Sunday Quote: Openness

closed flower

Let us open our leaves like a flower,

and be receptive.

John Keats

A hidden beauty

…You come, dreaming of ferns and flowers

and new leaves unfolding

upon the brash turnip-hearted skunk cabbage…

…Your kneel beside it. The smell

is lurid and flows in the most

unabashed way…

…but these are the woods you love,

where the secret name

of every death is life again – a miracle…

…What blazes the trail is not necessarily pretty.

Mary Oliver, Skunk Cabbage

Planting seeds today

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Do not judge each day
by the harvest you reap
but by the seeds
that you plant.

Robert Louis Stevenson

….And space in not knowing

There was this  friend who came to me  every afternoon about four o’clock, sat me down in a chair in the living room, took off my shoes and socks and massaged my feet. He hardly ever said anything. He was a Quaker elder. And yet out of his intuitive sense, from time to time would say a very brief word like, ‘I can feel your struggle today,’ or farther down the road, ‘I feel that you’re a little stronger at this moment, and I’m glad for that.’ But beyond that, he would say hardly anything. He would give no advice.  Somehow he found the one place in my body, namely the soles of my feet, where I could experience some sort of connection to another human being.

What he mainly did for me, of course, was to be willing to be present to me in my suffering. He just hung in with me in this very quiet, very simple, very tactile way. And it became for me a metaphor of the kind of community we need to extend to people who are suffering in this way, which is a community that is neither invasive of the mystery nor evasive of the suffering but is willing to hold people in a space, a sacred space of relationship, where somehow this person who is on the dark side of the moon can get a little confidence that they can come around to the other side.

Parker Palmer

Sunday Quote: Patience…

seeds-sprouting-in-new-garden

Perhaps the earth can teach us

As when everything seems dead

And later proves to be alive

Pablo Neruda

Things happen in their own time

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We never know how high we are

till we are called to rise;

and then, if we are true to plan,

our statures touch the skies.

Emily Dickinson. We never know how high we are

Photo Steve F