I have to shut the door,
Keep it out.
I can’t let it in.
It will only start again.
It doesn’t care about the tears but
Loves the dark.
When I’m not paying attention, it steps on my heart and
Climbs into my soul.
I don’t know its name
But it knows mine,
“The Great arises out of small things that are honored and cared for” Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth
Such wisdom in so few words.
But what is the Great if not a compilation of the small.
Nothing is too small to be part of the One.
The Great unmainfested, is manifest in everything, including the small, especially the small.
It is through the ordinary manifestation of the One that it’s true
Heart and meaning is able to shine through.
Honor all “things” as part of the Creator
Made touchable, reachable, and real.
Ceremonies and traditions, ways of honoring the small things, act
As symbols and representations of caring for the One all-pervasive energy, the Creator.
Everywhere I look I see evidence of this truth.
When I open my eyes each morning, I acknowledge and honor the new day’s creation.
A new beginning with each sunrise, with each chime of the cuckoo clock,
As the new born light angles across my bed and bedroom walls.
My breakfast food of sweet potatoes and spinach
Lies in splendor on the golden yellow dish.
The lightly colored beautiful orange sweet potatoes shine
In stark contrast to the dark green warmth of the spinach.
They are contrasts in wholeness, beautiful small things to be honored and appreciated.
As is the tea steaming in my tea mug which shares the mug’s space and honors its useful emptiness, tea honoring mug honoring tea.
The shower water’s warmth and the soap’s scent of softness and peace
Honor my body and I honor their usefulness and dedication to service without selfishness.
And with each step and in each and every place I go throughout the day,
I try to take the time, maybe only a second or two, to notice and honor the small things.
After all, I am a small thing too.
Don’t tell me you can’t,
Can’t is a lie
Can’t is a choice
Tell me you won’t
At least that is honest.
You can, I know you can.
You have before, or was
That a won’t, or maybe just a should.
Could always be a should and
Maybe even a won’t too but,
There is always that “but”.
Always that lie.
Always the “I can’t”.
But this time it doesn’t matter because,
My little heart keeps asking me “why?”
I hear her tiny voice in the quiet early morning hours,
but I have no answer for her.
She has stayed up all night again.
Thinking about the past, feeling the pain and sorrow of the now.
She has fallen into a deep dark pit,
Her little voice echos off the steep, cold sides.
I keep reaching out to her but her tiny hands
Have not the strength to hold on.
So she sinks back to the bottom and
Remains in sorrow and darkness.
It is so painful to witness this.
She used to be such a happy little thing,
Always positive, always trusting.
Albeit, sometimes a bit too naive for her own good,
But it was a naiveté not based on stupidity or ignorance but
One based on a choice to trust and believe in spite of the red flags not to.
I am afraid for her, she is tired and there are
Beasts down there with her in the darkness.
They are evil, heartless beasts who lie to her,
Who tell her she is not good enough, that she is unlovable and a fool.
They sneak in while she sleeps and
Whisper doubts in her ear.
I keep trying to tell her to be strong and not listen to their lies,
But I don’t think she can hear me yet.
So, I wait on the edge of the pit
With an open mind and open hand to catch her the next time she climbs to within my reach.
I don’t mind waiting.
I know she will try again soon in spite of her pain and sorrow.
I have faith in her – she is not a quitter.
I know that I love what I love.
My passions are many.
The sound of thunder ignites my soul.
The scent of simmering soup warms my heart.
My passion overflows for clear glass bowls and jars,
Shelves full of home-grown goodness,
Baby smiles and sighs,
Forest trees and critters,
Gardens full of life and love,
Friends and family,
Krishna’s promise of another day of light and joy and
My lover’s heartbeat at midnight.
My passions consume my heart and fill my soul and body
Leaving no room for sadness and negative thoughts as
I have no passion left for them.
We are so much the same,
Yet so different.
Is his smile a window to his thoughts?
Or a decoy for his sadness.
Are his jokes a sign of a lighthearted man?
Or a disguise covering something darker.
His story is like so many others,
Full of disappointments and fear, sadness and hurt.
Much like mine.
We are so much the same,
Yet so different.
We engage in small talk to lay a foundation,
Our lighthearted joking starts a deeper conversation.
But is it too soon, too raw, too scary?
There seems to be so much more to know about each other,
But, really, is that knowledge even necessary?
We appear to be so much the same, yet still feel so different.
Some of my stories are outdated and need to be let go and left behind.
They are no longer relevant,
No longer important to new friends,
Who, I have just come to realize,
Are so much more like me than we are different.
My hands are softer now,
More wrinkled but softer.
The physical strength of youth has faded
But the strength of endurance has remained.
Life is softer now too,
Also more wrinkled but softer.
Youth’s sharp edges have been dulled,
Made safer by times wearing.
Just as water over rocks smooths and polishes them,
My physical shape too changes with time but
My inner song remains the same.
There is magic in this night.
Brilliance in its darkness and darkness in its light.
Tonight, my soul is deep in the arms of midnight,
Too deep to see,
Too blind to know,
Its cries too silent to be heard.
I am astounded by the simplicity of this midnight,
But also shocked by its truth.
Too much time has passed with too little thought and
Now… what of now?
It is gone.
Forever to remain,
The night sky displays
A sea of stars that shine as
Pinpoints of hope in the darkness.
It is a sweet darkness,
A still darkness in the arms of God.
He holds his creation close to his heart and
Gives it space to grow and spread His promise of love’s light.
The confluence of our channels of prayer and the gathering of oms has the power to
Open the sails of change.
Sails that steer ships with hulls full of enlightened souls
Through the welcoming love of God’s thoughts
Populating the emptiness between the stars
And the heart of the Creator.
It is through us that His word becomes manifest
And His darkness is empty no more.