A weekend off…

Saturday morning. Thank you, David Kanigan 

 

Live & Learn

We’re so driven to make ourselves “better” all the time…

We are mercilessly hard on ourselves for our losses, our defeats, our wounds, our failures, the parts of us that don’t measure up.

This is a weekend in non-self-improvement….

~ Francis Weller, in an interview with Tim McKee titled The Geography Of SorrowFrancis Weller On Navigating Our Losses


Photo: Nap time by Aku*S

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Monday Morning Wake-Up Call (February 11th)

Soft blue of dawn even when it is Monday morning – grateful for creation’s rhythm…

thank you, David Kanigan

Live & Learn

The moon is out. The ice is gone. Patches of white
lounge on the wet meadow. Moonlit darkness at 6 a.m.

Again from the porch these blue mornings I hear an eagle’s cries
like God is out across the bay rubbing two mineral sheets together
slowly, with great pressure.

A single creature’s voice—or just the loudest one.
Others speak with eyes: they watch—
the frogs and beetles, sleepy bats, ones I can’t see.
Their watching is their own stamp on the world…

I steel myself for the day.

~ Nellie Bridge, from “February 11″ from Echotheo Review, July 18, 2011


Notes: Poem from 3 Quarks Daily. Winter Moon photo in Norway by Maren Fredagsvik

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Saturday Morning

at a time when one note is so healing. thank you, David.

Live & Learn

Here I am alone with silence.

I have discovered that it is enough when a single note is beautifully played.

This one note, or a silent beat, or a moment of silence, comforts me.

~ Arvo Pärt, in Arvo Pärt by Paul Hillier



Notes: Quote Source – Your Eyes Blaze Out; Portrait of Avro Part by K. Kikkas

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Sunday Morning

Angels unaware

Live & Learn

Angels are wonderful but they are so, well, aloof.
It’s what I sense in the mud and the roots of the
trees, or the well, or the barn, or the rock with
its citron map of lichen that halts my feet and
makes my eyes flare, feeling the presence of some
spirit, some small god, who abides there.

If I were a perfect person, I would be bowing
continuously.
I’m not, though I pause wherever I feel this
holiness, which is why I’m so often late coming
back from wherever I went.

Forgive me.

~ Mary Oliver, “Forgive Me” in Blue Horses


Sources: Poem – Thank you Whiskey River. Photo – Lichen by Mathieu Noël

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