WORDS LIKE LIGHT 

Sunday, August 29, 2021

ALLOW

            More and more, it seems to me that true happiness comes only when I live with the spirit of allowing – when I’m willing to permit more than prevent. I’ve spent far too many years trying to keep things from happening – trying to fence my small self in so that I won’t be hurt by the countless enemies I seem to see around me, enemies like mistakes and misfortunes and fears.  This kind of fencing-in and fending off and turning aside can be exhausting, and now, at 79, I’m tired of being tired, and so I’m doing much more allowing than preventing.  I’m reveling in the joy of simply stepping back and giving life the permission to carry on as it wishes to. After all, life is a generous patron, an infinite, bountiful giver, and all I have to do is stand aside and welcome its bighearted contributions. Daily life’s gifts come in many forms – joys, disappointments, successes, failures, understanding, ignorance – all containing wonderful wisdom wrapped in various ways. My task – my opportunity – is to simply allow. I need to stand aside with a smile and enable life to flow through me with its thoroughness and astuteness. I need to bow and give my blessing to worries and pleasures and troubles and triumphs, for they are all consummate gifts from the grandest of all givers. 

WE CAN ALWAYS COME HOME
A Sonnet

We can always come home again to life
by simply opening this moment now
and seeing that the problems and the strife
of all our days can actually allow 

the light of truth to silently unfold
for us. This quiet, steady, loyal light
is even inside sorrow and the cold 
discomfort of defeat, and just the sight 

of it can help us know that we are still
at home, inside the simpleness of now. 
Each moment is a door that can fulfill
our hopes. We simply have to smile and bow

and truly welcome anything that’s there,
for everything brings light that clears the air. 

WORDS LIKE LIGHT 

Thursday, August 12, 2021

EMPTY (v.)

         I have spent most of my life gathering and hoarding, and now, at 79, it’s time to start emptying. I don’t mean this in a negative way, as if I want to start sadly giving things away because I’m getting closer to death. No, I’m thinking of emptying as a creative and liberating process, an opening-out to the boundless realms of the universe. Instead of always grabbing, I want to start giving, the way rivers give themselves to the seas.  I want to unload my longings and cravings, and feel the freedom of flowing instead of the captivity of clasping. I want to be a breeze that joyfully empties all of itself, moment by moment, into the infinite wind. 

GIVING GIFTS
 
One day,
a certain man was ready to give gifts.
First, he gave the fountain of his love
to a lonely-looking person
shopping among melons at a market.
Next, he gave some thoughts
that sounded like a song
to a little part of the sky
that seemed to shine in a thorough and thoughtful way,
the way he liked to live,
though his life often fell off cliffs of mindlessness,
which is mostly why
he decided to do some giving on this day,
just donating what he always has,
which is endless and bountiful,
as gifts to be found by the universe
as it floats and falls and rises, 
with him, forever.