Sunday, December 12, 2010

"Expectation is the root of all heartache."

I just saw this quotation in my twitter stream. It struck me as though someone had slapped me upside the head. I've had some unmet expectations lately, and they have brought me down.

Antidote? Live in the present moment, even though that includes an incessant whine from a power tool next door on a day too hot to close the windows. 86 degrees in mid-December. Sorry to those buried in deep drifts in the upper midwest!

I am mindful, at this moment, of so many blessings that outweigh a couple of unmet expectations.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Doubts and Fears, Confidence and Synchronicities

To live content with small means;
to seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion;
to be worthy, not respectable, and
wealthy, not rich;
to listen to stars and birds,
babes and sages, with open heart;
to study hard; to think quietly,
act frankly, talk gently,
await occasions, hurry never;
in a word, to let the spiritual,
unbidden and unconscious,
grow up through the common
--this is my symphony."

This poem, by William Henry Channing, has been a fixture in my office for about a year now. I have it posted near my computer where I can reflect on it. I don't remember where I first saw it. It seems to resonate with many people who see it. In the past few weeks, I've run across it a number of times on others' blogs and that reminds me of the synchronicity and connectedness of us all.

There are some doubts and fears in my life right now; self-doubt, fears for some friends facing major challenges. Finding the synchronicities gives me a feeling of comfort and the confidence to remember this too shall pass, and life is precious right at this moment, with all of its pain and beauty, challenges and opportunities, fear and certainty.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Long time passing

I took a needed break from blogging and having a personal presence on the Web. I don't know what, exactly, brings me back but it feels right to dip my toes into the shallow end of the pool and see what happens.

I was inspired to look at Mary Oliver's work again, after reading a post at ChezSpud, and the following poem resonates today:

"Can You Imagine?
For example, what the trees do
not only in lightening storms
or the watery dark of a summer's night
or under the white nets of winter
but now, and now, and now - whenever
we're not looking. Surely you can't imagine
they don't dance, from the root up, wishing
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly
more shade - surely you can't imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind,
and then only in its own mood, comes
to visit, surely you can't imagine
patience, and happiness, like that."

- Mary Oliver