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Tag Archives: courage

Look up at the stars – Writers’ Well

27 Tuesday Mar 2018

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

courage, creative collaboration, creative writing, creativity, stars, stephen hawking, writing, writing prompt

hawkings

Once again I’d like to share with you one of the prompts used in last week’s session, though I find myself wishing I could share more. Not more prompts necessarily, but more of the magic that is generated in those 90 minutes, which race by at a rate of knots, and last week left me catching my breath at the courage and beauty and wisdom I’d witnessed in what was written and shared.

So, I’d like to share our warm up, a piece of writing completed in just three minutes. Last week, the topic was to simply respond in any way you wished to the following quote from the beloved and now sadly missed Stephen Hawking;

‘Remember to look up at the stars.’

This is what I wrote:

Sometimes it’s important to leave the curtains open, the window open, your eyes open, even if you should be sleeping, you should be conserving energy, you should be sensible and not walk in the garden with a coat over your nightie and look up because you might catch your death. But you might catch life, winking at you or even shooting you a dream and being so glad to find you there, awake, looking up, ready to catch.

 

What’s up there beyond the furthest star you can see? How old is the star still shining its light at you despite being long gone? Look up. Look up and get ready to catch. The sky won’t fall in.

 

Have a wonderful week all, and remember to lift your head, tilt it up to the sky, and dream…

 

If you enjoyed this prompt, then you can find more here:

https://wordsthatserve.wordpress.com/upcoming-writing-workshops-and-some-prompts-for-you-to-play-with/

and here:

https://wordsthatserve.wordpress.com/writing-prompts-the-elements/

War on Walls

21 Wednesday Jun 2017

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

berlin wall, change, compassion, courage, grow, new, poem, poetry, strength, trump, walls

28 years ago

we took down a wall

that had stood for 28 years

and now the world wants

to build more walls

 

but all walls have cracks

inviting prayer notes

laced with tears

where colours grow

for no wall is impenetrable

if you find the weak spot

tiny tender roots can reach

 

28 years ago

we took down a wall

that had stood for 28 years

and now the worst walls are inside

but joy and hope still thrive

despite the hate and scorn poured on

love finds the fault lines and flaunts

the beauty and boldness

that heralds the strength of softness

crumbling rigid stone that refuses

to give and so breaks

 

28 years ago

we took down a wall

that had stood for 28 years

so now we need

a war on walls

to stop them being built

before the next generation

is left fighting

to take them down again

 

Forest of Fear

03 Friday Mar 2017

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

courage, dream, dreams, fear, fun, humour, poem, poetry, rhyme

There’s a forest of fear

Where magic feels near

But not all of its white

And eyes give me a fright

As they look at me deeply

To greet me, or eat me!

I don’t really care

Just don’t wanna be there

So I run but the trees say

‘No! That’s the wrong way!

Your dreams are still waiting

Deep on the inside

For years now already

They’ve endlessly cried

‘’Don’t leave us we need you

And love needs you too!

We cannot be shared

Until you bring us through!’’’

***

So I stopped and I breathed

Though my back was still turned

The trees held their breath

Oh how my heart yearned

To turn, run straight back

to hug those wise trees

go into that forest

and set my dreams free

But I took a step forward

A small step away

Then felt my whole body

Go weak; tremble, sway

***

The time was now, I turned around

Is it just me, or can trees look proud

And as I approached that forest of fear

Quietly at first, I began to hear

My dreams at its centre, egging me on

‘Have faith, we’ll protect you

We need you! Come on!’

***

Once over the threshold, I hugged the lead tree

Then onward, eyes closed (it was too dark to see)

I used other senses to follow that path

Walking and stumbling right into the dark

The noise from my dreams getting louder now

They’d started to sing! (don’t ask me how!)

That melody lit up the path to the core

And I ran, ‘cos I just couldn’t wait anymore

The deeper I went, the more light I saw

Until, at the centre, I stood in awe

Surrounded by dreams that I’d hatched through the years

But that hadn’t yet grown, because of my fears

I cradled them gently as tears slowly fell

Showering dreams that began to swell

Follow me friends, it’s high time to leave!

And back through that forest we ran and we weaved

My dreams ran ahead and behind and beside

My heart felt miles high, miles deep and miles wide

Until I could see – there’s no forest at all!

Or at least it became infinitesimally small

As me and my dreams fly high up above

Smiling and singing on thermals of love

 

For Emergencies Only?

05 Sunday Feb 2017

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Uncategorized

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

awareness, beauty, clarity, compassion, contemplation, courage, creativity, gratitude, joy, life, meditation, spirituality, writing

meditation2image credit: www.insightmeditation.org.nz

A conversation with a dear friend yesterday, reminded of this piece I wrote over three years ago. I needed to re-read it, so thought it might have value for you too – enjoy 🙂

At the moment I meditate like I take vitamin C – in emergencies only. OK, I’ve used that word lightly, but it’s true. I find myself caught in the habit of using the preventative as cure, which works to an extent, but prevention is better. My mother once told me of a tradition where you paid your doctor every month – unless you were ill. That was the month you didn’t pay, because you doctor had not done their job well enough. Now THAT would revolutionize the NHS (our beloved National Health Service here in the UK, which itself is becoming rather sick due to government spending cuts…).

There was a time, not so long past, when I had a very regular and treasured spiritual practice. I would meditate daily for an hour, with days off being a rare exception. And there was a time, not so long past, when my diet was more balanced, when I was more aware of what my body needed and where it could get it. I didn’t need vitamin supplements

Before beginning to teach on this one month intensive English Language Course, I felt a sore throat coming and my left ear had begun to complain with an inner pain that hinted at possible infection. I bought vitamin C supplements and slept for the afternoon. I was lucky, and whatever had threatened to pay me a visit decided not to stick around. I felt well the next day. I was grateful to my body, but it made me think.

This weekend I noticed my ‘being VS doing’ scale was feeling overwhelmingly tipped in doing’s favour, so I went to our Sanctuary here. This is a dedicated silent room, with a candle in the centre and chairs arranged in circles. I went into Sanctuary with the intention of catching up on some ‘being’ time.

Oh sweetheart, it doesn’t work like that. The vegetables I’m growing can’t be drowned in water one day and left thirsty for the next three. Little and often. My children’s novel won’t get written if I wait for those times when I have a whole weekend free. Little and often. My soul will not find its way closer to God if I think I can make up for regular daily practice by sitting with great intensity and purpose for, oh, a whole hour. My mind is like a well composted garden bed; it grows weeds with as much success as flowers and veg.  If I weed it every day, the flowers will thrive. If I leave it too long, the weeds will have taken much of the nourishment for themselves, not to mention they’ll have grown tall and thick enough to hide the flowers completely. Weeds are powerful, believe me, I played tug of war with nettle roots recently and it was a closer run thing that I’d like to admit.

As I was weeding, liberating the spent daffodil bulbs from their cages of ground elder and nettle roots, my compassion began to grow for those thoughts, that light, that love and creativity that is missing out on my attention and energy, because the weeds of ‘To Do’ and ‘obligation’ have been allowed to grow out of control. When they reach this point of overwhelm, it’s already too late for ‘little and often’, and ‘one thing at a time’ must be engaged instead. To manage the overwhelm I have to focus on one task at a time, in order to be fed by the satisfaction of seeing something completed before digging for the energy to focus on the next.

I did spend a few precious moments with our sweet peas though, checking on their progress. When I saw how the delicate, finger like tendrils had perfectly and neatly curled themselves around the string of the rough frame I’d created for them, I was mesmerized. How do they know where the string is? How do they know they must wrap, and climb, and stretch towards the sun in order to flower and thrive? How many years, hundreds, thousands, of evolution has it taken to create this plant with such precision and perfection that it follows some divine inner instruction with such grace and lack of effort that we barely notice how clever it is?

How do I come to such a place of busyness that I believe I can catch up on my journey towards greater wakefulness by having a single hour of silence?

Writing this has brought me to humour, which has brought me to a more peaceful place, which has brought me to a willingness to accept what I already know – I have to give conscious attention to the important things ‘little and often’ or the unimportant things will grow to hide what really matters, and it will take much more time and effort to re-reveal those true priorities again.

Happy inner gardening folks🙂

Gardens: sweet peas  //www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/oct/19/gardens-sweet-peas

 

Patchwork of Peace

02 Thursday Feb 2017

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

community, compassion, courage, creativity, gandhi, gratitude, peace, poem, poetry, song

ocean

I find it’s time for me to offer this patchwork I’ve been stitching together over the last couple of weeks, made up of words of my own, words of others, woven through with the intention to warm and sustain. If you don’t like the design of my quilt, I welcome that. Unfold yours and show it to me – I want to see. Blessings be!

peace-quilt

(image from peace quilt ideas on Pinterest)

I’ll start with this poem I just wrote:

Shout louder! We’re not being heard!

Listen deeper – is there something I’m not hearing?

He’s wrong, we have to stop him!

His actions hurt, how do we heal them?

Come together, we’ll be stronger!

Dare to differ, can we stretch each other to expansion?

It’s a crisis! Act now!

I’m in crisis, should acting wait ’till I’m more peaceful?

We need answers!

I’m sitting with questions.

gratitude

image: http://markromeromusic.com/

My Thank You Note to President Trump

A radical, perhaps unexpected, note of thanks.

 

And let’s close with a song:

Dare dream

04 Wednesday Jan 2017

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

beauty, belief, courage, daring, philosophy, poem, poetry

I wrote the first version of this for a friend who asked for a poem on the power of belief when I was writing three minute poems to order at a Christmas Fair. I’ve since played with it further because I could do with that power right now. And so I share the poem with you…and, just maybe, through the poem…I share with you that power of belief. May 2017 be the year you believe, trust and dare…greatly!

Love and blessings of belief to you all xxx

 

Would the sky

tut tut the stars

for shining too far?

***

Do the oceans laugh

at arrogant mankind

for failing yet

to know their depths?

***

There is more

in your heart and soul

than you dare dream of

in your philosophy

+++

so defy impossible

stretch it far

beyond that long extinguished star

whose light continues

yet to shine

beyond and through

the joke of time

***

disbelief nets no

soul

willing to face the truth of

freedom

and fly through the gaps

that appear only when you

see

 

 

 

 

I Will Be Faithful T0 Me

13 Thursday Oct 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

celebration, courage, creativity, faith, joy, poem, poetry, song, soul, spirit, trust

This is a song I wrote a while back, before I started blogging. It feels appropriate to remind myself of this feeling right now. I can remember singing it as I was cycling home from work in the sunshine, looking forward to a day off the next day…just singing and singing to remember it as the joy and playfulness filled me, pedaling at full speed until all my breath was used up and I finally got home to write it down. Enjoy 🙂

 

I’m creating a sacred day tomorrow

Whatever else comes

I will be faithful to me

Celebrating creator me tomorrow

Whatever else comes

I will be faithful to me

Singing, and dancing and playing the day away

Writing my seminal works in a cute cafe

Coffee and cake and a pizza to take away

***

I will honour the joy in me tomorrow

Whatever else comes

I will be faithful to me

Celebrating the love in me tomorrow

Whatever else comes

I will be faithful to me

Kindness and laughter will follow me all the way

A smile and a wink and a joke makes a happy day

Hugging you tight till the sadness has flown away

***

I will honour the God in me tomorrow

Whatever else comes

I will be faithful to me

Celebrating the God in me tomorrow

Whatever else comes

I will be faithful to me

Sitting there silently listening the day away

Hoping and praying a better world than today’s

Knowing I’m never alone

Not in any way

***

I will live now as if there’s no tomorrow

Whatever else comes

I will be faithful to me

I will open my arms now to every joy and sorrow

Whatever else comes

I will be faithful to me

Letting go fearlessly nothing can worry me

Open my heart and my mind and I’m truly free

Giving myself and all beings the space to be

What we are

 

 

 

I’m here to…

13 Thursday Oct 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Uncategorized

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

courage, creativity, curiosity, life, love, play, purpose, spirit, writing, writing prompt

I woke to a question in the comments on the post I wrote yesterday. Did I write with this prompt this time, when I found it again? I hadn’t, but I couldn’t resist the invitation. So I’ve just written with it, and chose to expand on the fourth sentence this time:

 

The most important thing life has taught me about why I’m here is…that that reason is light, playful, changing. I shouldn’t try to contain it, or define it too rigidly, because it’s made of love, it’s super responsive and ever changing…and it doesn’t get overwhelmed! It’s not a ‘thing’, it’s a direction, a journey, and I need to look out, listen out, feel in to the signs, the guidance, the invitations, so that I stay on the path…even if I never make it to the destination. It’s not something to carry, it’s not a burden – this purpose has an intelligence, a beingness all of its own. I have to dance with it, not tether it, I’m here to partner it, not be its servant. I’m here to let it stretch, challenge and inspire me into new, further, deeper expressions of who I am. I’m here to let it garden me, so I can find out what fruits are yet inside me that have still to ripen and be offered.

 

Hmm, I wasn’t expecting that…

I’d love to read your responses, if you give it a go 🙂

 

Valour

14 Tuesday Jun 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

acrostic, courage, fun, peace, poem, poetry

Verily I bid you friends, be bold

And face this world with courage in your hearts

Love conquers all, or so we have been told

Oh let no time be wasted, we must start

Unanimous in dreams of reigning peace

Relinquish fear and let the violence cease

Desire

16 Monday May 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

acrostic, courage, desire, dreams, haiku, magic, poem, poetry

Dreams fill the dusk dull room

Emboldening the very air to

Shudder with the weight of

Infinite possibility

Risk dances a tender waltz with fear

Enrobed in the vestments of the bold

 

 

And a catch up haikrostic too:

 

Dedicated friend

Only begs your loving too

Grateful wagging tail

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