Archive for April, 2011

A beautiful spring afternoon. Walked the “local” labyrinth (a work in progress) in the last light.  Slowly spiraling into the center and back out…a mysterious unwinding and unraveling. Lately, I’ve been reading John O’Donohue’s book, Anam Cara. I love what he says about learning to love yourself…

“You can never love another person unless you are equally involved in the beautiful but difficult spiritual work of learning to love yourself. There is within each of us, at the soul level, an enriching fountain of love. In other words, you do not have to go outside yourself to know what love is. This is not selfishness, and it is not narcissism; they are negative obsessions with the need to be loved. Rather this is the wellspring of love within the heart. Through their need for love, people who lead solitary lives often stumble upon this great fountain. They learn to whisper awake the deep well of love within. This is not a question of forcing yourself to love yourself. It is more a question of exercising reserve, of inviting the wellspring of love that is after all, your deepest nature to flow through your life. When this happens, the ground that has hardened within you grows soft again. Through a lack of love everything hardens. There is nothing as lonely in the world as that which has hardened or grown cold. Bitterness and coldness are the ultimate defeat.

If you find that your heart has hardened, one of the gifts that you should give yourself is the gift of the inner wellspring. You should invite this inner fountain to free itself. You can work on yourself in order to unsilt this, so that gradually the nourishing waters begin in a lovely osmosis to infuse and pervade the hardened clay of your heart. Then the miracle of love happens within you. Where before there was hard, bleak, unyielding, dead ground, now there is growth, color, enrichment, and life flowing from the lovely wellspring of love. This is one of the most creative approaches in transfiguring what is negative within us. You are sent here to learn to love and to receive love. The greatest gift new love brings into your life is the awakening to the hidden love within. This makes you independent. You are now able to come close to the other, not out of need or with the wearying apparatus of projection, but out of genuine intimacy, affinity, and belonging. It is a freedom. Love should make you free. You become free of the hungry, blistering need with which you continually reach out to scrape affirmation, respect, and significance for yourself from things and people outside yourself. To be holy is to be home, to be able to rest in the house of belonging that we call the soul.”


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Spring has arrived…the fruit trees in full bloom; daffodils, grape hyacinths. tulips. We’ve had buckets of rain…lawns thick carpets of green; wild onions sprouting tall, wispy. This morning I see a rose breasted grosbeak at the finch feeder. Just two days ago, I said to my husband that I would love it if some exotic new bird friends would stop by…and I actually said, “I’d love to see some grosbeaks…”

Forever Oneness,
who sings to us in silence,
who teaches us through each other.
Guide my steps with strength and wisdom.
May I see the lessons as I walk,
honor the Purpose of all things.
Help me touch with respect,
always speak from behind my eyes.
Let me observe, not judge.
May I cause no harm,
and leave music and beauty after my visit.
When I return to forever
may the circle be closed
and the spiral be broader.


an Aboriginal poet

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I bless the night that nourished my heart
To set the ghosts of longing free
Into the flow and figure of dream
That went to harvest from the dark
Bread for the hunger no one sees.

All that is eternal in me
Welcome the wonder of this day,
The field of brightness it creates
Offering time for each thing
To arise and illuminate.

I place on the altar of dawn:
The quiet loyalty of breath,
The tent of thought where I shelter,
Wave of desire I am shore to
And all beauty drawn to the eye.

May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites me to new frontiers,
To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
To risk being disturbed and changed.

May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.


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It’s been a quiet time at MY INNER  EDGE. The lens cap has stayed on my camera for much of the winter and lately I’ve been tending to other things. You can check out one of my new endeavors over at my MINDFUL LIVING blog. That said, when I saw the foam on my morning cup of coffee, I just had to take a picture…believe me, this did not come from being a skilled barista.

Part of what’s been happening in my world is the exploration of social media…and the shift from being largely anonymous to the possibility of being seen and known. I suppose if I was under 20, this process would be a no-brainer and almost second nature. And I suppose if I wasn’t so stubbornly independent, I would just hire someone to build my web presence. So, there you have it…I’m fumbling along–rebuilding the website that I didn’t backup properly last year, learning about tweets and fan pages and search engine optimization. And pondering the desire to be known.

P.S. K.H. the coffee and the poem below are for you…


Some commentary on I was a hidden treasure,
and I desired to be known
: tear down

this house. A hundred thousand new houses
can be built from the transparent yellow carnelian

buried beneath it, and the only way to get to that
is to do the work of demolishing and then

digging under the foundations. With that value
in hand all the new construction will be done

without effort. And anyway, sooner or later this house will
fall on its own. The jewel treasure will be

uncovered, but it won’t be yours then. The buried
wealth is your pay for doing the demolition,

the pick and shovel work. If you wait and just
let it happen, you’ll bite your hand and say,

“I didn’t do as I knew I should have.” This
is a rented house. You don’t own the deed.

You have a lease, and you’ve set up a little shop,
where you barely make a living sewing patches

on torn clothing. Yet only a few feet underneath
are two veins, pure red and bright gold carnelian.

Quick! Take the pickaxe and pry the foundation.
You’ve got to quit this seamstress work.

What does the patch-sewing mean, you ask. Eating
and drinking. The heavy cloak of the body

is always getting torn. You patch it with food,
and other restless ego-satisfactions. Rip up

one board from the shop floor and look into
the basement. You’ll see two glints in the dirt.

– RUMI –

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