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Archive for February, 2009

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Don’t surrender your loneliness
So quickly.
Let it cut more deep.
Let it ferment and season you
As few human
Or even divine ingredients can.

– HAFIZ –

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PEACE I GIVE UNTO YOU

Peace:
The remembrance of
the potential of the universe
before the Holy One created it–
the harmony of opposites,
the awareness of the void.
I recreate this original peace in you
with my presence.
I release this peace by my
constant inner forgiveness and letting go.
I surround you with this peace,
and you feel a fire of love kindled in
your hearts.

The thing-world–the universe of
levels, planes, particles, and separation–
cannot give peace the way I do.
Diversity gives the gift of
forms fulfilling their purpose,
then passing away:
a peace of separation.
I give peace with the awareness of
the whole story of sacred unity,
an ongoing creation
moving ahead of, with, and behind us
like a caravan.
Let your heartbeat
carry this remembrance.
When you feel this peace,
the center of your passion
can never be forced or limited,
neither inflated nor deflated.
You cannot be carried away by fear
nor hemmed in by grief.
You are always coming to standing
at the beginning,
reverberating peace
around you
without limit.

– NEAL DOUGLAS KLOTZ –
translation of John 14:27, King James Version
Blessings of the Cosmos: Wisdom of the Heart From the Aramaic Words of Jesus

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It’s noticeable. The early morning light is earlier. There is still light in the sky at 6 pm. The late February sunsets ignite windowpanes and color the world twilight rose. The light is an elixir. I feel it enter my bones, breath and bloodstream. I’ve come to love winter and the end of winter…the gradual warming, brightening, quickening. Already, the maples are budding and their sap is running. There’s a forecast for snow on Thursday and 50 degree weather on Friday. Ahhhhh. The darkest days are fading.

WHAT TO DO THE FIRST MORNING THE SUN COMES BACK

Find a clean cloth for the kitchen table, the red and blue one
you made that cold winter in Montana. Spread out
your paper and books. Tune the radio to the jazz station.
Look at the bright orange safflowers you found last August—
how well they’ve held their color next to the black-spotted cat.

Make some egg coffee, in honor of all the people
above the Arctic Circle. Give thanks to the Sufis,
who figured out how to brew coffee
from the dark, bitter beans. Remark
on the joyfulness of your dishes: black and yellow stars.

Reminisce with your lover about the history of this kitchen
where, between bites of cashew stir fry,
you first kissed each other on the mouth. Now that you’re hungry,
toast some leftover cornbread, spread it with real butter,
honey from bees that fed on basswood blossoms.

The window is frosted over, but the sun’s casting an eye
over all the books. Open your Spanish book.
The season for sleeping is over.
The pots and pans: quiet now, let them be.

It will be a short day.
Sit in the kitchen as long as you can, reading and writing.
At sundown, rub a smidgen of butter
on the western windowsill
 to ask the sun:
Come back again tomorrow.

– ROSEANN LLOYD –

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“Missing Dash…”

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Admittedly, I’ve been blog neglectful of late. I was just having too much fun visiting Dashiell in LA for two weeks! In fact, I was having such a good time that I didn’t even take any photos–these were taken by Sean and Sara. At eleven months, Dashiell is on an exponential learning curve. During my stay, he mastered (appropriately) a “red carpet” wave–saying bye-bye became a thrill–it was all in the wrist. Just slowly rotate your open hand back and forth and you’ll get the idea. He learned to point, saying “dat?” and we went around naming everything in sight. He saw a real duck for the first time and we’re pretty sure that he now says “duck” and maybe “dog.” If you ask what the cow says, he makes a low mooing sound and if you ask what the dog says, he pants. He walks like a champ, almost runs and is into everything. He is a squealer who shrieks with delight over the small things in life. He is in continuous motion, unless you want to read a book–then he can sit for hours, absorbed in the pictures and the story. He’s obsessed with wheels and knobs, has an awesome hairstyle, loves broccoli and Oatio’s and is the full-out expression of adorableness.

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I’ve been home for a week and I miss him terribly.

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