A Living Album

The other day, as I was out to “buy” something, I realized that for me, things are much less valuable than experiences. My “things” have a habit of wearing out… my experiences, not so much.

Flower Of The SkyI hold all of my experiences tucked inside of me, and I pull them out like a treasured photo album… ah, but here the analogy ends, for this particular photo album is alive.

The photos have not faded, the corners are not bent, each unfolds again and again as I pull it out. The faces have not dimmed over time. None have turned to black and white. They are filled with bright colors, with the lessons and learnings, the emotions and the wonders of all that I am capable of feeling.

winning.gifWhat a great camera, what a great camcorder, I hold the magic button to. Press… LIVE !! Press I AM ALIVE, press I FEEL, press and I THRIVE.

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Spinning Man

spinning man
empty world
ashes & feathers
boys & girls

Spinning Man 2

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Stay Awake

This is the way
It’s inside you
Every minute of the day
Every moment of your life
Stay awake!
Watch your life unfold
Like a story being told
For the first time

Flower Flame

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Surrounded by Certainty

In photography contrast is important, light illuminating the focused sector,with perhaps the rest in varying degrees of shadow.

Waiting For Godot
This understanding of light and dark, clarity and confusion, illustrates that not only do both occupy our space, but that we have choice which to give our attention to.

I can sit down to the inner practice that has been revealed, to those who have received this Knowledge, and in the beginning the likelihood of being distracted by thoughts is fairly standard.

However there comes a point where peace occupies the field and I am no longer thinking, for I have entered the state of feeling.

When this occurs you can rest, for you see that the barrage of your thoughts has nothing to do with reality, for eventually your ideas and concerns dissolve back into the ethers, and you are left simply breathing in beauty.

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Holding the song

Montessori
gold grass
around the pool

breath’s flute fills

& empties

It makes me weep
to feel how much holding.
(draw your mouth to my ear)

What do I wait for, Love?
One chord, one tone.

One song,

mine alone.

from the CD of poems,
Holding the Song, wiredonwords

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Knowing You

 

“This is how a living master opens the inner eye,
so when words are heard
they can be seen through a lens.”

(Coleman Barks, The Soul of Rumi)

Is this conversation going on always, this remembrance,
whether I know it or not?

Sometimes I think of you and the phone rings.
Someone reminds me I can do some tangible thing for you.

droplet

You are form and not form.
Those who have seen you know this is possible.

Listening to you, the heart opens.
Eyes can’t stay dry but weep as if overflowing.

A full moon, a field of coloured water, cleansing, sparkled blessings.
Holi. Play.

No right words, but this quest for words,
to express the longing, fulfillment.

After the lens has been cleaned,
the eye has been opened,
why do I search in darkness for a switch?

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