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28 February 2011

A Jain Prayer

A worthy prayer. A worthy practice.

We forgive all living beings,
We are friendly towards all living beings,
We seek enmity with none, 
We ask forgiveness from all.

So may it be.

25 February 2011

Gayatri Mantra, A Hindu Prayer

This is a season of prayer for me. Sometimes there are no words. When I can, I pray in the words of my heart, in the words of my ancestors and in the words of praying peoples around the earth.

 O God, you are the giver of life, the remover of pain and sorrow, 
the bestower of happiness. 
O Creator of the universe, may we receive your supreme, sin-destroying light; 
may you guide us in the right direction.
  O God, you are the giver of life, the remover of pain and sorrow, 
the bestower of happiness. 
May we remember Who is our God.

23 February 2011

What Dreams May Come

I dream the life I could have had
for I know not how to dream the life I will have. 

Yet I have decided to live in hope,
for I shall live
and I choose how I shall live.

I choose hope and not despair. 

I wait...

22 February 2011

Healing the Heart (Chakra)

Love heals all things, all souls, all hearts. Remarkably, even the most brokenhearted have enough love to heal themselves, with love to spare. Let the love that is within radiate outwards and extend to all who are beloved and all who have caused injury. Pray peace, wholeness, well-being, love and joy in the lives of those who have caused the greatest hurt. Love abounds. And it will heal and transform and renew. Inhale. Exhale. Feel the love. Share the love. Just love and be loved.

17 February 2011

I Almost Forgot to Love Myself

I almost forgot to love myself.
I don't know how it happened,
one day I was looking in the mirror and I didn't like what I saw
I criticized myself - my face, my body, my smile, my eyes, my thighs
I was even critical of the woman within.

For a moment - a long moment, much too long - 
I put my love for myself on hold
and forgot that it was there.

I lost my joy.
It wasn't gone, just misplaced.
I didn't know where to find it.

Then I saw a woman who looked like me
or who I could be
if I were fully myself
as she was fully herself.

I saw her love for herself on her face
and it was like looking into a mirror.
I saw the memory of my love for myself 
in her love for herself
and I remembered.

I almost forgot to love myself
and then I remembered
my first love, my true love.

Hello gorgeous!
Hello darling!
I love you.

12 February 2011

Midrash Remix

I heard a poet take the words of a song and craft them into a new poem. It occurred to me that such a remix might be a form of midrash. There is a rabbinic principle that every word and indeed every letter of the scripture is sacred. If so, then what new (old) meanings might be revealed when loosing the words from their temporary bonds to their neighbor words?

I want my shepherd
the green of pastures
his still waters
your rod and your staff
a table with oil
goodness and mercy
my life
long of life

the darkest valley
I shall not fear
no evil
I walk through

lie down my soul
in right paths
comfort me
in the presence of my enemies

the Lord is
he makes
he leads
he restores
he leads

you anoint me in all days
they prepare me
follow me
beside me
even though you are with me

for my head
surely shall
the whole house dwell
in my cup
before me

the Lord overflows
for you and my name’s sake I shall

11 February 2011

Luxury of Time

There is something luxurious about having the time to do exactly what I want. Work, vocation and labor can be so all-consuming that rest and leisure seem the exception and not the rule. I think the "Protestant work-ethic" has been twisted; living to work and working to live.
I am no dilettante. I need to work to survive. And I need to fulfill my vocation to thrive. Yet I'm discovering that time is a more abundant resource than I ever imagined, now that I have time to take time to take stock of my life and vocation.
This is what I have learned from forty days and forty nights of being on sabbatical.

07 February 2011

Neither Dead Nor Alive

I have a dream that will not die.
It will not stay buried.
It is neither dead nor alive.
It remains as some undead thing,
haunting me.

In truth I do not wish it gone.
I would that there were flesh on those bones
and Spirit within
breathing life
into mouldering dreams.
I am haunted by a ghost
that I have not the will to exorcise.
I am haunted
by a dream that will not die.