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A Monday meander: Time traveling

“Lotus Blooms” by artist Karen Fisher. (North Carolina Botanical Garden 2022 Sculpture in the Garden)

Lotus flowers lead harrowing journeys. Their seeds sprout in murky swamp water, thick with dirt and debris and snarls of roots. For a lotus to bloom, she must forge her way through this terrible darkness, avoid being eaten by fish and insects, and keep pressing onward, innately knowing, or at least hoping, that there is sunlight somewhere above the water’s surface, if she can only summon the strength to get there. And when she does, she emerges unscathed by her journey and blooms triumphantly.

~ Sarah Jio, All the Flowers in Paris

If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong.

~ Masaru Emoto, Secret Life of Water

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Posted in A bit of history, Aging, Beginnings, Change, Covid-19, Death, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Family, Gifts, Grandparenthood, Gratitude, Health & Well-Being, Heartfulness, Hiking, Home, In these strange times, Life, Listening, Little Peanut, Little Wookie, Love, Maryland, Mindfulness, Nature, Ohio, Photography, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Spirit, Spiritual practices, Spring, The Bogs

A Monday meander: A change in scenery

A sunrise in the Bogs (NE Ohio).

We can no longer hear the voice of the rivers, the mountains, or the sea. The trees and meadows are no longer intimate modes of spirit presence. The world about us has become an ‘it’ rather than a ‘thou.’

~ Thomas Berry

What is needed is a new pattern of rapport with the planet. Here we come to the critical transformation needed in the emotional, aesthetic, spiritual, and religious orders of life. Only a change that profound in human consciousness can remedy the deep cultural pathology manifest in such destructive behavior. Such change is not possible, however, so long as we fail to appreciate the planet that provides us with a world abundant in the volume and variety of food for our nourishment, a world exquisite in supplying beauty of form, sweetness of taste, delicate fragrances for our enjoyment, and exciting challenges for us to overcome with skill and action. The poets and artists can help restore this sense of rapport with the natural world. It is this renewed sense of reciprocity with nature, in all of its complexity and remarkable beauty, that can help provide the psychic and spiritual energies necessary for the work ahead.

~ Thomas Berry, The Sacred Universe

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Posted in Air, Autumn, Change, Covid-19, Critters, Death, Earth, Eastern Shore, Endings, Exploring, Gifts, Gratitude, Heartfulness, Home, In these strange times, Life, Maryland, Mindfulness, Nature, Photography, Pond, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Spirit, Walking & Wandering, Water

A Monday meander: A sad tale

Prayers and sunset light shining through them.

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

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Posted in Change, Death, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Family, Fire, Gifts, Grandparenthood, Gratitude, Life, Love, Maryland, Mindfulness, Nature, Ohio, Photo Challenge/Assignment, Photography, Play, Poetry, Quotes, Spirit, Spring, The Bogs, Travel, Walking & Wandering, Water, Weather, Winter, Wonder

2018 so far

On the shore.

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.

~ Rumi

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A Monday meander: Random thoughts

Empty tables.
Waiting in the woods.

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

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