Life is an infinite island.
All goals are useless. Don’t hurt yourself, just play completely.
Thoughts develop and bloom over days and years like ice melting from the top of a mountain, and making its way through the river out to the ocean.
When you try to make someone not suffer you add judgment and expectation to their pain. If you accept their suffering you’ll calm down and naturally make them feel at ease.
Without editing, the truth of this
moment arrives at the port of the
mind. From hand to hand move ideas
and feelings, being traded like old coins
for new pleasures.
Moving through the marketplace I see
strained faces looking for bargains.
Here and there their eyes light up,
before falling into disappointment.
They walk from tent to tent until
At sunset the artists come to practice
imperfection. They juggle joy and sorrow,
they walk a tightrope over the ocean.
When the moon comes out they meet at
the corner restaurant.
Enthusiastically they share their secrets
over a warm meal. Their anxiety turns
to peace as the night ends. In bed now
I feel the river of life as the mystery
continues turning in the dark.
Be kind to yourself by allowing the space and time to resolve uncertainty. By not making a decision in haste and anxiety you can honor your current experience and your deepest values.
When you refuse a gift you don’t allow someone the opportunity to express generosity.
In relationships dependence results in fear and resentment. Independence results in equanimity and gratitude.
Waves of memory break on the shore of the mind. Some come
with a distinct clarity, swelling with profound details. Like the look
of her knowing smile that day the wind was blowing in the city.
Some come more gently, like grains of sand spilling from the peaks
of dunes. These can be held completely but their sweetness does not
linger into pain.
Looking past the waves into the ocean of memory I can see the water
shimmering, feeling the warmth of sun as it shines on this ancient jewel.
With the door open, breakfast is being cooked. An oven mitt,
a wooden spoon, and the blue flames of the stove. The first words
of the day are spoken with courage, rising out of the uncertainty
Black tea is drunk with cream as the thoughts flutter, arranging into
lists and plans. The colors of familiar feelings move over the body.
The truth gently asserts itself.
Sitting, I can see a quiet fear that moves like a heartbeat. With a
light smile I bow to the gateway of the day.