how would it be to allow for knowing and not knowing: allowing room for the mystery of creating to be able to wonder softly without needing to understand everything to trust in the process to trust in love to trust in the mystery and wonder of the universe that beats softly wildly true all round about us, that is hidden in the mists in the clouds and the rain in the wind blowing and the rain lashing down on your window, reminding you poetically prosaically that this is where you are, on the island, at the edge, in a place of finding and refinding, and remembering to remember the feel of the mist, wind and rain.
I first discovered this wonderful poem on Radiating Blossom and found it to be an invitation to open to not knowing, to allow space for mystery, and to feel what’s present in the moment.
I first received the gift of these beautiful words below over on Val Boyko’s Find Your Middle Ground blog. I’m sharing because it seems so fitting and is a beautiful invitation for how to give birth to the next moment, to live into whatever’s next.
~ From “What’s True Here” New Poems and Other Writings
by Danna Faulds
“This is what I have to say to you. Savor the fruits of a lifetime of growth and evolution. I’m not suggesting that you rest on your laurels and declare yourself done. But its time to bask in the sunlight of your soul and let that warmth reach deep inside your bones.
The next stage of your life will rest upon a foundation of gratitude, grace and celebration. Grace simply comes when it comes and isn’t in your control. Gratitude can be nurtured and fertilized by paying attention to the gifts that come your way, saying thank you, internally and externally appreciating your life as often as you remember. Celebration means taking stock of how far you’ve come and letting delight and wonder lead the way.
What you are giving birth to today is bigger than your usual perception of yourself. Its okay that you have no idea what’s coming next. How could you? Just stay open and the universe will do the rest. Gratitude, grace and celebration are the keys.”
Daily by Naomi Shihab Nye
These shriveled seeds we plant,
corn kernel, dried bean,
poke into loosened soil,
cover over with measured fingertips
These T-shirts we fold into
perfect white squares
These tortillas we slice and fry to crisp strips
This rich egg scrambled in a gray clay bowl
This bed whose covers I straighten
smoothing edges till blue quilt fits brown blanket
and nothing hangs out
This envelope I address
so the name balances like a cloud
in the center of sky
This page I type and retype
This table I dust till the scarred wood shines
This bundle of clothes I wash and hang and wash again
like flags we share, a country so close
no one needs to name it
The days are nouns: touch them
The hands are churches that worship the world
I first came across this poem over at Karl Duffy’s Mindfulbalance blog. I found it to be a lovely reminder of the peace that’s possible amidst my day-to-day activities, and how, in a way, we are all connected through the act of taking care, of living.