Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Small things

So the small things came into their own: small acts of helping others, if one could; small ways of making one's own life better: acts of love, acts of tea, acts of laughter. Clever people might laugh at such simplicity, but, she asked herself, what was their own solution?
                                            Alexander McCall Smith, The Good Husband of Zebra Drive

It is the small things
That are the big thing

Random acts of kindness
Call them what you will

It is not so much the big gestures
But the little things

Sometimes unnoticed
That reflect true love

It is not masses of flowers
Or boxes of candy
Or romantic dinners out that prove love

It is acts of coffee (or tea)
Acts of laughter
It is the picking up of dirty clothes
Putting down the toilet seat

It is listening at the end of the day
Or taking the dog for his walk

These are what make life better
More loving
These are the things

Saturday, February 10, 2018


How did the rose
Ever open its heart
And give to this world
All its beauty?
It felt the encouragement of light
Against its being,
We all remain
Too frightened.

Anyone out there afraid?
Afraid of failing
Afraid of bad things happening
Afraid of Muslims, or Christians
Afraid that the country will fall apart
Afraid that we are as power hunger as we seem
And as racist?

Anyone out there afraid?
To open their hearts
To open their minds
To God’s new thing

Anyone out there afraid
To take a risk?
Love the unlovable?
Ache for justice?
Mourn for the oppressed?
To say “I love you” first?

Afraid to be humble?
Afraid to turn the other cheek?

These are difficult things
These are “sacred” things
But they make us vulnerable
We might get hurt

Only radical trust in,
Radical connection to,
The Sacred
Will allow us to open ourselves to the wonder

Of love

Only the light of Sacred Presence
Will free us
to open our hearts
our minds
our hands

and give

Friday, February 9, 2018

It is time

“If, then, I were asked for the most important advice I could give, that which I considered to be the most useful to the men of our century, I should simply say: in the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you.”
                                           Leo Tolstoy, Essays, Letters and Miscellanies

We are constantly assailed
With voices from outside ourselves
Telling us what is true
What to believe
What is right
What is wrong

We are constantly responding
Our hearts beat
Our heads roar
We are in turmoil

There is something ugly in all of this
All of this fear and anger
All of this exultation and ecstasy

For our emotions become weapons
Used against other
And sometimes, even, against ourselves

It is time
It is past time

To Stop
To Breathe
And then to listen

To the voices within
Not to the bully that lives in our brains
But to the voice of the Sacred that comes from that deep place
That place that persists
That is the truth

It is time
It is past time
To look at the sunrise, to feel the breeze
To wonder at the mountain
To watch the deer leap gracefully
And the fox glide through the field

Time to look around at that which comes
From the voice of the Sacred

It is time