Pearls

October 15, 2018October 15, 2018 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Oh, the precious lessons

along the way!

They seem so hidden

at first –

but when they arrive,

or get uncovered,

they shine with brilliance.

We trudge and troll –

weary of the path,

tripping in the same old ways…

but when our eyes

dare to look anew,

we may spot a pearl.

Its presence

is grace revealed.

Its beauty

releasing us

of our misdirected ways.

A pocket full of pearls

is the treasure of

transcendence.

Keep your pearls close you.

They whisper and lift

as you continue on.

The Gray

October 6, 2018October 6, 2018 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

It seems easier

when what feels clear and true

is always right, too.

It is a comfort

when the ground on which

we stand and build upon

has the strength

of generations

or habit.

We like our side of the street.

The other side

is far away, and

difficult to see.

It is not important to us.

For all is clear where we are.

It feels safe and protected.

In between these sharp edges

of clarity

is the territory

of the gray.

It is a fuzzier place.

The ground seems shakier.

We are repelled by it –

but, at times,

a bit curious, too.

Mostly,

we prefer familiar ground.

Thankfully, life ends up instructing us

along the way,

through hardship and insight,

to be more open to the gray.

Our edges get worn down

and are revealed to us

as false structures.

In the middle,

is the place of softening

and opening up.

It is the place of meeting –

of healing.

Life is less

black and white

in the gray.

There are new choices to explore,

colors to adore.

When we can learn

to embrace

this middle place,

wisdom is born,

along with a letting go

which liberates

and brings us together.

When we enter the gray,

we have learned the value

of dropping

what does not matter.

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Loss For Words

October 3, 2018October 3, 2018 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

When I have a moment

or three,

I like to sit

and light a candle.

I open my laptop

and position my hands…

my fingers are at the ready.

I wait for the words.

Sometimes they arrive

rather quickly.

Lately,

for reasons only my soul knows,

not so much.

I wonder why this is so.

It has been a challenging time

of late

with a health issue here –

relationship issues there…

My mind and heart

have been busy

and not in the good way –

the way of truth and inspiration.

My spiritual training teaches me

that my distractions of late

are just that –

DISTRACTIONS.

They have a quality of

friction –

and friction usually

rubs the wrong way.

It can also hurt and harm

when it keeps going

and the tender places

get wounded.

My task now

is to reorient myself.

It is time to surrender

in faith

and allow myself to be lifted

out and beyond

anything that keeps me

from being

who I really am.

It is time to heal.

So, no more scratching the itch

of all that seems

to be rubbing –

keeping me focussed

on the discomforts of life

that are not real.

Instead, I will mindfully

let go of all that.

It is time to step aside

from the personal

and be here wholeheartedly

as a channel for the divine –

to be a beneficial presence.

What could possibly be better?

It takes practice –

and attention –

moment to moment.

This is not what we are taught

but it is available to us

as the literal,

ANSWER-

the one we all seek.

I speak the truth.

The fact I know that

means I am on my way…

So, here I go.

Perhaps this larger

expanse of view

will bring

my words back to me

so I can be helpful

to others

as the divine reaches

through everything I offer

as an expression

of divine love –

always available,

but not always seen.

It seems a beautiful endeavor.

Poem · Poetry

Making the U Turn

September 21, 2018 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

When the trip wire

gets touched

and partially healed places

wound again,

take a breath.

Your usual patterns

of blame and retaliation

will not serve you.

In fact,

they will deepen the wound.

The truth is

the world will always

try to trip you up.

And the world

is everything outside of you.

To survive with grace

and even joy,

no matter the obstacles before you,

live from the inside.

That is where truth lives –

the place of your divine self.

Nothing outside of you

can destroy your peace

without your permission.

Turn away from drama.

Go deep.

Look at yourself.

Poem · Poetry

Solid Ground

September 12, 2018September 12, 2018 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Though the waters may rise,

and the winds build strength,

daring to knock me over,

I know where I am standing.

My feet firmly placed,

I face forward

with my heart wide open –

ready to meet Life

with courage and hope.

Yes, the storms come.

They cause their damage

on the surface of things –

attempting to make my day to day

difficult and sad.

Yet, I persevere…

for I dwell in

what is real –

I live in the Truth

which holds me up

and anchors me:

I am Love.

I am Peace.

I am Joy.

So, when the winds blow,

I choose to live

from the ground up.

I bend,

and I smile.

I am present for the lessons while

I hold onto my roots,

staying safe.

Poem · Poetry

This Golden Crack

September 5, 2018September 5, 2018 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

Like a canvas

before the artist’s brush,

we get our markings.

Our unique hues

and textures

create the picture

of what seems to be true

about us.

But sometimes life is lived

more like a ceramic pot –

one that gets cracked

along the way…

shattered, even –

the mending of which

is complicated work.

It takes the artist’s hands

and keen attention to detail

to put the pieces together,

beautifully.

It is a necessary process.

This breaking,

followed by the recognition of the mess,

enables us to be held

and mended.

When we submit to the

Master’s hands,

and allow for the

hard work to be done,

we are fashioned anew.

Our cracks become golden

and essential.

We are forever changed, and

we shine with humble strength

from our broken places.

Like the Velveteen Rabbit,

we have been loved into

becoming more real.

Tea bowl Tea bowl — ; Japan; 17th century; Stoneware with clear, crackled glaze, stained by ink; gold lacquer repairs.; H x W: 10.5 x 12.2 cm (4 1/8 x 4 13/16 in); Gift of Charles Lang Freer

Poem · Poetry

Entering the Dance

August 21, 2018August 21, 2018 becomingandbeholding3 Comments

When the winds are shifting,

and change is here,

I sometimes shudder with

fear, which blankets my heart

in a covering so itchy…

the restlessness it brings

grows like a cancer,

consuming health.

I wonder out loud,

and through every pore –

my cells scream

No!

The resistance builds a wall

around my soul,

and I begin to hide.

I grieve…

the tears wash over

all the tensions and aches,

bringing yet another baptism.

Eventually, I remember

that changes bring a

kind of birthing process…

and I know there is

something beautiful coming

after this pain.

I love how tears

release and inform

all at once – as if

we must break, deeply –

apart and before

we can be refashioned.

These very insights, eventually

bring gratitude.

I know,

it does’t make sense

to the logical mind…

but it is the dance of Spirit

within and beyond me.

When I learn to

accept the invitation to

the dance of life,

letting go of my need to

lead it,

I get lighter on my feet,

and my being

finally hears the music

and is wrapped in comfort

and delight.

I am set free.

Poem · Poetry

Each One, A Mountain

August 11, 2018August 11, 2018 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Everyone has something…

It is a mantra that is inwardly voiced

more and more

as I get older.

We each have our own brand of challenge.

As life progresses,

these challenges unfold

and introduce themselves.

Sometimes they swallow us up

with the force of a big ocean wave…

Or, they might creep upon us

like a spreading mold.

We get to choose

how to respond

when our personal mountain

shows up.

For some,

the mountain may be too vast

to climb alone –

so we bring loving souls with us.

For others,

the mountain may be a series of hills

which warrants a solo journey –

each vista building strength within.

We may fool ourselves, thinking

that our mountain

is bigger than anyone else’s –

that somehow,

our mountain warrants

special attention…

But as we mature,

and build our climbing muscles,

our compassionate heart opens,

our personal nature fades,

and our vision widens

to see what others endure.

Our climbing becomes

the road to awakening

to what this life

is all about.

Yes, we each have a mountain –

especially designed for our own unfolding…

but as we meet it,

with grace and courage,

the vista that comes,

connects us to the

suffering of others.

This is the stuff of

a life well-lived.

So, I bow to my mountain –

giving thanks for its lessons…

for without its presence,

I would walk with blinders on,

tripping on my own feet,

and all alone.