this one moment. To meet it fully alive and aware. Looking up, there she was. The grace of the moon mid afternoon beautifully haunting against the blue sky. The illumination of dark sharing the illumination of day. With a smile and chuckle, what better image of meeting life in its totality, this moment, now.

Future Attraction

I wonder if my reliance on my GPS has spoiled me. Sometimes the path plays tricks on our eyes when we try so hard to see. We seek clarity, a road map, points of interests and warnings of construction ahead, a voice saying our exit is 300 feet ahead. Though I admit, I have no idea what 300 feet looks like when driving.

Sometimes what you see just doesn't make sense, or perhaps it is only a peak of what is. The photo is untouched, it is what I saw. And like the path, I have to laugh and trust what I saw is a future attraction waiting to reveal.

Diamonds

For those who have endured such a winter, a meager and already melting half inch of snow is not exactly breaking news. But here where the mountains have been shrouded in dust, last night gifted rare and precious diamonds. Even the droplet contained a lake. Abundance.

I can see so many metaphors of life. I can see so many ways to take this droplet and weave it into my moving through life. But this morning, this drop, this diamond waiting to fall upon the waiting earth is simply that. To appreciate and give thanks for a droplet as it is.

Setting Day

Setting days. That's what my grandmother called them. Can't say you've done much and yet the day was full. Like noticing how the shadow of a tree resting upon the side of a house bends as it lays down on the roof. Or watching a raven call out to others that the seed has been served. Is it the same raven each day? A different raven? I cannot tell them apart. Would that I were gifted to notice this raven as distinct from others. I cannot and yet he or she is. I need to practice. Maybe that's what setting days are all about. Noticing what you can and noticing what you can't. But setting equals noticing. I guess that, in the end, is what makes the day full. Yes grandma, it is sweet.

Clarity to See

I, who am never far, if ever, from my camera, passionately avoid all photos of self. But the email inquired as to how my failing eyes were doing and after giggling I could not resist. I know as long as they gift the sight of compassion I shall have clarity. For what is 20/20 if I cannot see the heart, pain, joy, and potential in either myself or another? And so I attached the picture with a little happy face icon and replied... Boo! I see you.

A Smile Alive

Have you ever felt your face smile?

I fed the birds and came inside hoping the promised light snow would come and coat the drought hardened earth that had known only the shroud of blowing dust. I don't remember walking to the window, but there I was. I saw the birds hopping and fluttering around the feeder. And suddenly I felt my face smile. I could feel every muscle move, the eyes change and the body melt. Visceral and sensual as if another had touched my body, I felt the smile. No explanation needed. And the snow began to fall.

May I so Push

The morning greeting to the plants in the sun room and to turn on their gentle music for the day. As the curtains were pulled I explained had lots to do would not be able to sit and chat right now. Deadlines were awaiting. A gentle whisper to pause and look. An orchid's bud pressed against the stem. Sitting down, I did not rise until an hour later. To do what I must, push where required, but always to do so with the gentle strength of an unopened bud.

Gather no more

"I've asked for forgiveness. I've owned my wrongs. But how can I ever undo all that I've done?" Her question still rings in my heart. I could only reply that we cannot undo. To try is to become immersed in quicksand. We can only go forward in love and gather no more. "But what if the consequences come back to haunt me?" There may be consequences but love and acceptance know no ghosts.

A stranger's question. A stranger's reply. Why I leave this here I am not sure. Another thread perhaps in the tapestry that knows there are no strangers when the heart seeks to gather no more.

Dribbling Now

An image shared the other day returned with such delight and a twist. And if I say I love hot dogs and later say I love you....Would you see yourself squeezed between two buns and smothered in ketchup, mustard and relish? Or would you see the abandon and playfulness I experience eating a hot dog, and the joy of dribbling mustard and ketchup as I forego convention and immerse in the delight of the experience, this moment fully lived and alive with you?

Turning to Hear

I walked with the dancing wind roaring in my ears. I wanted to hear the trees dance and would turn my body til I heard the ocean tree waves cresting and falling with the wind. I laughed. Then I pondered how in turning to hear, my view had changed. To hear I had to turn my body. With the gentle sound of wind and trees I wondered if the trees had been a person, would he or she think I had turned away? Would they think the turning of my body meant I was not listening? In truth, I was not turning away, I was in fact turning so that I could intently hear and feel every word and sound.

I know to some, my journey seems as confused and tangled as the thicket of trees. I know some think I turned away when I sought my heart. They did not, do not know, how hard the turning to hear was and has been. Nor how intently and beautifully I can hear their songs and words...and my own instead of the roar. They do not see what waited for me in the thicket's beautiful and mysterious tangles. I too almost missed. But in turning to hear...it waited to greet. I had to enter the thicket. I had to turn to hear.

As Is

The dance of the drought hardened earth's dust and wind shrouding the mountain, in so many ways, took my breath. The invisible made visible. The visible almost invisible. And as my fingers touched the dust resting upon my face, I had to giggle and wonder in awe, "Where my friends have you come from? How many miles and years have you traveled, now to kiss my cheek?" The wonder of the present moment, without story or judgement, simple awe.

To Turn not Run

Sometimes when I read world events or others share the pain inflicted in their lives, I do confess my heart feels despair. I do not understand cruelty. This morning the sounds of nature gifted Kabir's words that we do not have to run and seek gardens to see a flower, the gardens and flowers are all contained within our hearts.

I flinched...giggle. My heart too contains cruelty? Eeek. But yes, it does. All hearts are one. All life within. And as I opened my eyes the sun rested upon a single flower stem and I laughed. Oh yes, to acknowledge and be mindful of the ability to hurt, but to choose what I focus upon. To see the flower bent towards the sun and the tiny buds waiting to unfold and know the touch. A twist upon Kabir's words to think I do not have to run from or seek either. I have only to turn towards the sun. Today, today, I shall leave sun warmed pink petals for all and nurture the tiny bud within. A grand day indeed!

Gnarly Celebrated

Of all things held sacred and cherished, that I am not perfect is most dear. When I think of perfection and then the healing, joy, tears and sweat of growth of learning,and humanness, for now the latter is perhaps the sweetest. Giggle, like an orange it squirts you in the face.

Goggle'd Mind

The morning meditation burst into laughter. I realized my mind had gone Google on me and was returning 10,000+ thoughts and memories in 3.7 seconds. In my laughter I heard a sound. With a smile I shut the mind's browser down and listened to the birds.

Delighted Certainty

A morning gift as the coffee gifted a dance of steam and tiny droplets leaping in the air. My laughter joined the dance and swirled in awe. The certainty and clarity of life's path is neither possible nor necessary. What is certain, what is ever so clear....is the joy and awe when I pause and see.

True Voice

In joy and pain I have sat with others, and myself, and wondered what could I possibly say? Words seem so bulky. Then in the silence to know only the gift of 'thank you' to the little heart that feels and in truth, tis the only voice I need.

Morphing Acceptance

Acceptance. I do love the texture of words. Acceptance is a most mindful word. But, like the word "love" used so much I wonder if like "love" it has lost its texture. I recall a friend within a five minute span saying "I love this hot dog" and "I love you." I laughed to think of myself squeezed between two buns swimming in mustard, ketchup, and relish.

Today, I think I shall morph "acceptance" into "respect." I wonder if the world has woven "acceptance" into a burden to be carried and weighting us down under the load. To "respect" is to honor. Honor for what is. Its roots refer to relationship, regard, and literally to "look at." Ahhhh, to truly look at this moment, experience, feelings with relationship, regard, and consideration. Yes, I think today I shall practice respect.

Startled Soul

Sometimes I rub these precious failing eyes as they struggle to see and wonder how long the gift will be mine. Then to turn their gaze upward and see. Sweet mercy the gift, as it is, startles my soul with joy.

Now's Dare

The whisper so simple and yet it startled. Would I think that Source, God, the Divine or Creator would be content or desire to be put on hold til tomorrow, some day when, or if only this? This moment, right now, perfect as it is and abundant in its gifts and awe. Not even the tree's bud felt it had to wait for spring.

So May My Eyes

In the midst of winter's gray, a brown leaf, lifeless, by all accounts, and ready to return its form back to the earth. And yet its image brought me to a complete stop. Lifeless? Colorless or at the least drab? Crumpled and fragile? The sun's gentle touch thought otherwise and illuminated its beauty. So may the light of my eyes upon all life.

The Moment's Inherent Awe

The moon last night so amazing in her veil of clouds dance. The clouds were not hiding her light nor were they making her beauty greater. It was simply the moment, the wind, and position of clouds and moon. She was no less beautiful in her solitary stance much higher in the sky. Oh that I, and all, could embrace such beauty, truth, and joy. No moment needing more. No moment ever less. Sweet mercy the awe of Life’s perfect dance.

Unnoticed Day

That our hearts and love were such that this day would go unnoticed. Simply another day of love's outpouring.

Not Absent

So many hues, shapes, textures, and designs. Mountain clouds and runways for cloud planes to takeoff. The earthbound mountains like a stadium filled to watch the spectacle unfold.

Oh if you could but have been there to see and feel the morn and hear the gentle music playing as the sky danced. And then a sweet smile of knowing....close your eyes and breathe softly. You were. You are.

The Gift Received

Have you ever seen a ghost from the past? An image of one long ago who could not, should not be there as you drive past but you know, believe, that the image is not a ghost? How quickly our minds and brains engage and flood all senses and emotions. Time loses its boundaries and there all is once again.

I sat on my cushion and pondered the ghost. Gently I whispered “I welcome you fear. I welcome you courage. I welcome you love. I welcome you pain. I welcome all that is right now and all that was.” A while back I wrote that no one leaves holes in our hearts, they are but kneeling prints where a gift was laid. Did the ghost carry that same belief?

Perhaps I am at last the perfection they once dreamed. Perhaps the failures were only perceived. More likely, and in truth, I am the person I am now. There is no forgiveness necessary. There is only absolution. I simply am me and the me I am has been shaped by the ghost.

I opened my eyes in time to see a feather dance its way to the ground. A gentle smile and I went outside to retrieve. As I approached, the feather the playful wind scooped it up. The feather danced away. A gentle tear of joy and my hands went to my heart. I bowed in grace. I bowed in joy. I bowed as I am. No need to chase….the gift had long ago been received.

Dormancy's Dance

Last year's growth says to the cold and moisture "Come and rest upon me." What some might see as dormant and without life transforms the two into one. A resting place for life. Dormancy's dance with life.

What It's All About

In the morning I do enjoy festive uplifting music after meditation. This morning I wanted to sing and sought a song to capture the joy in my heart. I wanted my song to be the sun on a gray fog shrouded morning. I was amazed how many songs I think of as festive but it is the beat not the words that makes my body laugh. I would listened to the words and wince, giggle.

And as my little dog jumped about, enjoying the dance of music, I surrendered my search. Went to youtube and typed in the name of the song that teased me. My little dog and I danced about the house gifting sun, change, joy, and laughter to the foggy morning, the world, the earth, and all. We put our right foot in, we took our right foot out, and with giggled joy we turned ourselves about. We did the hokey pokey of laughter and life. After all, that's what it's all about......

Mirrored Whisper

I know it will melt. Its melting is simply transforming. Its transformation nurtures the earth with drink. The cracks gift its beauty. The shades of light and dark, smoothness and grit gift texture and shape. Would my life be any different?

Invitation

The curtains closed to separate the outside cold from the warmth inside. Yet the prism cloaked behind the curtains gifts a gentle reminder. To know every moment is an invitation to be open and see.

Gauntlet of Intent

Every child knows the parental voice of "We'll see" actually means "No." The dreaded "We'll see" that drops a child's shoulders. No way you can argue with "we'll see" as the gauntlet of "no" has not been tossed.

In a similar way I pondered how "intention" has been transformed. "He had good intentions." "I intended to..." It has also become a gauntlet-less no, a way to avoid the challenge. And the simple prayer that I may not go through life like a crab with my eyes set one way but my body moves another. That my intent and intentions will be deliberately set like the stones in a river. To accept the effort and the concentration. To be true to my heart and know the joy of "walking" on water trusting the stones of intent.

Exquisite Heartbreak

If I could but possibly grasp the enormity, vastness and fullness of IS I think surely my heart would burst. Oh sweet mercy may I crumple to the ground like children spinning and dancing then falling to the ground laughing. 

May I live to know the exquisite heartbreak of joy imploded.

Nurture embedded

The image of the tree is embedded in the leaf. What was to be became and now is. The image true to its source yet the leaf is unlike the tree. The leaf is unlike all other leaves. With winter's rhythm both leaf and embedded source will return to nurture what is to be, what has become, and what will be.

May all see the image of Life and Love embedded in my presence and uniquely expressed. And may each breath, word, thought, and deed be as giving as the tree held within the leaf.

Life's Perfect Timing

The litany of items I could list that delayed my return home. To see the mountains and winter's trees gifted a drive of soft gentle sweet tears. The list continued upon my return as I tried so hard to get out and walk with nature's mountains and trees.

Finally, just before sunset I scurried out. My heart so wanted to say thank you for nature's presence that traveled with me. As I rounded the bend, there she stood. As if she had been patiently waiting. We just stood and spoke in silence. Slowly she walked back into the mountains. I bowed and watered the drought hardened earth with my tears. The whisper so gentle...there are no delays or detours if I but listen with my heart and look to see what waits for me.

Nature's Cake and Candles

Some birthdays and celebrations are welcomed with cakes and candles. Others are welcomed alone with a quiet stillness and gentle sparkling light. Nature's soft shroud or shawl that offers a slight but strong touch of presence.

Fear is courage waiting to be seen. Weariness is but strength waiting to curl like an ocean wave. Home is but familiarizing the unknown. And the gentle snow falling like streaking candles, the diamond sparkles glistening in the night, is the celebration and birth of Now. I have now walked 240 seasons and none more precious than the one birthed with this breath.

Whispered Touch

The journey still incomplete. Ten minutes from landing, the plane had to return to where we boarded. The weather would not permit us to land. Perhaps it is fitting that instead of being home tomorrow, when I celebrate six decades upon this earth, I shall be in airports, planes, and a two hour drive home...if we land. I confess my shoulders fell and a few tears ran down my cheeks when the pilot informed us.

Standing in awe at the tree in front of an unexpected hotel layover, I noticed the leaves. Even more amazing the wispy white roots of the tree. Life. Signs of winter, fall, and even spring. Wispy roots reaching out to touch the sun while others are buried deep within the earth. Arrivals can be departures. Departures can be arrivals. Turn arounds can be a wide open roadway. Layovers can be a bountiful buffet of stillness and new sights. To seek the path of a life alive and open heart is not to expect all detours to vanish all obstacles to disappear. It is simply to see the colors and rhythm, and even the roots of a might oak peaking out and whisper, "All is well. All is well." And so it is. Sweet mercy it is.

Feathered Migration Home...Again

The journey is complete. I return back to my mountains and little hobbit house tomorrow. Nature had been sweet and gifted me ten feathers. Having met the amazing hearts of my peers I returned nature's gifts by gifting each one, all ten to my peers. Each feather was received with such a gentle soft heart and eyes.

Saying goodbye to the river front and city lights I turned to walk back to the room as the sun bid good night to the day and the journey. The sea gull's cry made my heart dance. I knew the whisper. Looking down, was a feather of my own. In giving we truly do receive so much more, I would not have returned empty handed. But nature had one more feather that would travel with me. A gentle whisper, though the dream has been realized, the flight has just begun. A new path awaits. Like the migrating geese, I am going Home.

Mirror Hearts- No Story Required

Sometimes an image gifts so many whispers to my little heart. I confess this is one. Each rotation of the image created a different whisper, affirmation, and heart thread. At last I settled upon this view. Neither image or reflection tops the other. They are, in truth, parallel bridges of time and life.

The panhandler walked away $20 richer. A stranger approached me and said "You know his story was a scam." Smiling I turned toward the stranger, with this image firmly fixed in my heart. With gentle eyes I met his own and with a soft voice replied "Oh I don't care about the story, just the man."

Affirmed Affirming Healing

In that one moment all paths merged into one. No past. No future. No journey getting here. No journey remaining to get somewhere else. Quietly, with such simple ease, my heart sighed.  I knew I had not returned home. I had become home. All that had come before and all that awaits will find an open door and the welcome mat of Now.

I will not change the name, it is indeed precious. But in that one moment when the heart sighed, the whisper was heard, "Affirmed Affirming Healing."

More AND enough

Wondering how I would gather it all in. How to gather the random threads and see the tapestry that awaited. It seemed overwhelming and somewhat daunting. I paused and looked down to see the small acorns gathered round the oak tree. How small they looked. Indeed, how fragile. And yet, like a mother, the oak tree seemed to have gathered them together. "Look little ones, look and see. Tis more than what you are, and yet that is enough. You must see with the eyes of the seed, the eyes of the roots, and the eyes of the sun. Look little ones, tis more than what you are now, and yet, that is exactly what is necessary to become."

Completion

I stood with the buffeting wind pondering the long day. Away from nature's sanctuary, a strange city. Dazzling lights, though beautiful, hid the natural glimmering of the stars. "Breathe. Breathe." I missed my mountains. I missed the stillness and quiet. Closing my eyes I listened to the whisper to simply breathe. Lifting my head towards the sky I opened my eyes. Greeting me softly was the image you see. I am sure those walking passed me wondered what was so funny as I laughed out loud. There, beside one longing for nature's soft cradle, was the very thing I sought but did not see. A simple tree singing with the wind.

Was it the trees I longed for? The chorus of leaves? Or perhaps simply to breathe and know the end of desire and longing, was both birthed and completed within me.

Neither Up Nor Down-Simply There

Sometimes I do smile at Life's sense of gentle humor. How often to think a change of perspective is needed. Yesterday, as the plane flew so many thousands of feet in the air, I looked out and there were my precious mountains waving above the clouds. So many days, looking up, I stood in awe at how they pierced the clouds. That moment, looking down, not up, the vision was the same. 

Sometimes we try to over analyze, sometimes to think a change is needed, sometimes to ask "Oh please life grant more clarity!" And there stood the mountains, the same whether looking up or looking down. A gifted smile, to know strength, awe, beauty, and courage are so constant. No digging, no clinging or discarding, no effort required. To trust the instinct within the heart.... it is there my child, right now, where and as you are.

True Art

I did not know what to say when her tears fell and then my own to see the pain. I only knew each tear was a thread uniting all in the tapestry of Life. The fear was but Love's palette spilled of its richness upon the canvas of the heart. And both were framed in silence sung.

Dark's Light

Sometimes the dark, even when looking at a dream, makes us long for just a bit more light. We think more light would give clarity. What you cannot see in the image, is how once the artificial car lights were turned off, the brilliance of the sunset upon the lake and mountains exploded. In truth, I wasn't in the dark at all.

Exposure Nailed

Life always nails us. The big nails somehow seem to wake us up. The little nails either go unnoticed because we've become numb to the pain or we fail to notice the gift. Either way, when we're nailed we bleed.

What is interesting is that our blood is not red until it is exposed to air, to the outside world. The essence and flow of our life changes when exposed.

Removing the rock from my shoe and rubbing the bloody blister made, the dance of the sun caught my eye. The rock, though little, was as much a part of the mountain as the big boulders. In fact, the boulders, even the mountains would fall were it not for all the little rocks that hold them in place. I placed the rock bearing a dab of red not blue blood back upon the trail side. Life always nails us. Bowing to the dance of sun and tree, I whispered the welcome for all nails and rocks to expose and transform what is inside of me. To see not nails or rocks, but the ladders, support, and mountains they create and sustain.

Gift of Within

The truth is, no one will ever truly know the beauty of our heart. No one will ever know the strength, the courage, the love, and wisdom. Nor can we truly know theirs. But the beauty and joy in that truth is that when we look and see, the world, life and love itself is made alive. We look within so that the without is blessed.

Union's Garden

Doubt is but the resistance of the soil to the seed. Life is their union.

Done.

When I think of the litany of items about my body I would change I have but to look and realize there is only one. That I might have the eyes of my sweet companion or those of a child. Eyes that say "I am totally present with you, accept you, love you.....come let's play!" With eyes like that nothing else really matters. It is how I would see the world and the gift of beauty I would give.  Perhaps the true beauty of such eyes, is there whisper and mirror...the eyes are indeed mine. Giggle mark the desire and prayer done.

The Certainty of a Limp

When osteoporosis fractured both knees I was confined to a wheel chair for three months. Me, a hobbit who walks and walks like a sandpiper scurrying along the beach. But I knew I would walk and accepted the distraction of walking with my hands and wheels. I walk with a limp, the mountain rocks, inclines, and descent make the knees quiver trying to hold, but they have learned to laugh. Belief is something you were told. Faith, ahhhhh faith, is something you just know.