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Every morning
I surrender to being here
I let go into gravity
It takes practice
To give up habitual holding on, holding in, holding back
Every morning I open myself
And invite grace to have its way with me
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
photo joolz
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Every morning
I surrender to being here
I let go into gravity
It takes practice
To give up habitual holding on, holding in, holding back
Every morning I open myself
And invite grace to have its way with me
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
photo joolz
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Sometimes things happen that we do not understand and we wish were otherwise. Rumi offers some solace:
Give up to grace.
The ocean takes care of each wave until it gets to the shore
Rumi
photo CC-BY
Another reflection on the calming effects of nature.
This famous haiku reflects on the letting go found under a tree when all things feel at home and we know that beauty is being born at every second. At times like this we treat all moments and all people as friends
In the cherry blossom’s shade
there’s no such thing
as a stranger
Kobayashi Issa, 1763 – 1828

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
David Wagoner, Lost
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I learn by going where I have to go.
Theodore Roethke, American poet, 1908 – 1963, The Waking
photo Jlla00
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God, I said. What good is language?
part of me wondered, but I did not stop.
God I said, from deep inside of me.
Outside it was almost dawn:
the birds awake in all the trees, singing.
These were not the words I had grown up to say:
My mind quiet before the growing sounds.
The birds have opened all their throats once and then again and again:
God, each one singing, asking for nothing, inside my heart.
Nadia Colburn, Where the Light Enters
photo mike prince