a writer’s prayer

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A prayer for my now:
Help me to greet the world as I truly am—
whole–enough–flawed–wild–open
And not how I wish the world to receive me—
separate–good–perfect–tame–limited.

Truth. Is. Being. Real. Connected. A speck in all.

❤ becky j suzik

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brain compost

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A few truths about caring:
Caring hurts.
Caring is inconvenient.
Caring is–most times–thankless.
Caring changes things for the good.
Caring matters.
Caring is muy importante!

I went to the woods and a wise Leaf Owl stared penetratingly at my core and hooted, “Please care!”

So I was inconvenienced and sad while I picked up a giant stash of uncaring.
(Carrybag brought to me by the river and “WalMart. And thanks human!

Walking home I felt less sad.
Hmmm. Thinking about my woods and her creatures no longer attempting to eat or compost the naughty carelessmess.
I was also carrying this little poem-ishy thing:
Brain compost!

Thank you woods.
Thank you Leaf Owl.
Thank you trash.
Thank you humans visiting the woods.

Thank YOU for reading….but most of all, thank you for caring.

Take sweet care!
all my ❤
bjs

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courage

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odonohue 2016127

Hello Dear Ones,

I’ve been thinking–more like feeling, really–so much about the courage it takes to be human… each day: Feeling and honoring the power each of us possesses to choose the beliefs and focuses of our heart, mind and hands.

human being
Ever seeking.
Ever expanding.
Ever exploring.
Ever aging.
Ever becoming.
Finite yet gifted
with infinite possibilities.

Sending you my love and gratitude for miraculous ways you –and all of us humans– enrich this worldly human experience.

❤ becky

prayer for nows

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prayer for now

The hope for the future of all life upon earth lies with us humans. (Yes, us. You and I.)

Should we choose to use our human energy and attention
–now and every now to come–
in self-love, not selfish,
with love for all life,
using our nows with intention,
listening to people we would rather not,
in guardianship, conscious utilization and reactivation of earth’s resources and finite gifts:
Our collective next-nows will hold the potential to create a more beautiful future for humanity, and for all our earth.

(Let me be most mindful of the significance of the power of creativity and my “nows,” and trust the tomorrows shall take care of themselves.)

I have much work–and many nows–to do. I hope.

all my love (dedication and prayers) for us all, becky

our secret reflection

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❤ David Whyte’s masterful poem All the True Vows beckons, honors, advises and reminds me of our personal splendor: our own secret and sacred possibility. Every time I hear, read, and re-experience these words, my heart breaks open while refilling with wonder, discovery, and possibility.

I am deeply grateful for each day I have to possibly live my secret vow, and to witness how you choose to honor yours.
❤ becky

(Thank you to Maury Liwerant’s lovely photography combined with Mr. Whyte’s recorded voice.)

All the True Vows, by David Whyte

All the true vows
All the true vows
are secret vows
the ones we speak out loud
are the ones we break.

There is only one life
you can call your own
and a thousand others
you can call by any name you want.

Hold to the truth you make
every day with your own body,
don’t turn your face away.
don’t turn your face away.

Hold to your own truth
at the center of the image
you were born with.

Those who do not understand
their destiny will never understand
the friends they have made
nor the work they have chosen

nor the one life that waits
beyond all the others.

By the lake in the wood
in the shadows
you can
whisper that truth
to the quiet reflection
you see in the water.

Whatever you hear from
the water, remember,

it wants you to carry
the sound of its truth on your lips.

Remember,
in this place
no one can hear you
no one can hear you

and out of the silence
you can make a promise
it will kill you to break,

that way you’ll find
what is real and what is not.

I know what I am saying.
Time almost forsook me
and I looked again.

Seeing my reflection
I broke a promise
and spoke
for the first time
after all these years

in my own voice,

before it was too late
before it was too late
to turn my face again.

 

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