A Very Short Talk

"I was thinking about puppets again," she said.
"Oh?"
"That's all."


        

Proclamation Of Goodness

It arrived in the mail from Karme Choling, the Shambala Meditation Center in Barnet, Vermont where I spent a week last October. It was tucked in with holiday shopping fliers, an electric bill, and other stuff.


Upon opening the envelope 
a small, bright orange card 
dropped into the palm of my hand, 


an invitation.


Proclamation of Goodness


May basic goodness dawn.
May the confidence of goodness be eternal.
May goodness be all-victorious.
May that goodness bring profound, brilliant glory.


 ...this song of goodness arose in the mirror of my mind. 
     May it bring the world into a perfect state of goodness.


    Written in Kalapa Valley by the Sakong


      Jampal Trinley Dradul


Goodness is news worth sharing.

It Might Just Be

Chewy woke us up with a crazy round of barking. He was carrying on so bad I got up to look out the window for deer, dogs, or people but saw none of the above. 


I couldn't tell what he was barking at...


until I took him out for a walk. The closer we got to this old leaf bag and rake, the more he dug his heels in.


The look in his eyes said, this thing is dangerous...


which got me to thinking how often my perceptions are screwy. Sometimes I think with all my heart that one thing is going on, when that thing isn't happening at all.


I am truly gifted at conjuring up the scariest, saddest, most heart-wrenching stuff you could imagine. you don't want to know


I could lead workshops on 


           how to scare the shit out of yourself. 


But this is not a good use of my time and talent.


Scaring myself
over imaginary things 
is stupid. 


And just a little exhausting.


Besides, it doesn't pay all that well.


unless it's a blockbuster movie about
vampires and wolves
and a girl having to choose

which begs the question,

Why Haven't I Written A Really Scary Screenplay

so I could be writing to you from Tuscany?


Anyway, Chewy got me thinking:


The Boogey Man 
might just be 
a bag of leaves and a rake. 

Bring Your Heart Back

Bring yourself back to the point quite gently. And even if you do nothing during the whole of your hour but bring your heart back a thousand times, though it went away every time you brought it back, your hour would be well employed.


- St. Francis De Sales (from On Meditation)


I am still marveling at the blooming flowers I sniffed and photographed over the Thanksgiving holiday, and thankful beyond words, for the soft air and sun of the past few days. And for the Chunky bar Michael brought me home from the store...an easy way to my heart which goes away and needs to be brought back a thousand times an hour. 


Go gently on your own dear heart, even when it wanders.


xo b

Sweeter Than The Black Friday Massacre

"This friend of mine thought her living room ceiling had a leak. Water was dripping down and she couldn't figure out from where. But then she discovered that it wasn't water, it was honey!"Nan said.


Nan is my sister-in-law's mother.


"Honey?"
"Yes, honey."
"So...?"
"So they hung plastic around the space, cut a hole in the ceiling, and pulled out an enormous bee hive. The bee guy took the queen and about 86, 000 worker bees..."
"86, 000? How did they figure that..."
"Oh, I guess from the size of the hive. I don't really know."
"That is quite a tale."
"The perfect part is they gave everyone jars of home-made honey for the holidays that year," Nan said.
"Perfect gift." I said.


I love honey. hint hint


This honey tale is way sweeter than today's headlines covering what I refer to as The Annual Black Friday Massacre. A thousand people in line at a Best Buy, a grandfather getting thrown to the ground by a security person as he tried to save his grandson from getting trampled, pepper spraying sprees at Wal-Marts, people being hospitalized over the new XBox 360.

God Bless America?


Meanwhile, in the waterfront town of Port Washington, NY, where my younger brother lives, we ambled in the sunshine sticking our noses in glorious roses still in bloom. 


~ God bless Mother Nature and this sweet beautiful old earth.

May We Remember This

Thanksgiving Prayer

We come to this table today, 

O Lord, humble and thankful and glad.

We thank Thee first for the great miracle of life, 

for the exaltation of being human, 

for the capacity to love.

We thank Thee for joys both great and simple-

For wonder,dreams and hope;

For the newness of each day;

For laughter and song and a merry heart;

For compassion waiting within to be kindled;

For the forbearance of friends and the smile of a stranger;

For the arching of the earth and trees and heavens and the fruit of all three;

For the wisdom of the old;

For the courage of the young;

For the promise of the child;

For the strength that comes when needed;

For this family united here today.

Of those to whom much is given, much is required.  

May we and our children remember this.

Amen.


My mother shared this Thanksgiving prayer with us many years ago and I've read it at the table ever since, always choking on the second to the last line. Of those to whom much is given, much is required; 


This describes my mother in a nutshell. It was her mantra.


The last Thanksgiving my family was together, with both my mother and father, (who had divorced in my teen years), was ten years ago. Mom died three weeks later. 


Holidays are bittersweet; we miss loved ones who are no longer with us, Mom. Aunt Nip. David Ross. Uncle Ken. Cousin Derek. Meri. Scar. Nell. Aunt Dois. Rip. Pamela...so many more. 


For some, it's difficult to be with the ones who are still here. Open your heart to those people especially...


I wrote yesterday, judge nothing. Try it for a minute at a time.


Give thanks for all of it. 


Be glad for the newness of today.


xo b

Judge Nothing

I confess to feeling off my blogging game after being out of town for a few days and Thanksgiving upon us. 


It matters that I show up. 
It matters that I share something worth reading:
a story
a poem
a quote
a photo


I'm working on taking things lighter, as advised by Virginia, wise and charming 93 year old who lives out at Mrs. Bush's Personal Care Home where Dad resides.


Take things lightly, she told me.


I've been practicing this two word mantra to help me along...


judge nothing.
judge nothing.


I read this somewhere recently; it stuck.  


Whisper it as you examine your face in the mirror, judge nothing, or when you're stuck in traffic, judge nothing, or at the market behind the woman with the overstuffed shopping cart, judge nothing


Whisper it tomorrow over turkey, or tofu


Whisper it with family and friends


Whisper it to yourself


judge nothing judge nothing judge nothing 


It's harder than you might think but it's a gift to practice.


It's a freedom piece, a space-maker, a portal.


judge nothing.