I want to begin sharing something with you that is a work in progress. There is much more that I want to add, but I am having trouble getting to it.
Your responses are quite welcome and may encourage the work to continue sooner.
The question remains, how shall we consider the things we still can’t see? The presence within and behind trees, stones, and mirrors. Only recently we began to see how perception is a contrived integration of understanding and evolutionary necessity.
Centuries unfold tides of ascribing meaning onto waves of being. It is well that things fall apart, fall to ruin, and are broken down by the fungal foundation of consciousness, to be again available for repurposing and informing the evernow. It has always been so: from Stardust thru DNA. Yet there is authentic joy in the honesty of both uncertainties of substance and in the certainties of shadows.
in the sparkling river
he grips his cup downside up.
Dry and thirsty
he gathers his resolve
and curses cups.
Right it, please, I urge him,
but the message flows off the rim
into to the sparkling river.
(for the wedding of my firstborn)
A blank book begins on a pedestal.
Knock it off.
Spill some ink
Life is gloriously messy,
let it know that you are
Let it know
that you have both shown up
and that your team will make its mark
You may not always write big and bold –
but do so now!
Claim this joint territory
with some reckless abandon
while you may,
so that your children will honor you,
and learn that real authority
derives from truth,
and never vice versa.
I had a pleasant job when I was 16 working in a small, private greenhouse and cut-flower garden. Immersion in floral rainbows and thick greenery each day delighted me then as it does now. Behind the greenhouse was a small yard of luxuriant, thin-bladed grass with a carefully pruned, standard size apple tree growing in the midst of it. About twenty-five feet tall and perhaps thirty feet across, this robust tree provided cool summer shade to the yard. I enjoyed taking my lunch breaks in this yard, leaning against the apple tree.
During my lunch break one day, having already eaten my sandwich, I took a notion to climb the apple tree. It was early Summer and the apples were still quite tiny and the leaves were nearing their full flush and strength. I do not remember exactly why I needed to climb that day since I usually rested during my break. I do recall that I liked to peer into the canopy when resting against the tree trunk. I had marveled at the patterns of filtered green light diminishing daily until the shade was almost complete from the converging growth. From this perspective the canopy formed a flawless fractal flower of greenery evenly spread by its living fan of twigs, branches, limbs, and trunk. I believe I simply could not resist being up into the thickness of that beauty.
Interesting conversation. I’ve read and listened to Karen for several years. She’s got it going on.Vodpod videos no longer available.
I don’t like the way Alan Jones interrupts so much, as if it were appropriate to do so.
I was searching all around
while you made money
and I made debt.
And I had hoped to share
the things I found
and plan to, yet.
I had thought to come right out
and say it plain and straight
But these things I found
don’t work that way
and I’ve had to change my gait.
It seems we cannot see together
what we did not find together.
We must not shut up!
We must listen closely and speak softly.
We must yeild, “Thus and so!”
for “Why?” and “Ahhh.” and “I don’t know.”
Trade up “but” for “How about…?”
And speak with love and NEVER SHOUT.
Make sure that all’s been freely said,
and that no one’s been abused instead.
Draw out the quiet soul
and recognize the toll they pay
to risk our love, to have their say.
This way we chew together
what cannot be chewed alone.
This way we build a shelter
for the changes in our world.
This is the forward facing future of fellowship.