Posts Tagged ‘love’

“I don’t know Who — or what — put the question,
I don’t know when it was put.
I don’t even remember answering.
But at some moment I did answer
to Someone — or Something —
and from that hour
I was certain that existence is meaningful
and that, therefore, my life in self-surrender, had a goal.”
~Dag Hammarskjöld

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Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made

or dark images you hold about yourself.

They remember your beauty when you feel ugly…

your wholeness when you are broken…

your innocence when you feel guilty…

and your purpose when you are confused.

~African saying

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by: Dawna Markova

I listen to the silence I have in the past called, inertia.

What I hear is almost a voice in the hollowness.

It is almost a hunger, a keening in the emptiness.

Not the kind of hunger of the body….

It is the sound of sacred hungers,

the desire to germinate that is within every seed in the soul.

It is the calling of talents and potentialities

that wait to bud in the dark recesses of ourselves,

beneath the static cacophony of everyday life.


The more I listen, the more I can hear these hungers

echoing in the stillness.

They seem to be calling for a few basic soul needs to be filled:

to express and receive love…

to be present with and for what we love…

to know and be known…

to be peaceful and satisfied…

to create peace and satisfaction…

to be acknowledged as making a difference…

and to acknowledge that others make a difference to us…

to find meaning and purpose in life…

as well as having meaning in our existence.


If you move very fast and stay very busy

and live in a very noisy way,

never relating to inertia or the truth stillness can bring,

you may never even hear these hungers.

But if you let yourself be as still as a big old spruce tree

in the middle of a virgin forest,

if you are willing to explore the dark shadows

on the other side of passion, you will hear them too.

Because the seeds of life that are in all of us

want to expand outward.

The shell around each seed that grows thick to protect it

must crack if the seed is to sprout.


What is known and familiar must fall away.

And just as you can here your stomach grumbling

when your body is hungry,

so, when the shell gets too thick,

if you listen really deeply in the silence,

you will hear your soul keening.

Sacred hungers keep pushing at our edges,

wanting us to let go

of the old ways we have kept ourselves secure

so we can expand into blossoming the life-force of

what we love.


Sometimes though,

in forgetting to relate to our need to open and

let the world into our hearts,

we abandon our passion.


When you are very still

in a place without words,

steeped in silence,

when the world is elsewhere with its noise and motion,

what are the sacred hungers that echo

inside of you?


I Will Not Die An Unlived Life

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~Be Still

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Those who understand others are intelligent,

Those who understand themselves are enlightened.

Those who overcome others have strength,

Those who overcome themselves are powerful.

Those who know contentment are wealthy,

Those who proceed vigorously have willpower.

Those who do not lose their base endure,

Those who die but do not perish have longevity.

~Tao Te Ching (Ch 33)

translated by Derek Lin

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For Strong Women

by: Marge Piercy

(discovered in:  The Heroine’s Journey)

A strong woman is a woman who is straining.

A strong woman is a woman standing on tiptoe

and lifting a barbell while trying to sing Boris Godunov.

A strong woman is a woman at work

cleaning out the cesspool of the ages,

and while she shovels, she talks about

how much she doesn’t mind crying,

it opens the the ducts of the eyes, and

throwing up develops the stomach muscles, and

she goes on shoveling with tears in her nose.

A strong woman is a woman in whose head

a voice is repeating, I told you so,

ugly, bad girl, bitch, nag, shrill, witch,

ballbuster, nobody will ever love you back,

why aren’t you feminine, why aren’t you soft,

why aren’t you quiet, why aren’t you dead?

A strong woman is a woman determined to do something

others are determined not be done.

She is pushing up on the bottom of a lead coffin lid.

She is trying to raise a manhole cover with her head,

she is trying to butt her way through a steel wall.

Her head hurts.

People waiting for the hole to be made say,

hurry, you’re so strong.

A strong woman is a woman bleeding inside.

A strong woman is a woman making herself strong

every morning while her teeth loosen and her back throbs.

Every baby, a tooth, midwives used to say,

and now every battle a scar.

A strong woman is a mass of scar tissue

that aches when it rains…

and wounds that bleed when you bump them…

and memories that get up in the night

and pace in boots to and fro.

A strong woman is a woman who craves love

like oxygen or she turns blue choking.

A strong woman is a woman who loves strongly

and weeps strongly…

and is strongly terrified…

and has strong needs.

A strong woman is strong in words, in action,

in connection, in feeling, she is not strong as stone

but as a wolf suckling her young.

Strength is not in her,

but she enacts it as the wind fills a sail.

What comforts her is others loving her equally

for the strength

and for the weakness  from which it issues,

lightning from a cloud. Lightning stuns.

In rain, the clouds disperse.

Only water of connection remains,

flowing through us.

Strong is what we make each other.

Until we are all strong together,

a strong woman is a woman strongly afraid.

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