Do you associate the idea of a muse with professional artists who have fine arts degrees and make money exclusively from their artistic talent? These “artsy” folks may seem very far from who you think you are: unapproachable, sometimes weird and moody; creatives who are so “into” their art. They always complain about their muse […]
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Poetry Corner: The Heart of Compassion
Live on in the spirit of freedom,stretching your Self beyond beliefto soar in infinite blissful flight,and dance with the man in the moon. Life is just—experience, sosing out loud your silver song,then breathe in blessed silence,nestled among your loving hearts. Seek with the eyes of your soulthe angel spirit who lives withinand allow yourself the […]
Chess as Meditation Practice
Who would have thought it? Chess as a form of meditation? Well, according to my search engine results, quite a few people have thought about it already. One can look at meditation as preparation for playing chess. One can look at the game as an opportunity to detach and clear the mind; chess as meditation […]
Poetry Corner: The Shell
Gentle shuffling, tumbling,currents flowing, opening, closing, oozing, knowing, bubbles floating, soft insides trembling,hard shell shielding. Stomp, stomp.Crack the shell.No more fortress,all is not well! Pain inside flowing out,only the shell remains.The rest is finally freeto merge into grains. Carried then by waves onto the sand, hard still,but oh, so fragile;I lie in your gentle hand, waiting. © 2000 Joanne […]
On the Art of Being Good Space
Ever wonder who that person was years ago who carried your name? We tend to think of who we were before major life changes as being like someone else, right? And yet, there’s a continuity as well. I am still that second-grade girl feeling the presence of Jesus in the stained-glass dome of St. Michael’s […]
Poetry Corner: Teddy
He lies now in her memory bin,chocolate and cream,sandwiched between herdaughter’s board books and herson’s lambswool comforter. Not as plush as in the picture,that hand-tinted photo of the two-year-old girlholding him, silky-new, not yet smelling of lost youth’s dust. She looked passively into the camera,just inks of black, white and grayuntil the tinter stroked her […]
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