Look For Them

August 26, 2020May 28, 2021 becomingandbeholding3 Comments

You can see them on the periphery

or sometimes in small groups.

Often they are alone,

sitting comfortably and quietly observing.

These are the wise ones.

They may be bent by the years

and a little rough around the edges.

They may move slowly

and with care…

for they have learned to honor the limits.

When in their presence,

look deeply.

Meet their eyes with yours.

You will be stunned by the light of life

which sparkles with the kind of glow

that can only be fashioned over time.

Allow yourself to soak up its wisdom.

Take the time.

Don’t miss this connection.

Instead, know this:

these are the ones to know –

for they long to sing their song for you,

to tell the story.

Life has finally made them real.

If you slow down enough

to take a seat,

you will discover gold.

“Once you are real you cannot be ugly except to those who don’t understand.” —Velveteen Rabbit

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Giving Thanks

November 21, 2018November 17, 2020 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

It is far too easy

to focus on lack, pain,

or fear.

After all, the suffering

seems to be

at every bend and corner.

This is what the world gives –

the constant dis-ease

which keeps us unsettled.

But, what is – THE MORE

continues to invite us…

and heal us

when our eyes are open to seeing it –

when our arms can stretch to receive,

and our hearts dare to soften.

Giving thanks

is about giving voice

to THE MORE –

which is always present.

So, let us raise our voices

and sing the song of grace.

Let us share its music

which beats in the

rhythm of our hearts.

Let us open our eyes

and see

all the goodness

embedded in every moment.

When we do this together

around hearth or table,

the music of our voices

helps us touch

the deep places –

the ones that sustain

and heal us

and bring us to dancing.

Blessings to you

and through you.

Let us be present for each other.

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

I Can See Who You Are

October 30, 2018November 11, 2018 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

We hustle.

We bustle.

We cover up.

We avoid.

In the constant press forward,

the moments are lost.

When able to still ourselves,

we can catch glimpses of

what is real.

I sat with a patient,

one of the sweet ones

with dementia.

Her eyes alive

with love and openness…

Her speech cute and senseless

most of the time.

I am present to her

and focus on being –

instead of doing.

When the time for goodbye comes,

I touch her shoulder

and lean in.

Her eyes widen

as these words spill forth

in clarity and affection:

“I can see who you are!”

Grace finds me

and I am blessed by her glimpse.

I am reminded…

I am Love.

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Worship

October 5, 2018October 5, 2018 becomingandbeholding3 Comments

Be still my soul

when life gets wacky.

Find the quiet places.

A walk in the woods

with leaves crunchy beneath

could work –

or that comfy chair

next to a sunny window, too.

Perhaps the cat will plop with you,

rendering connection and comfort.

Find your deep breath again

and stretch yourself skyward.

Open your hands

as you open your heart.

Be lifted.

Allow your voice to rise

whether in a whisper, shout,

or song.

Lord, I need you.

Lord, I love you.

Lord, I thank you.

Now you can live your moments

in renewed presence

and peace.

Alleluia!

Amen.

Uncategorized

Ritualize the Usual

August 10, 2018 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

Poem · Poetry

Morning Coffee

June 24, 2018June 30, 2018 becomingandbeholding4 Comments

That first brewed cup,

its aroma filling the kitchen,

its warmth on the mug

as my hand hugs it –

well, it soothes my soul.

I am like a cat

looking for a lap –

the ritual invites

rest and reflection –

a feeling of peace which

connects me

to all that matters.

The silence of the morning

reminds me to

quiet my waking mind

and allow for inspiration

to visit me.

She whispers into my soul.

Sipping my coffee,

engaging with words of wisdom –

words that find me

from the writings of others, or

the ones rising up within me –

it is a morning dance

that brings me joy.

We need touch points

like this.

We are like spinning tops

without them,

turning mindlessly, and

missing opportunities

to stop and notice.

The work of the soul,

our experience of Love,

requires these pauses.

Therefore, fret not your routines.

They are roots that

hold you in place –

or scenic spots

along your journey –

they allow for a more expansive view.

I pour myself a second cup,

Feeling the ground below me –

connecting my heart

to what expands before me.

It opens like an eager flower.

I behold the blessing

of another day.

Poem · Poetry

Under the Weather

November 11, 2017November 11, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

Nothing like a virus

to help you appreciate

normal breathing.

Wheeze, sputter

blow, cough.

Normal comes to a stop.

Voice exercises?

Ha!

Good luck with that.

My pipes are clogged –

making my voice

sound like a cat about

to hurl a hairball.

Hydrate, hydrate.

Rest and sleep –

Being sick sucks.

I am not good

at slowing down –

interrupting my patterns.

I prefer to stay on track

to be in my well-crafted groove.

Huh.

Damn.

Maybe that is the point.
More tea, Honey?

Poem · Poetry

The Opening

September 6, 2017September 6, 2017 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

It is the space between
what I hear
and how I receive it.

It is the time between
what I think
and what I do.

It is the moment of rest
I sometimes allow
before the next thing.

This is the place that needs enlarging.
But I tend to keep it small,
even though it beckons me
with sweet whispers
and gentle nudges.

I hear it in the rhythm of the waves
and the rustle of the dancing leaves.
I see it in the glide of the seagulls
and the ballet of the small shorebirds
as they float across the shoreline.
Be like us,
they seem to say.
Float through your day.
It is easy
if you let go
and feel the flow.

The invitation is always there,
expansive and inviting –
a huge place of calm and beauty
waiting to hold me
with a comforting embrace.
Waiting to lead me
to the unimaginable.

But I am distracted.

I know I am not alone in this.

Thankfully,
Grace is a beautiful and patient teacher.
She has taught me many things.
I finally know that
You are in the space that calls.
You are in each breath –
especially the deep ones.
You are in me.
You are around me.
You work through me.
You need me as much as
I need you.

I have learned that turning away from you
and ignoring your sweet beaconing
is akin to a slow and lonely death.

Opening to You –
and the spaces between,
is like coming home
to who I am.