Moment by moment, breath by breath

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Great things are…done…by a series of small things brought together

Vincent van Gogh

Where to look

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If we are unable to find tranquility within ourselves, 

it is useless to seek it elsewhere.

(Si nous sommes incapables de trouver la tranquillite en nous-mêmes,

il ne sert à rien de la chercher ailleurs)

 La Rochefoucauld,

 

Birdsong on the first day of Spring

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I don’t know where prayers go, or what they do.
Do cats pray, while they sleep
     half-asleep in the sun?
The sunflowers? The old black oak
     growing older every year?
I know I can walk through the world,
     along the shore or under the trees,
with my mind filled with things
     of little importance, in full
self-attendance.  A condition I can’t really
     call being alive
Is a prayer a gift, or a petition, or does it matter?
The sunflowers blaze, maybe that’s their way.
Maybe the cats are sound asleep. Maybe not.

While I was thinking this I happened to be standing
just outside my door, with my notebook open,
which is the way I begin every morning.
Then a wren in the privet began to sing.
He was positively drenched in enthusiasm,
I don’t know why. And yet, why not.
I wouldn’t persuade you from whatever you believe
or whatever you don’t. That’s your business.
But I thought, of the wren’s singing, what could this be
     if it isn’t a prayer?

Mary Oliver, I Happened to Be Standing

photo sylvain haye

Everything we need to know

He thought that if he stood on the bottom rail of the bridge and leant over, 

and watched the river slipping slowly away beneath him,

then he would suddenly know everything that  there was to be known.

A. A Milne, The House at Pooh Corner, chapter 6

Sunday Quote: Grandeur

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If there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life

as in hoping for another life

and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.

Albert Camus

photo Håkon Dahlmo

Life’s journey

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I do not understand the mystery of grace – 

only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.

Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies