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Tag Archives: life

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

 

Listen – Found Poem

18 Friday Nov 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

compassion, found poem, life, poem, poetry, politics, welfare

This is a ‘found poem’, from an article I read yesterday about welfare cuts. To read the whole original article follow the link at the bottom, where I have also written out the poem on its own.

 

listen

reconsider

pause

stop

send a message

across the house

prepare to return

to the people

listen

try

you know it’s there

look in the mirror

half a million people

just pause

what do we want?

impact

change

help people return to

living

For the full article:

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2016/nov/17/tory-mps-call-for-welfare-cuts-rethink-after-pause-motion-passed

Kindness comes first

04 Friday Nov 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

awareness, community, compassion, connection, humanity, kindness, life, priorities, spirituality

my-religion-is-kindness

 

A reflection I wrote to help when I need to get perspective again, and reset my priorities – Enjoy:-)

What’s more important; being right or being real? What’s more important; getting what you want or getting what you need? What’s more important; your own comfort or the dignity of another? What’s more important?  What’s most important? If first thing’s first – what’s first? Kindness. Above all, kindness. Kindness to self, kindness to all, kindness to the whole. Kindness is unconditional, soothing and inspiring. Kindness begets kindness like a smile begets a smile and kindness to self is the beginning of genuine compassion for all beings. You cannot force yourself to be kind.  You cannot shame yourself into being kind. You cannot create kindness from its opposite – it is birthed of itself and endlessly reciprocating.  Kindness comes first.

Unfinished Angel

30 Sunday Oct 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

angels, human, humour, life, poem, poetry, time

This is another re-blog – it’s a busy, reflective, re-join the dots and make a new bigger picture type of time for me, and some day soon I’ll share that picture with you.

For now…please enjoy 🙂
unfinished angelYour heart still gets frozen

You’ve yet to grow wings

but life’s not to rush

there’s still time to grow up

You’re an unfinished angel

still perfectly flawed

your corporeal body

must not be ignored

This world can be heaven

if you make it so

but halos can wait love

there’s still time to grow

You’re an unfinished angel

still earning her wings

accept being human

let real angels sing

I know you get scared love

this world’s pretty wild

in soul years my darling

you’re still just a child

You’re an unfinished angel

just celebrate that

make lots more mistakes –

you learn, and I’ll clap

Time isn’t in minutes

or hours or days

it stretches and spirals

in billions of ways

so unfinished angels

can’t look at the clock

just love and be humble

accept what you’re not

 

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 🙂

 

Making Compost

29 Wednesday Jun 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Uncategorized

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

compassion, compost, humour, life, love, mindfulness, wisdom

I’ve decided it’s time I kicked the habit of reaching for my phone and scanning the headlines each morning, before my eyes are even fully open. There must be a gentler, wiser way to welcome my consciousness back; a more helpful way to help it find its earthy feet in the new day.

From tomorrow on I will dedicate those first precious waking moments to inwardly offering myself in service to peace and the well being of the whole. In my experience the playful responsiveness of life will feed me ample opportunities to put that promise into practice, I just have to notice and act on them.

So in preparation I need to resource myself. It’s time to make some compost.

I’m no expert, but it seems to me that it’s the old, rotten, smelly, unwanted, inedible, unpalatable stuff that gets thrown on the compost. And what comes out? That rich, nutritious, dark, moist stuff that you dig into your vegetable patch and feed to your flower beds. But what of heart/mind compost?

 I’d chuck in your pain and confusion, mix in a little anger and resentment and layer up with a sprinkling of fear and overwhelm.

Good – so we’ve all got plenty of raw materials, am I right?

So what does compost need in order to break down? At the very least I’d say moisture, warmth and air. And if I’m a gardener of the heart/mind?

Song – When I sing I move, I soften, sound flows, vibrations ripple out.

Good, that’s my moisture.

Compassion – Time to stoke up the heart fire, watch those bright flames lift, throw on another log or two and don’t let it go out.

 Good, that’s the warmth.

Listening – To listen with depth and sincerity opens up a space so huge it’s like looking up at the sky while lying on your back in that field beyond right and wrong that Rumi speaks of. Nothing can fill that space – nothing is too big, or too scary, or too painful to be voiced there.

Good, that’s the air.

Ok, so I’ve got my compost and I know how to break it down. Now all I have to do…is wait.

Any gardener worth their secateurs knows you rush nature at your peril. Making compost takes sweat, and it takes time. Several months at the very least. And so with the compost of the heart/mind. Be kind. Do not expect immediate results. Be patient. Keep turning, airing, cultivating. Wait until it’s ready before you try and use it.

Apparently, when the worms have left, that’s a good sign….

Happy Compost Making!

 

 

 

 

Reverence

03 Friday Jun 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

acrostic, fun, haiku, life, love, nature, poem, poetry, reverence, source

Reaching out to touch the perfect blossom

Engaging playful wonder, ‘How could you become fruit?’

Vying against my modern mind made cynical for the right to

Envelop myself whole in the sacred beauty that surrounds

Reminding me we’ve all come from the same place, for

Everything shines with source if I make attendance openly

No need for formalities that seek to separate the sacred from the

Commonality of an everyday field of worship as I

Entreat the curious lamb to dare step closer that I might know softness

 

 

And another animal Haikrostic for you:

Rat

Rodent most reviled

Attracted by mess and smells

Travels the sewers

 

Prayer

31 Tuesday May 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

creativity, dreams, faith, life, Pig Pink skinned and small eyed I wish I hadn’t named him Got sent to marketHakrostic krosticrocticros, poem, poetry, prayer, spirituality

 

Putting my hands together as if

Reaching out to catch – what? – between my palms

And feeling their warmth incubating a

Yearning so raw and unworldly that I

Escape from the confines of intellectual understanding

Releasing winged dreams to sacred flight

 

And today’s animal Haikrostic:

Pig

 Pink skinned and small eyed

I wish I hadn’t named him

Got sent to market

 

 

Mystery

26 Thursday May 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

acrostic, haiku, life, mystery, poem, poetry, writing

Mankind grows further from innocent humility

Yielding to a fear of the unknown and unknowable, that

States if it can’t be seen, measured, proven –

Tick! It doesn’t exist

Eventually though we’ll grow far enough away to end up

Right at the beginning again, coming full circle to

Yet a deeper acceptance of every moment miracles

 

 

And today’s Haikrostic:

Mog

My lucky black puss

On her way to scare and fright

Gullible meeklings

 

Learning

25 Wednesday May 2016

Posted by harulawordsthatserve in Poetry, Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

acrostic, creativity, education, fun, haiku, learning, life, poem, poetry

Led by curiosity, forget about

Ever arriving at any final destination

And just follow what draws your interest

Right now, for wisdom lies

Not in accumulating proof of knowledge

In order to feed the illusion of control, but rather in

Never holding too tight to being right

Generously playing warm host to every question

 

And today’s haikrostic:

Leo

Luxurious mane

Extols your majesty, King

Of beasts…don’t eat me!

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