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Archive for December, 2014

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THE DREAM OF NOW

When you wake to the dream of now
from night and its other dream,
you carry day out of the dark
like a flame.
When spring comes north and flowers
unfold from earth and its even sleep,
you lift summer on with your breath
lest it be lost ever so deep.
Your life you live by the light you find
and follow it on as well as you can,
carrying through darkness wherever you go
your one little fire that will start again.

– William Stafford –

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WHAT WE NEED IS HERE

Geese appear high over us,

pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,

as in love or sleep, holds

them to their way, clear

in the ancient faith: what we need

is here. And we pray, not

for new earth or heaven, but to be

quiet in heart, and in eye,

clear. What we need is here.

– Wendell Berry –

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IMG_4866It’s been a quiet time over here at My Inner Edge…I have been living in my own inner edge, absorbed in work and life and celebrating the arrival of my new granddaughter, Hazel Pomeline. One season has dissolved into the next and the next and the next…the leaves changing, dropping…bare trees against an early winter sky.

A recent adventure for me–hanging out at Story U, working on my “undeniable story.” Fabulous. Challenging. It’s gotten me writing again! The journey through my own backstory and story-ing myself into my future reminds of this poem by David Whyte.

MAMEEN

Be infinitesimal under that sky, a creature

even the sailing hawk misses, a wraith
among the rocks where the mist parts slowly.

Recall the way mere mortals are overwhelmed
by circumstance, how great reputations
dissolve with infirmity and how you,
in particular, stand a hairsbreadth from losing
everyone you hold dear.

Then, look back down the path to the north,
the way you came, as if seeing
your entire past and then south
over the hazy blue coast as if present
to a broad future.

Remember the way you are all possibilities
you can see and how you live best
as an appreciator of horizons,
whether you reach them or not.

Admit that once you have got up
from your chair and opened the door,
once you have walked out into the clean air
toward that edge and taken the path up high
beyond the ordinary, you have become
the privileged and the pilgrim,
the one who will tell the story
and the one, coming back
from the mountain,
who helped to make it.

– David Whyte –

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