Tag Archives: mountain

Don’t Search the Mountaintop

Standard

The more you awaken to reality
the more you see that escaping
the suffering of the world
isn’t the solution or the goal.
Your spiritual path
ceases to be a chance
for you to shine brightly
in your beatific spiritual radiance
sitting alone on your mountaintop
so peaceful, so enlightened–
and it becomes you
rolling up your sleeves,
seeing what work needs to be done,
and doing it–
not for the fame or recognition
but because you earnestly
wish for your life energy
to be of benefit to all beings.
Don’t search on the mountaintop
for the most enlightened one–
look in the mirror
and then do the work
of bringing more light to this world.

These Numbers

Standard

In less than an hour, the year will change from 2014 to 2015.  I find this amusing…
I mean, what do these numbers mean, really?

They mean nothing to an eagle,
unrelenting eyes piercing
through miles of airborne search
golden eyes searching for its prey

Nothing to the blue green algae
floating free on the waves
cradled in its immense ocean home

Nothing to the raccoon
as it scavenges for food
where the urban dwellings
sprawl an intrusion
upon their woodland sanctuary

Nothing to the poppy
as it faces the sun
orange blaze dancing in the wind
orange blaze contrasting
with the deep blue expanse
of cloudless sky

Nothing to the snowflake
hovering in the air
microscopic rainbows
reflected in the surfaces
etched by angel whispers

Nothing to the blue heron
standing motionless
in twilight waters
waiting as the evening star appears

Nothing to the maple leaf
as it surrenders to gravity
and joins its many fallen brothers
on the ground
blanketing their mother’s body
with red decay
with red nourishment

Nothing to the nameless mountain
who has stood
before our earliest memories
and laughed
at the stories we have told
stories
about our greatest acts
of heroism
of innovation
of evolution,
stories
that will be swept away
in the winds of time
while the mountain
looks on laughing

Friends,
these numbers mean nothing
to everything
except us…

Let us take care
to not assign
too much importance to them.

Climb the Mountain…Blow It Down

Standard

Just a quick check in to say, I have a mountain of laundry that threatens to bury us all, and an equally large mountain of resistance to doing the laundry. I want to finish my daughter’s rainbow tote, I want to rest, maybe do some restorative yoga–I feel exhausted from this week. I’d rather create than do more work to keep the house in order.

This morning, as I was trying to help smooth the breakfast routine along, I was rinsing dishes at the sink thinking about what stands in front of me when I sit down to write. I always have this feeling of being blocked, like I really don’t have anything interesting to say, and even the first words I type will be wrong, meaningless, unimportant. If I try to come up with a title first, then there is resistance to that process, and the thought that the title won’t be pertinent.  I might try to reassure myself that I can choose a title later, but then there’s an argument to that thought too–I need to have an idea before I proceed, otherwise this will all be blather. A title gives an idea of what is coming. It helps to bring some structure to a piece.

So it came to me in a flash, all of these fear thoughts from the perfectionist and the inner critic–they really have no substance. Like really well-designed scenery on the stage of a play, they look substantial, impressive, maybe even quite real–but in the end, if you stroll behind them, you’ll see that they’re just an illusion. But they’re BIG, and intimidating, and it takes a minute for me to step back and have a good look at them; very often because they are so relentless, I might not even realize that I am not those thoughts I’m having about myself.

If I do step back, I see Mt. Everest. It’s huge, it’s impassable, and on all sides of me there are boulders, crevasses, huge chunks of ice. But no wait. That’s not really Mt. Everest. That’s just the scenery on the stage of a play. If I stroll behind it, I see–it’s a cardboard Mt. Everest! One great big breath and I blow the scenery down. Now the path is clear ahead of me.

Now I can write.

So today, I will climb the mountain of laundry…I will push through the mountain of resistance…I will blow down the mountain of fear. The first mountain will take some time to tackle. The second will take some discipline and will. The third takes just one big breath.

I can do this.