Finding stories, asking questions, mixing metaphors . . .

In the outbox, amid the ides of March . . .

The barriers we build within ourselves against love are fabricated from fear. This is akin to swimming against the Way of the Watercourse. Obviously, the removal of those barriers requires a letting go into the flow, a navigation that begins with an appreciation of the very stream with and of which we are comprised.

I have no time to rush. Nature is not other than you, me, we. If I am off in a trance, I'm missing the appointment I have with life. When my body and mind are at the same place and at the same time, that is the sacred moment of my continuing creation.

Already in a box, learned language and schooled. I write to get out of the box, notwithstanding the rules of grammatical symbols and their constraint. I write toward freedom – “bones” writing, “muse” dictated if I am lucky enough.

There are no inappropriate questions. All questions call for a response which opens new doors behind which are then new stories. Through those same doors, opening the other way, another set of questions. And yet more new stories.

The universe – this world – is not made of parts. The universe – “uni,” singularly united; “verse,” interconnected – manifesting with a rhyme and meter embracing chaos with a harmony of its own design.

Kindness

In the March 12th, Sunday, mailbox. . .

Poet Naomi Shihab Nye was born on this day in 1952 St. Louis, Missouri; its also the 101st anniversary of Jack Kerouac's birth in 1922 Lowell, Massachusetts.

There is a place to stand
where you can see so many lights
you forget you are one of them

— Naomi Shihab Nye, from Spruce Tree, Berkeley, Yellow Glove. Far Corner Books, 1986.

. . . it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

— Naomi Shihab Nye, from Kindness, Words Under the Words, The Eighth Mountain Press; 1st edition 1994.

Peacemakers. . .

In Freya’s mailbox this 10th day in 2023 March . . .

Every step, even from your desk to the mailbox, can be your pilgrimage.

If we were to spend time in nature . . .we would know many of the same things religion has been trying to teach, but we would know them on a cellular level, on a physical and energetic level. That kind of knowing does not contradict the rational; it’s much more holistic and heartfelt. There is nothing that is not spiritual for those who have learned how to see. – Richard Rohr

Meditation is very simple and extremely down-to-earth, to the extent that it’s irritatingly down-to-earth. Through the down-to-earth practice of meditation, you can see the colors of your own existence. The earth begins to come back to you. . . – Chӧgyam Trungpa

To be blessed, your only need is to be where you are.