What will be flows naturally from there

<i>Accept</i> what is, <i>let go</i> of what was, and have <i>faith</i> in what will be.

Accept what is

Accept what is
Let go of what was
And have faith in what will be.

So true, and so easy to say. I’m guessing, because I’m unenlightened, but those actions may finally become easy once I have achieved enlightenment.

From all I’ve read, they are integral practices for achieving it. From my own experiences, I am most content when I live them, no matter how briefly I am able to do so. Accept, let go, have faith. It’s hard!
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Now and Love

A moment in perfect time

A moment in perfect time

If I can make the time for it
Give it my full attention
Allow the experience
To permeate my being

There is no future reward
No past achievement

More meaningful
More fulfilling
More exquisite

Than the experience
Of this very moment


There are but two secrets
To living fully, completely

The other is


Remembering this
I am humbled

Living this
I become divine

Our fetish for stuff ~ Wallace Shawn and Karl Marx give you the shirt off their back…

The Fever

Commodity Fetishism

Commodity Fetishism

One day there was an anonymous present sitting on my doorstep — Volume One of Capital by Karl Marx, in a brown paper bag. A joke? Serious? And who had sent it? I never found out. Late that night, naked in bed, I leafed through it. The beginning was impenetrable, I couldn’t understand it, but when I came to the part about the lives of the workers—the coal miners, the child laborers—I could feel myself suddenly breathing more slowly. How angry he was. Page after page. Then I turned back to an earlier section, and I came to a phrase that I’d heard before, a strange, upsetting, sort of ugly phrase: this was the section on “commodity fetishism,” “the fetishism of commodities.” I wanted to understand that weird-sounding phrase, but I could tell that, to understand it, your whole life would probably have to change.
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You can’t make an omelette without chopping a few mushrooms

On a sunny Sunday morning
The world outside my kitchen window not yet stirring
But for songbirds singing
And the rustle of leaves in the breeze

Chop chop chopping mushrooms
The sharp chef’s blade falling falling falling
On the cutting board, slices of mushroom brushed aside
Readied for sizzling butter and onions

You can't make an omelette without chopping a few mushrooms

Making an Omelette

Each strike of knife upon wood
Echoes back through the screened window
From sun-bathed apartments across the street
I appreciate the beauty in this moment

More chop chop chopping
You can’t make an omelette
Without chopping a few mushrooms
On a sunny Sunday morning

Adama and Roslin ~ Discovering love in the quiet moments.

One of many beautifully rendered scenes from the fourth and final season of Battlestar Galactica. Admiral William Adama has fallen in love with Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Cobol. He hasn’t told her yet. He hasn’t even admitted it to himself, yet. But he is just about to. For the moment, he allows her to be an intimate friend, one with whom he’s made the habit of reading to her favourite yarns while she undergoes treatment for the cancer which will take her all too soon.
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Letting go ~ Won’t you stay? Jackson Browne soothes the road.

The last time I really, really had a hard time letting go, I took a road trip through the American West. Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Colorado, Utah, Arizona …

Every time I’d see a white Toyota Highlander on the highway (you can’t imagine how many there are, especially in rural California) I’d think of her. That’s what she drove.
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Love Came Calling

Love Came Calling

A Silent Slipping Away

Love comes calling
To visit a while
Warmth and caring
Intimacy and laughter
Passion and expansion
A change
External … internal
No matter
A rage
Or wrenching goodbye
Or silent slipping away
The loving is gone
Yet love lingers on
Because I love the being
Not the loving Read more »

Alive in the World ~ Jackson Browne coaxes me out of my shell

Alive in the World

I want to live in the world, not inside my head
I want to live in the world,
     I want to stand and be counted
With the hopeful and the willing
With the open and the strong
With the voices in the darkness
Fashioning daylight out of song
And the millions of lovers
Alive in the world
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