I came in from the freezing wind this afternoon, lit a fire and found these words -
by Mary Oliver.....
It doesn't have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot or a few small stones; just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don't try to make them elaborate, this isn't a contest but the doorway into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak.
To which was answered, in a voice that came out of my mouth, yet from a far greater Source than my own head "The ONLY responsibility is to 'in JOY' it fully, carry the frequency of this experience deeply in your SELF. Remember this feeling, always. Know it. Share it. Because there is a tendency to fear and lack developing in the world and we need witnesses to this Other way of being."
We sat in dazed silence for a while then made our way back to the car never really talking about what happened.
Flash forward about 10 days...
I awoke in the middle of the night and sat straight up in bed, the face of an old friend I hadn't spoken to in over 10 years, clear in my mind. I walked over to my computer and googled his name. At least 2 pages of results came up, I sent an e mail to one of the addresses. Within minutes I received a response. M. was in Baghdad working with an NGO, the situation had become too dangerous for him to continue his work there and he had been trying to get out safely for several days, unsure if he would be able to get out at all. M. was in a very dark state of mind. I listened quietly as he shared a horrific story with me, followed by a heartbreaking silence. Having nothing else I began to tell him about our day at the lake in Marin. I spoke each detail carefully, wanting so much to share with him the full experience of that day. Another long silence and then a shift happened. M thanked me for "bringing much needed light into his dark corner of the world". The next day he made it out of Iraq to a safer place.
Indeed, I step aside, trust, and the 'other' voice does speak....
Real Magic
by Mary Oliver.....
It doesn't have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot or a few small stones; just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don't try to make them elaborate, this isn't a contest but the doorway into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak.
About 4 years ago in late July I spent a perfect-sun-shiny-breezy-clear-blue-sky-day with Y. at a lake in Marin, California .
About half way round the lake we found a bench right at the edge of the water and sat. The sun on the water caught the ripples left by a family of ducks swimming. The bouncing light was dazzling and hypnotic. One of the baby ducks separated from the group, swam straight towards us waddled out of the water and stood right at our feet. The ducklings' head cocked to one side as if to say "hey, what'cha doin'?", he lingered for a bit then swam back out to the group. Within a few minutes it came right back to us, and tipped it's downy head again. The tiny duckling repeated this routine several times, as if weaving a thread back and forth between us and the flickering golden light on the lake. It was at this point that dear Y. broke the sacred silence and asked "...what must we owe, what responsibility do we hold for the privilege of enjoying so much beauty?"We walked slowly and fell into that comfortable, meditative silence that comes so easily out in nature.
We sat in dazed silence for a while then made our way back to the car never really talking about what happened.
Flash forward about 10 days...
I awoke in the middle of the night and sat straight up in bed, the face of an old friend I hadn't spoken to in over 10 years, clear in my mind. I walked over to my computer and googled his name. At least 2 pages of results came up, I sent an e mail to one of the addresses. Within minutes I received a response. M. was in Baghdad working with an NGO, the situation had become too dangerous for him to continue his work there and he had been trying to get out safely for several days, unsure if he would be able to get out at all. M. was in a very dark state of mind. I listened quietly as he shared a horrific story with me, followed by a heartbreaking silence. Having nothing else I began to tell him about our day at the lake in Marin. I spoke each detail carefully, wanting so much to share with him the full experience of that day. Another long silence and then a shift happened. M thanked me for "bringing much needed light into his dark corner of the world". The next day he made it out of Iraq to a safer place.
Indeed, I step aside, trust, and the 'other' voice does speak....
Real Magic
