Angels Inside Us

I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.  ~ Michelangelo

In Yoga, I often remind students part of what they are doing in their practice is letting go of everything that is not who they are. Just as a sculptor removes the unnecessary bits of the stone in order to reveal his creation, the poses, the breathing, the deep awareness of each moment gently unveils our true nature. Several of my teachers have used this analogy and I think it makes sense.


Instead of trying to change who we are, we are simply uncovering our true nature. From this perspective, there is no effort or striving, simply unfolding. Each of us is an angel waiting to be set free. 

Time Enough

The butterfly counts not months
but moments,
and has time enough.

~ Rabindranath Tagore

We truly live in timelessness, one moment at a time. It is an experience I am delving deeply into as I slowly recover from surgery. It is enough ~ each moment. Opening to each moment with an awe and wonder. Noticing the thoughts and emotions, often not fun, but simply what is. The beauty of the butterfly, the goldfinch, the black-eyed susan and day lilies remind me ~ it is enough, each moment is enough...

Recognize the Light of Your Soul

May you recognize in your life the presence,

power, and light of your soul.

May you realize that you are never alone,

that your soul in its brightness and belonging

connects you intimately with the rhythm of the universe.

May you have respect for your individuality and difference.

May you realize that the shape of your soul is unique,

that you have a special destiny here,

that behind the facade of your life

there is something beautiful and eternal happening.

May you learn to see your self

with the same delight,

pride, and expectation

with which God sees you in every moment.

John O’Donohue

Each time I read something from John O'Donohue, I connect with that essence he writes so eloquently about. He reminds us that in our uniqueness we are shining brightly even when we can't feel it.  How filled with wonder and astonishment I am when I look beyond the facade of my life and see the eternal, beautiful rhythm of the universe connecting us all.

Only an Instrument...

"The time left in this body is to be used helping all others on the planet
and in all realms. Remain Being and help everyone. This is not a desire, but a natural surrender; you are just a tool, like a bank teller, it is not your money that you are giving away, you are only the instrument. Always give and you will never need. If you do not give you will always be needy."                    ~Poonja

When we visited the Ringling Estate in Sarasota, Florida, I was awe-struck by the gardens and in particular, the rose garden lovingly tended by Mable Ringling from 1913-1929. It is filled with 1200 rose bushes, some varieties dating back to 1867! Of course, today, many of the roses blooming were not available for Mable to plant. The one pictured above is the Princess Diana rose and I couldn't help but consider Poonja's quote.

Though Mable lived at the estate, Ca d Oro, for only three short years before dying of diabetes, she and her husband, John, created an epicenter of cultural life on Florida's west coast. Their passion for art and culture continues to  Of the few details known about her life, Mable was not a flamboyant woman, and she did not seek the spotlight in either society or show business. She was a leader in her community, founding the Sarasota Garden Club and looking for ways to beautify the city she loved. Imagination envisions a kind, compassionate woman who loved art and culture.

Diana was truly an inspiration of all who knew of her tireless work for children and underprivileged people all over the world. She exemplified this idea of just being ~ a natural surrender ~ only the instrument.

Something to ponder ~ the time left in this body is to be used helping all others...

Wildflowers

Chicory & queen anne's lace line the roads this time of year and open my heart to the simple beauty of nature. I remember when my children were young, we would drive from our central Illinois home to northern Michigan for the summer. The roadsides were full of wildflowers, particularly chicory and Queen Anne's lace. As we neared our destination, we would stop to pick some flowers to surprise their aunts upon arrival at the lake.

Each time I wanted to include the beautiful small blue-flowered chicory, but it would always be wilted by the time our flowers were reached their new home in a vase on the table of the cabin. I wonder if those delicate flowers, like so many of us, just can't survive being taken from their home. Chicory is usually found along roadsides because it actually likes growing near warm rocks! Although an inhospitable environment for most plants, chicory finds a loving home.

Chicory is one of those biennial plants having a two-year life cycle and blooming only the second year. They grow everywhere in the United States and southern Canada reaching about 4 feet tall. This size makes them easy to spot from the road. They are wispy and graceful in the breezes that blow in the fields.

I found a photography website where a man named Brian Johnson posted beautiful close-ups of chicory. He said he picked the flowers and brought them back to his studio. How is it they stayed alive for him? Amazing to see the rich beauty of these flowers!

Oh well, now I am content to enjoy their beauty with the eyes only, not needing to pick them and bring them home. Somethings are meant to simply be...

A lifetime isn't long enough...

Life can be hard and soft at the same time. It feels that way today. Storms are roaring through the Midwest leaving so much destruction in their paths. Then the sun comes out and all is bright and beautiful. Except, of course, the stark reality of loss. Being human seems to be such a gift as well as a struggle. And it brings the ego to its knees ~ there are no tidy little answers. No way to make everything ok. At some point we have stand and say, "I surrender to whatever this is that I am a part of."

My heart is heavy from holding the sorrow, mine and all who knew and loved my husband's dear friend. He passed away on Monday doing what he loved, playing golf. Now we walk through all of steps that follow. We try to console each other. We remember the shared experiences that nurtured our friendships. We grieve and we know how very much this wonderful man will be missed.

As Mary Oliver says, " A lifetime isn't long enough for the beauty of this world and the responsibilities of you life." I believe those responsibilities include allowing all of our feelings to be expressed, the hard and the soft. We are all so deeply intertwined and the wisdom that we are one sustains me in ways I never imagined. 

"Let grief be your sister, she will whether or no..."

---

    

The poem is not the world.
It isn't even the first page of the world.  

But the poem wants to flower, like a flower.
It knows that much.  

It wants to open itself,
like the door of a little temple,
so that you might step inside and be cooled and refreshed,
and less yourself than part of everything.  

***  

When loneliness comes stalking, go into the fields, consider
the orderliness of the world. Notice
something you have never noticed before,

like the tambourine sound of the snow-cricket
whose pale green body is no longer than your thumb.

Stare hard at the hummingbird, in the summer rain,
shaking the water-sparks from its wings.

Let grief be your sister, she will whether or no.
Rise up from the stump of sorrow, and be green also,
    like the diligent leaves.

A lifetime isn't long enough for the beauty of this world
and the responsibilities of your life.

Scatter your flowers over the graves, and walk away.
Be good-natured and untidy in your exuberance.

In the glare of your mind, be modest.
And beholden to what is tactile, and thrilling.

Live with the beetle, and the wind.
This is the dark bread of the poem.
This is the dark and nourishing bread of the poem.

  ~ Mary Oliver ~

A Leaf and a Cloud