More on letting go in autumn

There are so many things that hold us back from our dreams

Freedom is not given to us by anyone; we have to cultivate it ourselves. It is a daily practice.

By freedom I mean freedom from afflictions, from anger, and from despair.

Thich Nhat Hanh,  Be Free Where You Are

Thoughts about

 

Finally calm again after some days of wind and rain..

Life does not consist mainly – or even largely – of facts and happenings.

It consists mainly of the storm of thoughts that is forever blowing through one’s head.

Mark Twain, Autobiography

Mud

Continuing with a sequence of Mary Oliver poems for autumn. A lot of wind and rain here yesterday and overnight. Plenty of mud…

Angels are wonderful but they are so, well, aloof.
It’s what I sense in the mud and the roots of the
trees, or the well, or the barn, or the rock with
its citron map of lichen that halts my feet and 
makes my eyes flare, feeling the presence of some
spirit, some small god, who abides there.

If I were a perfect person, I would be bowing
continuously. 
I’m not, though I pause wherever I feel this
holiness, which is why I’m so often late coming
back from wherever I went.

Forgive me.

Mary Oliver, Forgive me

Where we are

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. I can be received gladly or grudgingly, in big gulps or in tiny tastes, like a deer at the salt

Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies, Some Thoughts on Faith