Thursday, November 6, 2008

Returning to center ....

I believe there is a spirit of fire, a spirit of passion that resides within each and every one of us. I believe in a kind, gentle and compassionate world -- where the innocent, resilient, loving and forgiving nature of animals can help us find meaning in our own lives. I believe we all want to belong. I believe we all want to know our lives have meaning and purpose, and that our footprint will be forever etched in the hearts of some living being, some purpose, some dream.


I also believe it's easy for us to get off track ... to hop onto a train that's traveling at lightning speeds -- where it's going, we don't know. It doesn't matter that the train isn't heading somewhere. What will derail us is that we believe we're heading somewhere, attached to a certain outcome, attached to a particular path. It's okay to be lost -- in fact, to be lost and to be okay with being lost and savoring the journey of possibilities, now that's freedom.

How is it possible for me to feel so clear in purpose, yet so lost? How is it possible for me to feel like I am bursting with love, yet feel so empty? How it possible for me to feel my heart tremble, yet feel my soul be still?

In Missy's eye i feel Shen's spirit. I return to center through Shen, through Missy. I return to a place inside of me where questions reside -- the answers aren't out there; the answers aren't in some book or person. The answers aren't even inside, only questions.



What's Not Here
- Rumi

I start out on this road, call it
love or emptiness. I only know what's

not here: resentment seeds, back-
scratching greed, worrying about out-
come, fear of people. When a bird gets
free, it doesn't go back to remnants

left on the bottom of the cage! Close
by, I'm rain. Far off, a cloud of fire.

I seem restless, but I am deeply at ease.
Branches tremble; the roots are still.

I am a universe in a handful of dirt,
whole when totally demolished. Talk

about choices does not apply to me.
While intelligence considers options,

I am somewhere lost in the wind.>

1 comment:

  1. The blur of the Wabasha train perfectly captures the blur of getting off track in life ...a visual metaphor for this challenge in life....

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