so begins another week.
the last was one of knuckling down to some hardcore work on the internal world. with that paid off i am feeling a whole lot better than i was. i find myself grateful for those i love and for reminders of why i love them. as the dark veil lifts i see their beauty. but beyond... i feel it again. feel myself connecting with the warmth it brings into the atmosphere.
this past weekend saw the first Corrymeela Summer Festival. 300 folk gathered up on the north coast for a kind of day long mini greenbelt. seminars, workshops, music, art making, exhibits, a barbecue.
i went primarily to accompany jayne, who was working at the festival - since it was her birthday i wanted to honour her with stepping out from my comfort zone of isolation. i am glad i did. i gained greatly from the mental challenge and stimulation from the likes of Donald Shriver and Nuala O'Loan, enjoyed getting to see my friends in the Lowly Knights inspiring folks to dance and was mightily impressed by The Delawares, who headlined the evening's festivities.
met familiar folks not seen in months and encountered new people who left me humbled and encouraged. laughed over wine with dear friends and felt grounded in their presence. we stayed overnight and hit the beach in the morning. i felt refreshed and awed by the raw beauty of the coastline. was awash with memories that i chose to embrace and cherish rather than pretend i was forgetting...
to feel the flooding of the self by more emotion than one can bear recede has seen productivity start to return, and words fill pages.
strands of themes start to emerge - old themes finding new expression...
two points of inspiration weaving with my own embryonic thoughts of the week... affirming me to stay on this path, to follow where my heart leads, to trust my instinct...
today's poem courtesy of the writer's almanac is a beloved one and i was grateful for the reminder...
the summer day by mary oliver...
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
"The Summer Day" by Mary Oliver, from The Truro Bear and Other Adventures: Poems and Essays. © Beacon Press, 2008.
and this, totally new to me, an incredible project... We Feel Fine...
you can get a guided tour of how the site works here at the TED site. technology is rarely this beautiful and moving...
your one life is wild and precious...
whatever you do with your one life, let your light shine, make your unique voice heard...
want more in this life than to live it vicariously... want nothing less than the real thing...
your one wild and precious life is a story in which you, and no one else, are both the author and the central character...