But I'll tell you what hermits realize. If you go off into a far, far forest and get very quiet, you'll come to understand that you're connected with everything

 - alan watts

tree in solitude nesodden 2010

Whatever opens us is not as important as what it opens

Mark Nepo

Present Moment at Ängsbacka Sep 2013

Hokusai Says’

I wanna share this amazing poem with you.
I´m off to Mother Crete for a month.
And magical Triopetra.
Embrace July.

Hokusai says Look carefully.
He says pay attention, notice.
He says keep looking, stay curious.
He says there is no end to seeing.
He says Look Forward to getting old.
He says keep changing, you just get more who you really are.
He says get stuck, accept it, repeat yourself as long as it’s interesting.
He says keep doing what you love.
He says keep praying.
He says every one of us is a child, every one of us is ancient, every one of us has a body.
He says every one of us is frightened.
He says every one of us has to find a way to live with fear.
He says everything is alive – shells, buildings, people, fish, mountains, trees.
Wood is alive.
Water is alive
Everything has its own life.
Everything lives inside us.
He says live with the world inside you.
He says it doesn’t matter if you draw, or write books.
It doesn’t matter if you saw wood, or catch fish.
It doesn’t matter if you sit at home and stare at the ants on your verandah or the shadows of the trees and grasses in your garden.
It matters that you care.
It matters that you feel.
It matters that you notice.
It matters that life lives through you.
Contentment is Life living through you.
Joy is life living through you.
Satisfaction and strength is life living through you.
Peace is life living through you.
He says don’t be afraid.
Don’t be afraid.
Look, feel, let life take you by the hand.
Let life live through you.

Roger Keyes

“Life will break you. 
Nobody can protect you from that, 
and living alone won't either,
for solitude will also break you with its yearning. 
You have to love. 
You have to feel.
It is the reason you are here on earth. 
You are here to risk your heart. 
You are here to be swallowed up. 
And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. 
Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” 

 ― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum LP

fragments from my kitchen

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

Mary Oliver

lifelines

r e b i r t h

Springtime often reminds me to read a beautiful poem by Karin Boye .
When we start anew it can be both challenging and sweet at the same time.
So much longing. So much to digest and at the same time declutter from both body and mind.
For me this spring is about acceptance. And patience. Self healing.
As if I didn´t know that from before.
Balancing in all areas of my life.
It´s like a very narrow rebirth.
It maybe have some sweet spots I haven´t seen yet.
Like the buds who remain so tight and tense before blossoming.

And then breathe in more space. Letting go.


Here it is, the poem, both in english and in the original swedish translation.

Of course it hurts...

Yes, of course it hurts when buds are breaking.
Why else would the springtime falter?
Why would all our ardent longing
bind itself in frozen, bitter pallor?
After all, the bud was covered all the winter.
What new thing is it that bursts and wears?
Yes, of course it hurts when buds are breaking,
hurts for that which grow
and that which bars.

Yes, it is hard when drops are falling.
Trembling with fear, and heavy hanging,
cleaving to the twig, and swelling, sliding -
weight draws them down, though they go on clinging.
Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
hard to feel the depths attract and call,
yet sit fast and merely tremble -
hard to want to stay
and want to fall.

Then, when things are worst and nothing helps
the tree's buds break as in rejoicing,
then, when no fear holds back any longer,
down in glitter go the twig's drops plunging,
forget that they were frightened by the new,
forget their fear before the flight unfurled -
feel for a second their greatest safety,
rest in that trust
that creates the world.


Visst gör det ont när knoppar brister...

Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister.
Varför skulle annars våren tveka?
Varför skulle all vår heta längtan
bindas i det frusna bitterbleka?
Höljet var ju knoppen hela vintern.
Vad är det för nytt, som tär och spränger?
Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister,
ont för det som växer
och det som stänger.

Ja nog är det svårt när droppar faller.
Skälvande av ängslan tungt de hänger,
klamrar sig vid kvisten, sväller, glider -
tyngden drar dem neråt, hur de klänger.
Svårt att vara oviss, rädd och delad,
svårt att känna djupet dra och kalla,
ändå sitta kvar och bara darra -
svårt att vilja stanna
och vilja falla.

Då, när det är värst och inget hjälper,
Brister som i jubel trädets knoppar.
Då, när ingen rädsla längre håller,
faller i ett glitter kvistens droppar
glömmer att de skrämdes av det nya
glömmer att de ängslades för färden -
känner en sekund sin största trygghet,
vilar i den tillit
som skapar världen.

Looking for your face

From the beginning of my life
I have been looking for your face
but today I have seen it

Today I have seen
the charm, the beauty,
the unfathomable grace
of the face
that I was looking for

Today I have found you
and those who laughed
and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking
as I did

I am bewildered by the magnificence
of your beauty
and wish to see you
with a hundred eyes

My heart has burned with passion
and has searched forever
for this wondrous beauty
that I now behold

I am ashamed
to call this love human
and afraid of God
to call it divine

Your fragrant breath
like the morning breeze
has come to the stillness of the garden
You have breathed new life into me
I have become your sunshine
and also your shadow

My soul is screaming in ecstasy
Every fiber of my being
is in love with you

Your effulgence
has lit a fire in my heart
for me
the earth and sky

My arrow of love
has arrived at the target
I am in the house of mercy
and my heart
is a place of prayer

audio clip - GIFT OF LOVE

 

 

I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.

~ Hafiz

Just being

You need not do anything.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
You need not even listen, just wait.
You need not even wait, just learn to be quiet, still and solitary.
And the world will freely offer itself to you unmasked.
It has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

-Franz Kafka

My wiew in this very moment - Tulum

It happens all the time in Heaven

It happens all the time in Heaven,

And some day

It will begin to happen

Again on earth --

That men and women who are married,

And men and men who are

Lovers,

And women and women

Who give each other

Light

Often will get down on their knees

And while so tenderly

Holding their lover's hand,

With tears in their eyes,

Will sincerely speak, saying,

"My dear,

How can I be more loving to you;

How can I be more

Kind?"


Hafiz

flower love - bali 2012

 

What If...

What if.....

What if religion was each other
If our practice was our life
If prayer was our words

What if the temple was the Earth
If forests were our church
If holy water - the rivers, lakes, and oceans

What if meditation was our relationships
If the Teacher was life
If wisdom was self-knowledge
If love was the center of our being.

Ganga White




horses and nature - summer in skåne 2012
click for larger view

L O V E

In the end what matters most is,
How well did you live,
How well did you love,
How well did you learn to let go?

Buddha

a present moment: birdlove in london summer2012

People whose hearts are full of gratitude and appreciation are truly beautiful.
A humble heart is the wellspring of great growth and development.


- Daisaku Ikeda -





a rock with an open heart - triopetra 2012



m o m e n t s

Rest in the pause between breaths.
Pause in the rest between thoughts.

Bask in the space between words.
Stop in the stillness between time.

--Julie Rappaport


Leaving for 2 weeks at precious Triòpetra
Celebrating the Moment(s)
Some posts along the way may sneak in.

summerfeets

Listen to the birds

Springtime is getting closer.
I´m celebrating Easter with resting, nesting & reading.
Renewal my inner space.
Shaking out that winterdust.
Still hibernating a little.
Patience. Always patience.
Planting seeds.
It is truly an adventure. This precious life.

❤




there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see

charles bukowski

shake the dust

I`am so in love with this poem right now.................
listen softly,again and again and again.....
Read and enjoy.

This is for the fat girls.

This is for the little brothers.

This is for the school-yard wimps, this is for the childhood bullies who tormented them.

This is for the former prom queen, this is for the milk-crate ball players.

This is for the nighttime cereal eaters and for the retired, elderly Wal-Mart store front door greeters.

Shake the dust.

This is for the benches and the people sitting upon them,

for the bus drivers driving a million broken hymns,

for the men who have to hold down three jobs simply to hold up their children,

for the nighttime schoolers and the midnight bike riders who are trying to fly. Shake the dust.

This is for the two-year-olds who cannot be understood because they speak half-English and half-god.

Shake the dust.

For the boys with the beautiful sisters. Shake the dust.

For the girls with the brothers who are going crazy,

for those gym class wall flowers and the twelve-year-olds afraid of taking public showers,

for the kid who's always late to class because he forgets the combination to his lockers,

for the girl who loves somebody else. Shake the dust.

This is for the hard men, the hard men who want to love but know that it won't come.

For the ones who are forgotten, the ones the amendments do not stand up for.

For the ones who are told to speak only when you are spoken to and then are never spoken to.

Speak every time you stand so you do not forget yourself.

Do not let a moment go by that doesn't remind you that your heart beats 900 times a day and that there are enough gallons of blood to make you an oceans.

Do not settle for letting these waves settle and the dust to collect in your veins.

This is for the celibate pedophile who keeps on struggling,

for the poetry teachers and for the people who go on vacations alone.

For the sweat that drips off of Mick Jaggers' singing lips and for the shaking skirt on Tina Turner's shaking hips, for the heavens and for the hells through which Tina has lived.

This is for the tired and for the dreamers and for those families who'll never be like the Cleavers with perfectly made dinners and sons like Wally and the Beaver.

This is for the biggots,

this is for the sexists,

this is for the killers.

This is for the big house, pen-sentenced cats becoming redeemers and for the springtime that always shows up after the every single winter.

This -  This is for you.

Make sure that by the time fisherman returns you are gone.

Because just like the days, I burn both ends and every time I write, every time I open my eyes I am cutting out a part of myself to give to you.

So shake the dust and take me with you when you do for none of this has never been for me.

All that pushes and pulls, pushes and pulls for you.

So grab this world by its clothespins and shake it out again and again and jump on top and take it for a spin and when you hop off shake it again for this is yours.

This is yours!

Make my words worth it, make this not just another poem that I write, not just another poem like just another night that sits heavy above us all.

Walk into it, breathe it in, let is crash through the halls of your arms at the millions of years of millions of poets coursing like blood pumping and pushing making you live, shaking the dust.

So when the world knocks at your front door, clutch the knob and open on up, running forward into its widespread greeting arms with your hands out stretched before you,

fingertips trembling,

though they may be.

Shake the dust.

Written and performed by Anis Mojgani

c o m p a s s i o n

Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth

Muhammad Ali

w e i r d n e s s

We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love. 
Dr. Suess

2 t h b r u s h l o v e




weird: definition: odd, bizarre / synonyms:

awe-inspiring, awful, creepy*, curious, dreadful, eccentric, eerie*, far-out, fearful, flaky*, freaky, funky*, ghastly, ghostly, grotesque, haunting, horrific, inscrutable, kinky*, kooky, magical, mysterious, occult, oddball, ominous, outlandish, peculiar, preternatural, queer, secret, singular, spooky*, strange, supernal, supernatural, uncanny, uncouth, unearthly, unnatural

awe-inspiring, awful, creepy*, curious, dreadful, eccentric, eerie*, far-out, fearful, flaky*, freaky, funky*, ghastly, ghostly, grotesque, haunting, horrific, inscrutable, kinky*, kooky, magical, mysterious, occult, oddball, ominous, outlandish, peculiar, preternatural, queer, secret, singular, spooky*, strange, supernal, supernatural, uncanny, uncouth, unearthly, unnatural

What does planting the seed of desire do in your life?

New month. One step closer to the light. Still cold. Winter is still young. But we can feel a tiny shift....
There are subtle signs in nature that remind us that winter is slowly waning and the sun’s light continues to grow. Light the fire of longing in your heart.

Ask yourself:
What`s my intention?  What’s my desire? My longing?

You are what your deep, driving desire is.
As your desire is, so is your will.
As your will is, so is your deed.
As your deed is, so is your destiny.

Desire is the first step.

Brihadaranyaka Upanishad

winter beauty at bygdøy

Fall in love with yourself~

Wouldn't it be powerful if you fell in love with yourself so deeply that you would do just about anything if you knew it would make you happy?
This is precisely how much life loves you and wants you to nurture yourself.
The deeper you love yourself, the more the universe will affirm your worth.
Then you can enjoy a lifelong love affair that brings you the richest fulfillment from inside out.

Alan Cohen

shadow me