Have you ever stood still and listened to snow melt among the pines?
And the Whisper from a friend, also listening, “The sound of wonder.“
A coloring book purchased for my clients. It arrived today. A gray, wintry, sleet filled and cold day. Night is crossing the threshold. A long week and I am tired. Perhaps I should color one just to test drive it before I offer…..
Knowing so much paperwork was waiting before the day begun, I opted to leave my quiet morning early. With the computer finally booted, coffee next to the monitor, I glanced at the clock. Not possible! How could so much time have zipped by…..
The wind suspended the hawk’s flight. His body frozen mid air without resistance. No thermals to lift him up or carry him forward. He hit a wall of wind and perfectly still he waited. Long before my eyes could see the darker hawk I…..
Even concrete and glass were stilled by the setting sun. But then, they too are elements of the earth once alive and nourished by the sun. Just a red light pausing my journey home. A whisper to look to my…..
I may feel like I am meeting myself coming and going. Sometimes to feel I never meet. It is in the pause of stillness that the portals and sculptures of beauty are created. There, I meet myself. I am home.
Nope, no one ever said the path came with GPS, exit signs, or even points of interest markers. Sometimes you can’t even see the trees for the forest. The reverse is likewise true. Maybe that is why so many wisdom teachings coax us…..
I pondered whether David could have had even the tiniest hint of what our technological and fast paced culture would be like when he wrote the 23rd Psalm. Two phrases jumped out as I did my morning reading: “He maketh me to…..
A discombobulated day. A longed for day of rest and yet no rhythm could be found. Weather said no to walking. Its no contained a maybe I didn’t see. And now the coffee pot has whispered the coffee is brewed and a mandala coloring book…..
A truce tonight between my eyes which struggle to see, my hand that has long forgotten how to write and my heart whose voice is truly in my writing. I found an old notebook and pondered what it would be like to write again….
“Hello my friend. I will try and write with a pen and paper and not the computer. Hello creator of my favorite word to describe my writing – ‘scrich’- the sound of my hand and the pen…..
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