By: Julia Cameron
Blessings ~ Prayers and Declarations for a Heartful Life
.........................................................................
There is a place where words are born of silence,
A place where the whispers of the heart arise.
~ Rumi
.........................................................................
I am blessed by the guidance of Spirit in many
forms. I open my heart and my mind to the influence
of higher forces. I relinquish my definition of myself
as small and limited. I invite guidance and inspiration.
I welcome new thoughts and perceptions, larger perspectives
and possibilities. Rather than insist on being the sole
author of my life, I invite the collaborative forces
of the universe. Synchronicity, coincidence, reinforcement,
and serendipity -- these are friendly companions which speak
to me clearly of higher realms. Rather than close my mind to
the possibility of active spiritual intervention in my affairs,
I commit to noticing, noting, and acknowledging the support
which I actually receive. Life is an orchestra. I am at once
a musician, a music, a conductor, a composer, and an audience.
I recognize my multiple roles and I embrace the harmonies of my
accompaniment. I am perfectly, intricately partnered. I count
this partnership a central blessing in my life.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
And Growth Begins Again
By: Tony Stensland
For Sheila Packa
Soft cotton seeds
Falling silent like dreams
Dancing on waves of air
Everywhere to be
Little thoughts that float
Like dear birds
Whispering, breathing
Lightly toward home
Plant their meaning
In warm and patient ground
Knowing slow growth
Begins in time
Time passes
And hope rises
Rises to the sun
Rises to the sun
Bows to the moon
And rises to the sun
And majesty begins
Taking measures upward
Outward with arms
Of beauty and love
And then releases
Releases beauty and love
In soft seeds of dreams
Finding their way as if known
Thoughts spring thoughts
And growth begins again
For Sheila Packa
Soft cotton seeds
Falling silent like dreams
Dancing on waves of air
Everywhere to be
Little thoughts that float
Like dear birds
Whispering, breathing
Lightly toward home
Plant their meaning
In warm and patient ground
Knowing slow growth
Begins in time
Time passes
And hope rises
Rises to the sun
Rises to the sun
Bows to the moon
And rises to the sun
And majesty begins
Taking measures upward
Outward with arms
Of beauty and love
And then releases
Releases beauty and love
In soft seeds of dreams
Finding their way as if known
Thoughts spring thoughts
And growth begins again
I WALK IN PEACE
By: Julia Cameron
Blessings ~ Prayers and Declarations for a Heartful Life
Our vision is beclouded and the pathway of our progress is
obstructed until we come to know that God can and does
express as Good in every person and situation.
~ Ernest Holmes
I walk in peace. Adversity melts away as I remember
the spiritual reality underlying all things. I claim
my right to divine comfort, divine harmony. I release
all apparent discord into the healing care of the
universe, trusting completely in the larger good that is
unfolding. Divine calm centers my heart in its loving
presence. I relax. Remembering I am sourced in divvine
protection, I breathe in contentment and well-being. I
am held in the heart of God. All things work toward
the good. As I embrace my part in a larger and holier
whole, that whole embraces me. This unity is a great
blessing which brings peace and comfort to my heart.
Blessings ~ Prayers and Declarations for a Heartful Life
Our vision is beclouded and the pathway of our progress is
obstructed until we come to know that God can and does
express as Good in every person and situation.
~ Ernest Holmes
I walk in peace. Adversity melts away as I remember
the spiritual reality underlying all things. I claim
my right to divine comfort, divine harmony. I release
all apparent discord into the healing care of the
universe, trusting completely in the larger good that is
unfolding. Divine calm centers my heart in its loving
presence. I relax. Remembering I am sourced in divvine
protection, I breathe in contentment and well-being. I
am held in the heart of God. All things work toward
the good. As I embrace my part in a larger and holier
whole, that whole embraces me. This unity is a great
blessing which brings peace and comfort to my heart.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
What Happens
By: Hafiz
What happens when your soul
Begins to awaken
Your eyes
And your heart
And the cells of your body
To the great Journey of Love?
First there is wonderful laughter
And probably precious tears
And a hundred sweet promises
And those heroic vows
No one can ever keep.
But still God is delighted and amused
You once tried to be a saint.
What happens when your soul
Begins to awake in this world
To our deep need to love
And serve the Friend?
O the Beloved
Will send you
One of His wonderful, wild companions
What happens when your soul
Begins to awaken
Your eyes
And your heart
And the cells of your body
To the great Journey of Love?
First there is wonderful laughter
And probably precious tears
And a hundred sweet promises
And those heroic vows
No one can ever keep.
But still God is delighted and amused
You once tried to be a saint.
What happens when your soul
Begins to awake in this world
To our deep need to love
And serve the Friend?
O the Beloved
Will send you
One of His wonderful, wild companions
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Salt
By: Shelia Packa
how long have I been stone?
I align the salt and pepper
between the squares
of black and white at the table
as we separate
watch the geranium at the window
and the ice on the other side
grasp a cup
made from another’s hand
in the basement studio
watch love go
into the salty street
between the black iron fence
and white drifts
the dark
around the street lamp
watch the unknown negotiations
of hot and cold
of the old story and the new
think don’t look back—
like Lot’s wife—
how long have I been stone?
is it love if it can’t dance?
if it’s a system of measurement?
can love be an accident or a vision
or a piece of music
played by angels?
O to be saved by the angels
I climb the back of each string
each note pours a shaft of light
each note starts and stops my life
as I ride upon a light horse
an indigo and graphite and platinum
and leafy and sky horse
ride the sound of rails and nightfall
day break and the body,
the body, the body
one is made of wood
one is made of bone
one is made of light
O to die and live in a house of light
pass through inviolate
turn caution aside
leaving was an act of love
turning, an act of love
was there salt on the angel’s tongue
when she told me to leave?
did she shake the house
trembling the azaleas’ red petals
against the green stems and leaves?
every time I begin,
petals fall or leaves
I am leaving
or I’ve left or one is leaving me
or has left
we are leaving still
the edges brittle
some leaves are dead
some are green
what do you do without
green?
what do you do with your lot?
what do you do without
salt?
how long can you be a stone?
the angel rubs the bow
against the strings to make a fire
sparks fly into the billows of electric
guitar, smoke rises
the cities are burning
she holds the strings down
on the other side
releases them
brings back fire from the ice
shadows come out of the trees
to feed Orion in the sky
she swallows the night
before she rises
the dark and salty night
following
I make my own way with the body
in confusion, in the wilderness
in the place of tangles and shadows
and fallen trees
up the hill
in the crossings
in the place of chairs and tables
on the maples paper
with a pen stroke
in the silence of anger or indifference
in joy
in music
in the cacophony
through the past
in a story among other stories
make my own way
without an axe clear a path
toward the light of angels
leave the vanity
and mirror
for another woman
taste the salt of tears on my face
where we were staying I didn’t want to stay
where we were going I didn’t want to go
look back
don’t look back
how long have I been stone?
I align the salt and pepper
between the squares
of black and white at the table
as we separate
watch the geranium at the window
and the ice on the other side
grasp a cup
made from another’s hand
in the basement studio
watch love go
into the salty street
between the black iron fence
and white drifts
the dark
around the street lamp
watch the unknown negotiations
of hot and cold
of the old story and the new
think don’t look back—
like Lot’s wife—
how long have I been stone?
is it love if it can’t dance?
if it’s a system of measurement?
can love be an accident or a vision
or a piece of music
played by angels?
O to be saved by the angels
I climb the back of each string
each note pours a shaft of light
each note starts and stops my life
as I ride upon a light horse
an indigo and graphite and platinum
and leafy and sky horse
ride the sound of rails and nightfall
day break and the body,
the body, the body
one is made of wood
one is made of bone
one is made of light
O to die and live in a house of light
pass through inviolate
turn caution aside
leaving was an act of love
turning, an act of love
was there salt on the angel’s tongue
when she told me to leave?
did she shake the house
trembling the azaleas’ red petals
against the green stems and leaves?
every time I begin,
petals fall or leaves
I am leaving
or I’ve left or one is leaving me
or has left
we are leaving still
the edges brittle
some leaves are dead
some are green
what do you do without
green?
what do you do with your lot?
what do you do without
salt?
how long can you be a stone?
the angel rubs the bow
against the strings to make a fire
sparks fly into the billows of electric
guitar, smoke rises
the cities are burning
she holds the strings down
on the other side
releases them
brings back fire from the ice
shadows come out of the trees
to feed Orion in the sky
she swallows the night
before she rises
the dark and salty night
following
I make my own way with the body
in confusion, in the wilderness
in the place of tangles and shadows
and fallen trees
up the hill
in the crossings
in the place of chairs and tables
on the maples paper
with a pen stroke
in the silence of anger or indifference
in joy
in music
in the cacophony
through the past
in a story among other stories
make my own way
without an axe clear a path
toward the light of angels
leave the vanity
and mirror
for another woman
taste the salt of tears on my face
where we were staying I didn’t want to stay
where we were going I didn’t want to go
look back
don’t look back
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Loveroot, Silk Thread
By: Shelia Packa
Duluth's Poet Laureate :)
let me give enough of myself away
let me hold nothing so close
I can not release it.....
like breath that comes into the body
the way water leaves the shore
like love you've spent
the warmth of the shoulder
what softens the face
or gathers behind sorrow
gravity that presses light inside
what doesn't resign in its reaching
but pauses for breath
a deep and awkward question
what is sealed in its tomb
what gains in its diminishing
let me keep nothing back
not the dead
not the broken seed cases
not the torn letters
love breathing in the palm
as I tear at the earth
not the vine
root, relinquished blossom
not the broken pot
shattered mirror
not the stone
not the promise or rose
but give it all, all.....
Duluth's Poet Laureate :)
let me give enough of myself away
let me hold nothing so close
I can not release it.....
like breath that comes into the body
the way water leaves the shore
like love you've spent
the warmth of the shoulder
what softens the face
or gathers behind sorrow
gravity that presses light inside
what doesn't resign in its reaching
but pauses for breath
a deep and awkward question
what is sealed in its tomb
what gains in its diminishing
let me keep nothing back
not the dead
not the broken seed cases
not the torn letters
love breathing in the palm
as I tear at the earth
not the vine
root, relinquished blossom
not the broken pot
shattered mirror
not the stone
not the promise or rose
but give it all, all.....
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