truth.

there is so much wisdom found
in just sitting with
what is.

and whatever work, you are doing in me, i say, please, do it...[what is good to remember]

because You believe in me
i have grace to greet each morning sun with joy,
even when my heart is broken,
even when it seems i don't know which way to go.
i will continue on
putting one step before the other.
and i know,
you know
what it is like to walk alone,
even yet -
you are always with me.

and though i see with such limited sight,
i know,
even when my vision grows dim...
that there is a cloud of wise counselors about me,
and unseen angels who lift me up.
i have seen you move heaven and earth on my behalf.
i have seen you touch hearts and change circumstances
that seemed too hard for me to bear.
and i have seen you stand with me
through storms i feared were too great for me to endure.
therefore, i will not fear -
even when it seems i cannot see any hope for a future.

i know each moment is the whole of my life,
and it is holy.
and it is blessed.
and it is good.
it is as simple as that.

so i thank you for this moment,
for this life that you grant me,
breath by breath.
and with each inhale, i breathe in your spirit,
and with each exhale, i breathe out your love.
may it always be thus,
as i am your child.

and to love you,
and to love your world,
with a child's heart is
a great and wondrous gift.
[selah]

then comes the moment ... [i believe].

UNFOLD YOUR OWN MYTH
(excerpt)


Who gets up early to discover the moment light begins?


Who lets a bucket down and brings
up a flowing prophet? Or like Moses goes for fire
and finds what burns inside the sunrise?


Jesus slips into a house to escape enemies,
And opens a door to the other world.
Solomon cuts open a fish, and there's a gold ring.
Omar storms to kill the prophet
and leaves with blessings.


But don't be satisfied with stories, how things
have gone with others. Unfold
your own myth, without complicated explanation,
so everyone will understand the passage,
We have opened you.


Start walking toward Shams. Your legs will get heavy
and tired. Then comes the moment
of feeling the wings you've grown,
lifting.


-rumi
translation by coleman barks

Pir - [a new hope is born in my heart ]

Pir


Inspirer of my mind, consoler of my heart, healer of my spirit,
Thy presence lifteth me from earth to heaven,
Thy words flow as the sacred river,
Thy thought riseth as a divine spring,
Thy tender feelings awaken sympathy in my heart.

Beloved Teacher, thy very being is forgiveness.
The clouds of doubt and fear
are scattered by thy piercing glance.
All ignorance vanishes in thy illuminating presence.
A new hope is born in my heart
by breathing thy peaceful atmosphere.


Hazrat Inayat Khan

please...

...don't ever underestimate
the transformative power
of the words,


i believe in you.



[they just might grant someone with ragged, tired hope, the vision
that is okay to begin the world over again]

the body remembers what the heart, with grace, wills to forget.

Today. It's painful.
The memory of how I trusted her so completely.
That night she came home at dawn.
The ten thousand ways she shattered my heart;
Sometimes I feel the prick of each shard.
Those endless moments of dying,
Of watching her heart cool to stone.
I loved her still, but love, for her was too much.
[Perfect Love casts out all fear.]
But she, she chose fear instead.

Why I had to face the dragon.

I thought of it this morning as I geared up to mount my faithful steed sojourner truth. I thought of it as I rode home from lea b's art show in the dark. I thought of it yesterday morning and the evening before that. I thought of it as I rode, eyeing the hypnotic white line at the avenue's edge block after block for miles. I've been troubled by a vision these last few days and nights, and I knew I had to find it today.

I was riding so very purposefully Monday, on my way to work, and making good time when it sailed by in my peripheral. I hadn't been sure I'd seen it correctly and turned that quick second to look. Sure enough it was there in the fast fading distance, lying straight as an arrow in the gutter, like the treasure of a once and future king.

"Where did it come from?" I wondered as I pressed forward. I had already suppressed the instinct to turn around and rescue it, and already doubted my decision. It didn't take me long to piece together a theory, a quarter mile up the road laid a fallen action figure, and further, a broken fire truck…no doubt, some child's dreams dropped unseen by a moving truck…lost without notice along the way.

But it was the sword that haunted me. Buzz Lightyears are familiar. Toy fire trucks, non-descript. But there was so much soul and handiwork poured into crafting this child's vision. The straight reed of a palm frond dragged around no doubt to approximate a tip…a crossguard and pommel of paper and clumsy tape at the hilt. I knew I had to find it again. It was too significant a loss to allow the wind and rain and traffic to claim it to oblivion.

I rode that night and again the next morning…another evening and later…a night again looking for it…imagining some child knight lost and heartbroken in some strange and foreign new home castle. I awoke again this morning thinking of it, and rode, more slowly this time, scanning the long, white line of the gutter and taking inventory of my surroundings with each new mile.

And as I trudged on…there it was! Somebody had no doubt, thrown it toward the bushes, and there it lay on its side…waiting…with resplendent intent. I had to brake hard to stop. Dismounting, I considered the coming traffic, how far I would have to run back to retrieve it, and pulled my steed to the side for safety.

In an instant, my adult world of work commute faded, and I knew this seeming crazy quest was infinitely important. It was that split second when I also heard the dragon. I moved forward, hearing my road shoes crunch against the still dew-wet morning grass. Such ferociousness! Unseen, a large and angry dog informed me of how long his teeth were, and how much he'd like me to feel them pierce my flesh.

We were making a scene. Me, errant proxy for the destitute child-knight, and this dragon of a howling dog, snarling and screaming from the bushes. I made sure the fence was high as his guttural barking grew louder and more desperate. Having reached the sword then that lay just beyond his reach, I wheeled around and thrust it victoriously into the air.

It was a ridiculous sight as I rode past mothers dutifully delivering their little ones to school…principal and crossing guards, drinking coffee…and other adults making their way by me in cars on the way to work. There I was riding along like Peter Pan's lost boy, balancing my treasured sword first this way, balancing it further along, yet another.

All I could see was rescuing this child's dream. It was as if, had I left this sword to simply fade away, the dream also, would die with it. And who can say, we can't rescue the wonder of childhood this way? And who can know for certain, to fight as a brave knight, isn't somehow this child's destiny? Perhaps, in some future and modern construct, this child-knight will be commissioned to fight a great and fearsome battle. And so much heart…so much spirit invested in even child's play rings with truth the clarion call of a journey's purpose.

Maybe this fledgling hero will brave new frontiers in medicine or physics? Maybe she will be a great visionary, inspiring sweeping social change and peace? Whatever the dragon be, I will cherish the latent vision like some otherworldly benefactress…and in this way grant the tender-budding child's heart the nobility of honouring its truth. And even as she grows becoming, may her journey - and all heroes like her - be marked with wisdom, grace, and strength.