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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, September 1, 2013

Walking Dead

“Burnout is nature's way of telling you, you've been going through the motions your soul has departed; you're a zombie, a member of the walking dead, a sleepwalker. False optimism is like administrating stimulants to an exhausted nervous system.”
― Sam Keen

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Oh Lord
Sometimes I wake up
It can be in the middle of the night
It can be in the half light of morning

And say to myself
“I cannot do this any more”

I cannot get up on more morning
I cannot talk to one more person
I cannot deal with one more fear
I cannot get up, and get dressed
And walk out the door to work
One more day

I cannot continue
Down that road called life
Carrying all the mistakes I have made
Remembering all the friendships I left along the road
Dealing with all the inner demons
That bite and
Gouge
At what is left
of
me

Sometimes I feel
Like the walking dead
A sleepwalker
One whose soul has departed

But the day is still there
The work is still to be done
The road stretches on
And so

I put one foot in front of the other
I feel the earth beneath my feet
I hear the sound of birds singing
And feel the breeze on my face
I see the smile of someone I know
And I know that I am still alive

I go inside
And rummage around
The shabby remains of my inner self
And there
In a corner
I find a scrap
Of the sacred
Just a piece
So small
But still, there, real
And cupping it in my hands
I hold this treasure
Gently
I hold this treasure
Hopefully
I hold this treasure
Tightly

and then the spirit grows
then the spirit flows
then the spirit moves
and with its power

transforms

and I am once again
connected with my soul
my God
my life

and I say to myself
we
we can do this

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