When I receive a gift I am acutely conscious of both the gift and the giver, and gratitude spreads through me. This gratitude coalesces into a wish to give something back. I long to please my giver, endow that generous benefactor with something that will offer comfort, nourishment, and delight equal to what I’ve received. When my benefactor is a place rather than a person, however, my role as recipient is less direct. I’m someone who has inadvertently stepped beneath a stream of beneficence not specifically intended for me but suddenly pouring all over me. If I wished to offer thanks, how would I do so? Does a place have consciousness, such that it can receive gratitude for what it has given just by being itself?
~ Trebbe Johnson
The Moments You Have Lived
As essence turns to ocean,
the particles glisten.
Watch how in this candleflame instant
blaze all the moments you have lived.
We owe our children – the most vulnerable citizens in any society – a life free from violence and fear.
~ Nelson Mandela
It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.
~ Frederick Douglass
For life and death are one, even as the river and sea are one.
~ Kahlil Gibran
He Is Not Dead
I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead—he is just away.
~ Jame Whitcomb Riley
We are often unprepared for life’s challenges and at times our reaction to certain individuals, instances, or events can leave us feeling ugly. Such feelings of ugliness can be pretty powerful, sometimes strong enough to cause us to lose sight of, and disconnect from, the innocence and beauty of our true essence. Slowing down and easing gradually into stillness while concentrating on the energy that fills our heart, the same energy that connects us to each other, will bring us back to the everlasting beauty of ourselves.
On its outer surface time is vulnerable to transience. Regardless of its sadness or beauty, each day empties and vanishes. In its deeper heart, time is transfiguration. Time minds possibility and makes sure that nothing is lost or forgotten. That which seems to pass away on the surface of time is in fact transfigured and housed in the tabernacle of memory.
~ John O’Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom