life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the month “July, 2016”

one word 


find your word…

become it…

pour it out…

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this…


I always say we learn virtue by practicing not by thinking about it. I have been silently but actively observing the world around me paying attention to the subtle details and nuances of spoken and written words and the behavior and actions or inaction that trail them. Words are as much of a communicator of truths as they are of falsehoods. Time and time again human history has taught us that actions will reveal the essence of our intention. The honest but hard work of virtue lies in action. It acts upon the merits of thoughtfulness, sound judgement based on receptivity, cooperation, observation, broad mindedness and wisdom. It transforms, expands and evolves. Truth does not crown itself king amidst the utterance of words that are used to describe it. It only upholds to its reverence when it is purposefully active as it is so in nature. It differs greatly from the action of falsehood which only acts to benefit itself in a superficial accordance to judgements that are based upon reactionary egotistical self proclaimed righteousness, which is a bizarre tendency of human behavior. It loves to boast its declarations with repetitive renditions of words from a conglomerate array of them barely even scratching the surface of thier true meaning. The depths of truth is far beyond reach for those who proclaim falsehood as Truth. It’s a masquerading of words that don’t align with its corresponding action.
Truth is multilayered, multifaceted and complexed, a sort of breeding ground for simple truths that are free flowing through life right beneath the surface of reality. It is ubiquitous as space. Yet mainstream treads through a dense cloud of a fictional existence constantly trying to figure out the meaning of life and its purpose amid illusions in a perpetual loop.

🔁

 – Lisette Hesmadt


Preach it, teach it…wear it like a robe…

Breathe it, sniff it…take it to the road…

Hold it, form it…release, than sigh…

Belt it out…whisper it ….murmur the sound…

No silence, but stillness…

Find the paradoxes, hold the tension…

Walk the corridors until you miss it…and walk it again…

You are not mystic, nor healer…until your fear is all gone…

Baptize it, drown it…rise from the dead…

Then burn and burn…
Beauty,

Donna Knutson


TO BE READ IN THE INTERROGATIVE
Have you seen

Have you truly seen

the snow 

the stars 

the felt steps of the breeze
Have you touched

really have you touched

the plate 

the bread 

the face of that woman you love

so much
Have you lived

like a blow to the head

the flash 

the gasp 

the fall 

the flight
Have you known

known in every pore of your skin

how your eyes 

your hands 

your sex 

your soft heart
must be thrown away

must be wept away

must be invented all over again

💞

~Julio Cortazar


There is grace on ground like this

(we can say that every step we take

every day we live)

wherever we are is sacred ground

every bush we see burning holy

every rock singing glory 

every bird testament of trust

every tree drips abundance

every flower secure in extravagant love

every waterfall 

every rainbow

and moonbow

and drop of the summer rain

shimmers with promise

rocks standing firm in the faith

glittering in sunshine

we are made of stars

held together with a bit of mud

breathing the breath of the creator

made up of the very same matter as the universe

life / death our greatest gifts

the space between

will be shades of heaven 

or the darkest shades of hell

we choose our path with every decision

free will is our constant companion

choices…always choices 

our most important recognized awareness 

wake up 

guard them well

pay attention 

dance a lot

share the miracles 

strewn all along our way

💞

AL


Life is a gift, and it offers us the privilege, opportunity, and responsibility to give something back by becoming more.

   – Tony Robbins 


rest in the miracle that has always already happened!    – Fred LaMotte


When the world does not conform

to the story in my head

I get a feeling that

“something’s not right.”

Why is the story in my head

not down-loading properly?
Why do I sense that the world

needs to be fixed

and I must repair what is “wrong”

by imposing my story

onto the mystery

of the ineluctable?
Yet the world is not a problem.

The problem is

there’s a story in my head
but it’s not quite the same

as your story, is it?
And so there is conflict,

there is suffering,

even if our stories are about

salvation, about justice

and equality, the perfect

marriage, the cleanest

environment, or gaining

enlightenment…
Happiness cannot arise

if we slather the world in the thin

veneer of our narration.

Happiness is the dance

of atoms ordered by

the dynamics of chaos

in the heart of the now

when we let both story

and teller disperse

like a fine mist,
when we let things clarify

all by themselves

the way silt filters and falls

through a mountain brook

in liquid transparency.
Now rest in the miracle

that has always

already happened.

Just shut up and see.

A rain cloud vanishes.

There are crystal drops on

blades of grass, each containing

the sun.
💫

SOMETHING’S NOT QUITE RIGHT by Alfred LaMotte
https://www.amazon.com/Savor-Eternity-One-Moment-Time/dp/0996523146

Let us go forward quietly, forever making for the light…

   Vincent Van Gogh 

these anniversaries 

the marking of dates

building Ebenezer memorials 

from the stones of help

bringing me to this place

tasting again

the bitter herbs

the roasted lamb

the flat bread

the milk and honey flowing over everything 

the fresh dates and figs 

of now

sitting with this

bitter-sweet

sweet-bitter

this life

this love

this past

this practice 

this present 

this grateful 

that gratitude 

that changing

this constant

this birth

this death

this resurrection 

always this love

ah this love

just. 

this. 

love. 

always the path of thanks

always the gifts presenting 

along the diamond road

this is my tradition

my version of holiday 

each one

my best of days

my worst of days

feeling it wrapping around my senses

these memories clouds 

wrapping around me

enveloped from behind me

me always facing forward

always facing toward the rising moment just ahead

the path before me the most important 

always remembering,

along with that other Southern Belle…

tomorrow is another day…

the best is always yet to be! 

🗓

AL 7/23/16 gratitude/tradition


Life

                                    truly             

                            is beauty                

                    beauty                                     

           salted                                                     

        by rare moments                                           

of exquisite suffering.    
 Life

  truly             

    is suffering               

              suffering                                    

  peppered                                              

           by rare moments                                           

of exquisite beauty.    

         

🌹                   

Duality of Life Mug


there’s this summer song

of cool wind on my skin, 

playing sweet percussion through the tall, lush marsh grass

gentle water

invisible birds singing in surround sound

my heart resonates with the language we have spoken

the songs we have sung

the rich vibrations of our connection

over the past few days

the new sun warms my back

my shadow sits large

writing poems

this silence my gratitude

this morning my pleasure

this day my gift

this moment my life

thank you for reaching out 

for breaking through the darkness

for holding my hand
💞

AL


The worst isn’t the last thing about the world. It’s the next to the last thing. The last thing is the best. It’s the power from on high that comes down into the world, that wells up from the rock-bottom worst of the world like a hidden spring. Can you believe it? The last, best thing is the laughing deep in the hearts of the saints, sometimes our hearts even. Yes. You are terribly loved and forgiven. Yes. You are healed. All is well. 

     – Frederick Buechner 

      The Final Beast


Then I walked 

straight forward

out of the gate,

through the wood,

along the river,

toward the mountain
and I thought of the future

I could make in the world

if I walked toward it

like this,

with my face toward the hills

and my eyes full of light

and the earth sure

and solid beneath me,

walking

with a fierce anticipation,

and a faithful expectation,

with the sun and the rain

and the wind on my skin

and that old sense…

of many paths

breaking from one path.
So learning to walk

in morning light

like this again,

we’ll take our first 

light step

toward mortality,

walking

out of the garden,

through the woods,

along the river,

toward the mountain,

its simple,

that’s what we’ll do,

practicing as we go

and

we’ll be glimpsed, 

traveling westward, 

no longer familiar,

a following wave,

greeted, as we were at our birth,

as probable 

and slightly 

dangerous strangers,

someone

coming into view,

someone about

to find out.
Some wild 

and improbable risk 

about to break 

on the world again.
..
David Whyte

Adapted from LEARNING TO WALK

From RIVER FLOW: 

New and Selected Poems


be strong & be courageous   


I am heavy

Stepping with sand bag feet

Slow 

Hello life

In this dark day

I look for beauty

It’s always there

I wonder if I would have jumped or gone back to die

If I had really known how hard it would be

On and on

Do I really believe it will ever get better?

No answer comes

I move away from the question

I made my choice 

I  go curl up 

In the Legacy Garden

On the round plaque with Wendell Berry’s words of understanding 

      I part the out thrusting branches

      And come in beneath the blessed    and the blessing trees. 

Though I am silent 

There is singing around me. 

Though I am dark

There is vision around me. 

Though I am heavy 

There is flight around me. 

                –  Wendell Berry
Underneath the gondola’s painted ever-green leaves –

I wish there was a raven

Who cares if people see me?

🌑

AL – 12/3/12


I fell down,

Broken

Down beneath the curtain of a world that wasn’t mine
I fell down,

Hurting

Down under the pressure of a life I couldn’t find
Watching

Others

There were times that I felt nothing but the pain of being me
Watching

Wondering

Why and how and when would I be able to be free
I tried

Hiding

Nothing kept the darkness from surrounding me with grief
I tried

Crying

But nothing kept the demons that were haunting me
The fear

The aching

The desperation etched upon my heart in every beat
The scars

Appearing

Like a chain around my soul, stealing all I used to be
I sought comfort

I sought courage

I sought loving in the hands of those that only caused me pain

I sought refuge

I sought freedom

I sought counsel in the places that left me filled with guilt and shame
I fell down,

Broken

Down beneath the curtain of a world that wasn’t mine
I fell down,

Hurting

Down under the pressure of a life I couldn’t find
Then it came

The flicker

Of hope and understanding that I could be alive again
Then it came

A glimmer

The ember of the flame inside my heart began to shine
Watching 

Others

I looked inside their minds and saw that I was not the only one
Watching

Wondering

How I could share the message that all of us are one
I tried

Learning

Taking all the knowledge that the world gave unto me
I tried

Doing

And realized the healing came from giving all I had to give
The love

Replaced fear

My heart beats now for others and keeps me going on and on
The scars

On show now

Proving that with courage our soul can set us free
I give comfort

I give courage

I give loving to the ones of those that are only feeling pain

I give refuge

I give freedom

I give counsel to those needing me with kindness, without blame
I fell down

Humble

Down to show my gratitude for living life this way
I fell down

Thankful

Vowing to show others life is better every day

💔🔥❤️

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A remembering

December 3, 2012

a lifetime from then to now

Hello Life

echoing in the chambers

of empty shattered walls

of broken will

and weary traveling

worn and scarred

soldier of God

warrior of the light

no longer even able 

to pretend to carry the cross

just laying on it 

too tired to fight

with arms willingly outstretched

scorched and branded

by Your glory

carried into the ocean

of Your love

within the arc 

of silence

knowing I am 

undone

by ruthless grace

my life is Yours

and now I wait

for You

to part the waters

like only You can do

I burned to ash

completely consumed

now I rise 

the flame 

alive

🔥

AL


Beneath the shouting,

quieter and more steady,

listen for my voice. 

Be still, and listen.

You are doing a difficult thing.

And I am with you.

I have gathered up your life,

your triumphs and failures,

your powers and your weaknesses,

and I hold it all in grace.

You have died,

and your life is hidden in me now.

I bear your grief, 

the river of it flows through me,

and I am the spring it comes from.  

When you are alone I am the body 

that weaves you with everyone.

When you are discouraged

I bind your hope to you.

When you are weary 

I am your strength and breath,

the life that carries you.

When the road is rough and long 

I go onward,

and bear you in my love and wisdom.

Keep your mind on this.

Forget the little things.

Remember my presence.

Forget whatever you can cling to.

Remember I hold you.

Never mind the demons and discouragements.

You are in me

and it is I who walk through this world

with you hidden deep within me. 
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

Let us go forward quietly, forever making for the light…   Vincent van Gogh 


Let us go forward quietly, forever making for the light, and lifting up our hearts in the knowledge that we are as others are (and that others are as we are), and that it is right to love one another in the best possible way – believing all things, hoping for all things, and enduring all things.…And let us not be too troubled by our weaknesses, for even he who has none, has one weakness, namely that he thinks he has none, and anyone who believes himself to be so perfect or wise would do well to become foolish all over again.

✍🏻

Vincent van Gogh


There is always that edge of doubt.

Trust it, that’s where the new things come from.

If you can’t live with it, get out,

Because when it’s gone, you’re on Automatic,

Repeating something you’ve learned.

Let your prayer be:

Save me from that tempting certainty that

Leads me back from the Edge,

That dark edge where the first light breaks.

The Edge of Doubt by Albert Huffstickler


Thing on my art table…

Chopsticks from Korea House – Jana

Seed from ASG Intensive – Patti

Tea light from Retreat 2012 – Robin

Blue twistie light from Andy n Brandi’s wedding

Paint brushes from Kacie’s old art box 

Small souvenir dish from Italy and a pumpkin Anni gifts

along side Faith-Trumps-Fear dogtag

tiny flower pots that just make me happy

One of Pearl’s rocks with a natural cross 

Big Purple stone from Bernice’s apartment

Inspirational box I bought in Connecticut

Small leather journal part of art supply shopping trip Chris bought me 

Pens, paints, markers, pencils

Books – as many as possible

Journals, Bible, sketch pads 

Tweezers – always tweezers

Computer 

My framed arts-ing

Other things as well

each small thing connected to someone, 

some place. 

I am surrounded by what I love,

Who I love,

What I live.

I keep pieces of myself

of moments, 

the people, I love. 

and I build my days 

with bricks, blocks, shells and sparkly rocks

layers of a life 

built on grace and gratitude

a firm foundation 

which will not be shaken. 

🐚

AL


21 different ways to do art therapy and put your thoughts in order

Posted by The Minds Journal EditoriaL| A Better Living, Interesting, The Journal | 16 |     

Sometimes, the solution to your problem just won’t come into your head, yet your thoughts are spinning at a 100 kilometers an hour, and you feel like your brain is going to explode.

It’s times like this that you could do with trying some ’art therapy’. At its most basic, the only preparation you need to carry out for this is to grab a pencil and a sheet of paper. Then, just start drawing. It doesn’t even matter what you draw. Within a certain amount of time, your thoughts will become more harmonious and you’ll calm down.

To help you get started, here’s what to do if you’re feeling…

* Tired: draw flowers

* Angry: draw lines

* In pain: build a model

* Bored: color in a sheet of paper in various colors

* Sad: paint a rainbow

* Scared: knit something

* Worried: make a doll

* Indignant: tear a piece of paper into small pieces and arrange it into a pattern

* Anxious: do some origami

* Tense: draw patterns

* Nostalgic: draw a maze

* Disappointed: copy a portrait or painting

* In despair: draw your way out

* Confused: draw an Indian mandala

* That you need to restore your strength: make a landscape painting

* That you can’t make sense of your feelings: paint a self-portrait

* That you need to remember this moment: draw some colored patterns

* That you need to put your thoughts in order: draw honeycombs or squares

* That you need to take the time to make the right choice: draw waves and circles

* That you’re stuck in a rut: draw spirals

* That you need to make sense of your most important goal: draw target symbols.

21 different ways to do art therapy and put your thoughts in order


All my feelings have the colors you desire to paint. – Rumi

💥

I feel the blues and greens today

I experiment with running colors together

I love the oranges and yellows

They make me happy

My words are few today

Faith

Love 

Life

Fly

A few more I repeat

I experiment with brushes

I play with squares of paper

These colors are poured out definitely sharing my emotions

I design things in my head

At the end of this day 

I have created something good

for my soul

doesn’t matter how great it is…

I am an artist 

I must create

🌟

AL



photo sources found at pinterest.com

quest for that shade of blue


When the light lessens,

Causing colors to lose their courage,

And your eyes fix on the empty distance

That can open on either side

Of the surest line

To make all that is

Familiar and near

Seem suddenly foreign,
When the music of talk

Breaks apart into noise

And you hear your heart louden

While the voices around you

Slow down to leaden echoes

Turning the silence Into something stony and cold,
When the old ghosts come back

To feed on everywhere you felt sure,

Do not strengthen their hunger

By choosing to fear;

Rather, decide to call on your heart

That it may grow clear and free

To welcome home your emptiness 

That it may cleanse you

Like the clearest air

You could ever breathe. 
Allow your loneliness time

To dissolve the shell of dross

That had closed around you;

Choose in this severe silence

To hear the one true voice

Your rushed life fears;

Cradle yourself like a child

Learning to trust what emerges,

So that gradually 

You may come to know
That deep in that black hole 

You will find the blue flower

That holds the mystical light 

Which will illuminate in you

The glimmer of springtime. 

💙

A Blessing for Loneliness by John O’Donohue  


Alone and lost

    at the edge

    of an ocean

    of memories,
    a heart of the deepest blue

        beats

    to the slow monotony

    of a swaying metronome;
found in the crashing waves

    of a dark desolate shore.

 
The weeping wind,

    with its hidden whispers,

    murmurs her name;
as nights they walked

    hand in hand
        flashback into view.
Haunting the torn fabric of his soul.

💔

Shipwrecked heart by AllPoetry member, Halosonthemoon

read the rest here: http://ow.ly/eO4E302oGFH


when I ride the nights ragged hours

when my loneliness rages with ruthless, restless, too warm turning 

when heaven is that smudge of light

seen beside the farthest star

when sleep is torn from my hungry grasp

and I am left without an inch of satisfaction 

from the feathers beneath my head

when I open my eyes to the same shade of black

I see with them closed

then I feel the disappearance of my desire to conform

my self is borderless at 3 am

my pretensions dissolve into this dark

I surrender to my grief

as well as to my hope

I swim to the other end of the bed

to cooler pastures

I visit the sheep 

living among the stuff 

down there

I listen as they recited the 23rd Psalm 

to reassure my nervous entering

in that strange world

I hear all the sounds from this new dimension 

my mind takes on the shape of new perspective 

alert to this unusual adventure 

I cry a little

laugh a little

think about the glory of love

the world turns on its axis

I breath free

I fly home

💞

AL


I am a sheep

and I like it

because the grass

I lie down in

feels good and the still

waters are restful and right

there if I’m thirsty

and though some valleys

are very chilly there is a long

rod that prods me so I

direct my hooves

the right way

though today

I’m trying hard

to sit at a table

because it’s expected

required really

and my enemies—

it turns out I have enemies—

are watching me eat and

spill my drink

but I don’t worry because

all my enemies do

is watch and I know

I’m safe if I will

just do my best

as I sit on this chair

that wobbles a bit

in the grass

on the side of a hill.

🐏

Here In The Psalm by Sally Fisher


Your great mistake is to act the drama

as if you were alone. As if life

were a progressive and cunning crime

with no witness to the tiny hidden

transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny

the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,

even you, at times, have felt the grand array;

the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding

out your solo voice You must note

the way the soap dish enables you,

or the window latch grants you freedom.

Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.

The stairs are your mentor of things

to come, the doors have always been there

to frighten you and invite you,

and the tiny speaker in the phone

is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into

the conversation. The kettle is singing

even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots

have left their arrogant aloofness and

seen the good in you at last. All the birds

and creatures of the world are unutterably

themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

🌎

Everything is Waiting for You by David Whyte

from Everything is Waiting for You

©2003 Many Rivers Press


photo sources found at pinterest.com


when I touch your face I touch the face of God   


our identity actually depends on the attention we give to things outside of ourselves 

          (David Whyte via On Being)


It is so difficult to see this face * 

because the countless others 

we’ve seen before 

cloud the view, 

along with how we expect it to look 

and how it might be improved.
Even the faces of the ones we love deeply 

hide like buried treasure 

behind histories of expression.
In order to see 

what is right in front of our eyes, 

we first have to recognize 

we have gradually 

become blind, 

and then begin 

the slow work of forgetting.

* Substitute with any noun: flower, beach, stone, bird, soap bubble, house, grandmother, beef stew, homeless person, celebrity, potato, dollar bill, construction worker, politician, drug addict, child, teacher, report card, mail order catalogue, boss, swimming pool, dog, towel, onion, computer, neighbor, planet, pine cone, cigarette, airplane, spam subject, fork, mountain, etc.

🍴

Recognition by Daron Larson


You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot — it’s all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.

☺️

           – Maya Angelou 


Me myself

Trippers and askers surround me, People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation.

The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new…

These come to me days and nights and go from me again. But they are not the Me myself.

– Walt Whitman from Song of Myself


I long to see your face

to touch the hills of your nose

your cheeks

the valleys where your eyes live

your forehead, I don’t know well enough 

the crease of your chin 

under your lips

your face is the place 

where your soul

meets the world,

met mine

your breath

allows us to mingle

melting into each other’s dna

I miss your conversation 

I miss our laughter

I miss your company 

I miss your hands

mostly I miss seeing your face

with these eyes of mine

😍

AL


I think your whole life shows in your face and we should be proud of that. 

     – Lauren Bacall


                look at your hands

    your beautiful useful hands

                you’re not an ape

            you’re not a parrot

    you’re not a slow loris

        or a smart missile

            you’re human
            not british

        not american

            not israeli

    not palestinian

        you’re human
            not catholic

    not protestant

        not muslim

            not hindu

    you’re human
    we all start human

        we end up human

            human first

                human last

            we’re human

        or we’re nothing
    nothing but bombs

        and poison gas

    nothing but guns

        and torturers

    nothing but slaves

    of Greed and War

    if we’re not human
                    look at your body

    with its amazing systems

    of nerve-wires and blood canals

        think about your mind

    which can think about itself

        and the whole universe

            look at your face

    which can freeze into horror

            or melt into love

        look at all that life

            all that beauty

            you’re human

        they are human

        we are human

    let’s try to be human
            dance!

💃🏻

Human Beings by Adrian Mitchell

so thug 


A bold and sustained outbreak of gentleness


We believe in the God of grace.

We follow the Teacher of Love.

We live by the Spirit of mercy.

We trust God’s healing of the world.
When people spread fear and division,

when evil, injustice and oppression thrive,

no political revolution, program or platform will save us,

but only a people transformed by grace and light,

and a bold and sustained outbreak of gentleness.
We will stand up to cynicism, hate and indifference,

and blanket this world with compassion, calm and mercy.

We will proclaim the truth against all resistance.

We will meet fear and hate with healing.

We will obstruct the progress of injustice 

with our prayers, our words and our bodies.

We will infest the world with grace and love.
We pray for open hearts and a spirit of deep listening.

We pray for courage to enter the wounds of the world;

for a spirit of peace to face violence with nonviolence;

for patience to answer darkness with light.

We pray for humility to offer ourselves 

as the first to be changed.

We pray for one another, for we are one Body.

We devote ourselves to sacrifice and discipline.
Giving thanks for the great spirit of grace

already breathing in us, already rising,

in hope and love, as the gentle people of God,

we go forth.          
        

__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net



with wings
 rough hands
 feet on bare earth
I want to become a continent of angels
 some common rarity so unexplored
unadmissable 
that even I cannot find where I begin or end
.
let this body become a borderless land
full of immigrants
artist and poets
whose only claim to fame is that 
they rushed to join this conflagration of 
unbound unexplored unknowable art
to enter full existence
.
who is to say what is real
in a universe so wide
and blasted unpretentious  
let us join this revolution
 wild eyes full hearted
as if this day 
is the only day the universe will ever exist
and yes you matter 
.
come with me 
join asunder
this world is fully ablaze
and yet none of us burn
like a kernel in the heart of the sun 
.
now I have come to understand 
the language of infinity
it is in the way you dress and speak 
and hurry along caressing the earth 
and me with it
some vision of your standard uranium golden globe reeking sun 
the perfect curve with no edge

———–
Adam A DeFranco (c) 2016



I am always amazed at the layers,

the levels, of the human experience. 

The never ending,

ever-evolving, devolving,

shifting, opening,

illumination, illusion-revealing,

conviction shattering, my gospel truth challenging, 

deep calling to deep, border breaking, 

darkness, light and color discovering, re-discovering.
This way of living I have stumbled onto – into – 

not because I’m so smart –

but because I asked,

I was given this priceless gift. 

This surprising path 

of a pilgrim,

of spiritual growth,

baby stepping my way to

healing, learning,

opening, Mystery,

more always reveals more. 

Always re-defining the definitions

of love, abundance,

grace, healing,

truth, error,

good, evil,

joy, suffering,

prosperity, poverty,

spirit, spirituality,

life itself becoming more with each step. 

My self righteousness becoming less important

with every glimpse of my Creator, my own Belovedness. 

Sometimes I understand how Peter must have felt when he saw the great sheet of unclean animals come down before him,

which God asked him to kill and eat,

He challenged with those same words I have heard from heaven –

“What I have named clean do not proclaim unclean.”

Challenging, very challenging, stuff. 

The stuff of humility and opening, 

the stuff of learning. 

Life changing/giving stuff. 

We want to think we know, that we are right. 

We want approval, to be able to judge. 

We want to earn our way, be worthy. 

It will never work. Thankfully. 

Then we catch the tiniest of glimpses of the Lover

and we fall on our knees,

breathless, undone,

aware of our need, our misplaced vanity,

stripped of our pride, our shoes,

amazed by what we have encountered, changed forever. 

full but ever thirsty for more – 
LOVE

💞

AL


I’m convinced of this: Good done anywhere is good done everywhere. For a change, start by speaking to people rather than walking by them like they’re stones that don’t matter. As long as you’re breathing, it’s never too late to do some good.

💞

— Maya Angelou 


growing wild 


Dark and early in your story someone fearful

of your inborn glory took it 

and buried it behind your house,

and you, innocently, and wise to save yourself

from their greater wrath, 

believed its absence. 

It’s not a pompous glory, 

insistent on regard, but sure and quiet 

as a wildflower’s, asking nothing.

And so you’ve lived—so have we all— 

without it, your heart shoveled over

with self-doubt and apology, as if 

you have no place or voice here

among angels. 

We see you in the cripples who flocked

to Jesus, the mute, the paralyzed,

bent over, shut out, gone mad. 

And all he meant to say was this: 

you shine. You bring a gift 

as no one else, and you belong. 

Your Word deserves a hearing,

and this world needs your beauty 

and your grace. There is no rank

you fall below, no worth you fail to match.

Your shuttering was evil, and God 

wants it undone, and wants you whole.

And so she takes you by the hand

and raises you to stand, to walk, to speak.

She listens to your song with joy. 

She rains upon the earth

until you are unafraid of your radiance

and all our houses are surrounded by wildflowers.

______________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


Wildflowers grow without

discipline,

rooted in the secret order

of quietness.

Edges get rounded down.

Nature offers no straight lines 

or right angles.

Wouldn’t you rather run your

fingers through black loam

than scroll through golden rules?

What you really seek

is the fragrance of chaos,

like a moth on a purple aster,

the intimate fragility

of mountain meadows.

Surrender first.

Strip off the armor

of Should.

Then fight your valiant battle

for beauty.

___________
Alfred K. LaMotte


Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow:

they do not toil or spin. 

~Matthew 6:28



Do you suppose she’s a wild flower?

Dancing light and free

Do you suppose she’s a wildflower? 

As we all wish to be 

Let yourself go 

be drawn to what you love

   – Rumi


God made black sheep and dandelions 

God said they were good

God made your heart sweet

He sees you cryin’

Oh now can’t you see

God made you and me

just like every star

to shine just as we are
 there’s a garden many know

pretty maids all in a row

looking all they same are they

mother, may I? they do say
some folks see wishes

some folks see weeds

some folks see diamonds

whiles stones others see

some folks don’t get me

as I need to be

I am a wildflower

dancing so free
God made black sheep and dandelions 

God said they were good

God made your heart sweet

He sees you cryin’

Oh now can’t you see

God made you and me

just like every star

to shine just as we are
there’s a sky above we see

stars come out to play at night

they don’t ask what they can be

they shine their light for all to see
some folks see storms clouds

some folks see rains

some folks see nightmares

whiles dreams others see

some folks don’t get me

as I need to be

I am a star child

twinkling so free
God made black sheep and dandelions 

God said they were good

God made your heart sweet

He sees you cryin’

Oh now can’t you see

God made you and me

just like every star

to shine just as we are

💫

AL






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Music has been used for a variety of purposes, but many uses have been forgotten and lost. Work chants were used with sailors, field workers, slaves and soldiers to increase their productivity. Musical rhythms created patterns of organization and control movement – for an activity such as rowing a boat. It created unity and cooperation among workers. The musical rhythm set a work pace. It also helped people focus on the music and not the hard, and arduous work.
Some songs give people identity, like “our” song, and songs for a sports team or a group or nation. Jingles can persuade people to accept a certain point of view. Jingles are used extensively in China to promote political points of view and in advertising to encourage people to buy a product.
When ancient conquerors came into a new land, they quickly outlawed local music – as their music strengthened identity in a culture and its old ways. The Russians did this in Finland during World War II, outlawing the music, Finlandia, as it gave the local people courage and strength. Music has more power than we give it credit for.
Special uplifting music can change a person’s outlook, creating a window to heaven – a new way of feeling and thinking. Ancient people referred to music that altered and uplifted a person’s conscious as the “music of the spheres.”
Author Viola Pettit Neal, wrote about a novel use of music, “The conquest of evil will ultimately be accomplished by use of rituals of sound and form. For evil is that which is disharmonious and cannot exist in harmonious pattern of sound and form. The word ‘ritual’ in its true definition is an orderly movement of sound and geometrical form in sequential patterns.”[1] Neal suggests that harmonious music can overcome disharmony (evil). Many African tribes surround someone who has behaved badly, singing their name and song to them – reestablishing harmony. It makes sense that Osama bin Laden outlawed music for his followers. Guess it would be hard to prepare for a suicide bombing mission, when you were humming a breezy Beach Boys tune. Such harmony would make it near impossible to get people do heinous deeds.
Could we use music to change people that have done unscrupulous things? Why not use harmonic and healing music: In prisons, with children in trouble or business with poor reputations? Where negotiations are taking place? What about on a war front? How serious could people be about fighting, when everyone was singing Silent Night?
Research has shown that people easily believe others in a distant country are enemies – if they don’t know them. In contrast, if they know the people, they don’t want them to be hurt. What about sharing songs from countries to lesson international tension? If people like a country’s music, it will be harder to demonize their people – as the enemy. For example, racism against black people declined in the end of the last century, when young people loved black rap music.
The people of Estonia, a small Romanian country, had been slaves for thousands of years. As slaves, they were demoralized. When the abusive Czars were shot, the Estonians saw their chance for freedom, but had no courage to seize the opportunity. In a country of only a million people, half of them sang nonstop for a week. The energy created from singing – realigned their “will,” determination and spirit. They rose up and boldly gained their freedom.
Shortly after Hitler took control of Poland, Russia overpowered the Romanian countries. Under Stalin’s rule about a third of Estonians were randomly forced to work in Siberia. Most died. This practice terrorized the people. Later, Hitler as well as the Russians, enslaved Estonian men and forced them to fight against each other, with brothers killing brothers. Pain colored the Estonians with fear, shame, and horror; once again, breaking the spirit of the people.
After World War II, the Russian occupation created harsh conditions, little food, no jobs, no places to live, but plenty of fear. When the communist regime fell, the Estonian people found themselves again beaten down with no strength to gain their freedom.
Once again, the Estonian people came together with a song-festival for five days, with a half of million people attending. Afterwards, the Estonia people gained their freedom, crediting their courage to the energy created by singing. To this day the Estonian people hold a song-festival every five years.
Sound and music is chock full of hidden energy. Music is invisible, but its powers are greater than we ever dreamed of.
[1] Viola Pettit Neal, Through the Curtain, 1962. 

by 

Jill Mattson

 jill@jillshealingmusic.com


I love you wild –

like oceans, volcanoes, tsunamis and bees

I love you natural –

like seasons, rainbows, and falling leaves

I love you large –

like Grand Canyon’s,   

the mountains and sky

I love you small – 

like the atom, lady bugs, birds flying high 

I love you tender – 

like mamas with babies, 

and soft, falling rain

I love you strong – 

like soldiers with orders,

and wind on the plains

I love you like every cliche ever written

I love you with words that can never be spoken 

I love you in mystery I can’t understand

when hearing your voice

or seeing your hands

I love you deeper than knowledge

and wider than life

You fill me with beauty,

I am music, 

yes, music

you are my life

🎼

AL


photo sources at pinterest.com

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