“It’s a matter of talking their language. You have a little feel for tradition and some courtesy, you’d be surprised, you can unscrew the inscrutable.” –Tennessee Steinmetz, The Love Bug
“The gate to heaven is everywhere.” ~Thomas Merton
“Poets are always taking the weather so personally.” –J. D. Salinger
“Human beings are so made that the ones who do the crushing feel nothing; it is the person crushed who feels what is happening. Unless one has placed oneself on the side of the oppressed, to feel with them, one cannot understand.”
“Hold your own. Know your Name. And go your own way.” –Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes
“Wherever you are certain in your knowing takes on a fire. . .a life.” –Bahauddin, father of Rumi
“One of the truest signs on maturity is the ability to disagree with someone while still remaining respectful.” –Dave Willis
“The poet knows himself only on the condition that things resound in him, and that in him, at a single awakening, they and he come forth together out of sleep.”
~ Jacques Maritain
“To see is that specifically human capability that opens one up to empathy, to compassion with all that lives and dies.
Merely looking-at the world around us is immensely different from seeing it. Any cat or crocodile can look-at things and beings, but only we humans have the capacity to see. Although many of us, under the ceaseless bombardment of photographic and electronic imagery that we experience daily, have lost that gift of seeing, we can learn it anew, and learn to retrieve it again and again the act of seeing for the first time, each time we look at them.
When the eye wakes up to see again, it suddenly stops taking anything for granted.
Leaf, rosebush, woman, or child, is no longer a thing, no longer my “object” over and against which I am the supercilious “subject”. The spilt is healed. It is at once de-thing-ified. I say yes to its existence. By “seeing” it, I dignify it, I declare it worthy of total attention, as worthy of attention as I am myself, for sheer existence is the awesome mystery and miracle we share.”
a microcsopic anatomy
of the whale
–William Carlos Williams
“What can turn us from this deserted future, back into the sphere of our being, the great dance that joins us to our home, to each other and to other creatures, to the dead and unborn? I think it is love. I am perforce aware how baldly and embarrassingly that word now lies on the page—for we have learned at once to overuse it, abuse it, and hold it in suspicion. But I do not mean any kind of abstract love (adolescent, romantic, or “religious”), which is probably a contradiction in terms, but particular love for particular things, places, creatures, and people, requiring stands, acts, showing its successes and failures in practical or tangible effects. And it implies a responsibility just as particular, not grim or merely dutiful, but rising out of generosity. I think that this sort of love defines the effective range of human intelligence, the range within its works can be dependably beneficent. Only the action that is moved by love for the good at hand has the hope of being responsible and generous. Desire for the future produces words that cannot be stood by. But love makes language exact, because one loves only what one knows.” ~Wendell Berry
1. Reminders that rage is not negative, even though it is hard work.
2. How being unsettled moves me into new territory.
3. My delightful and funny colleagues.
4. Quiet and solitude
5. Collage–taking seemingly unrelated bits and putting them together into a unified whole. So, collage, or quilting, or life.
May we walk in Beauty!