my family visited a beautiful open space on the solstice, lined with luminaras and the astronomical society was out there with telescopes. the right combination of nerdy and symbolic. Peeping through the telescopes I saw Saturn and Jupiter flickering in the black. Walking in the dark with a path lit by candles in paper bags full of sand, the world felt at ease. And Jan Richardson's line came to mind,
"This is the night
when you can trust
that any direction
you go,
you will be walking
toward the dawn."
time experienced through seasonality is how i want to walk home. And yet i live in a place where I have to drive home and back into the light pollution of the cityscape. The road home lined with bright signs for restaurants that chainsmoke their way across the country. I begrudge them not, we are but a flickering light in the cosmos doing the best we can, walking toward the dawn. The evening was a pause, a resettling of my hand on the earth's heartbeat, the turning of seasons.
Couldnt make it at 8:30am EST today but sat with the recording later today - and I've been trying for what feels like a lifetime to release my breath, the clutching around my heart et al. I've said it to myself more times than I count; made it many a New Year's resolution and on and on...but for some reason this afternoon I Heard the invitation, the invocation and it finally found me where I live. Lo-Fi & Hushed is an immense and incomparable gift, Paul. Thank you.
Paul, thank you for being a part of the community of practice. May this season of anticipation, of transitioning into winter, support that invitation. I appreciate your presence in this circle...and not just because us Pauls stick together :). Blessed Advent, Paul!
Dearest Paul, I wanted to thankyou for Lo fi and Hushed. As I live on the other side of the world in the southern hemisphere, I don’t join you live but I listen in on my Thursday morning when I wake up. I read the poem on the Wednesday when you post and then carry it with me until the next day when I sit in practice with you. It brings me so much Peace. You are a Blessing. I wish you and your family, Peace , All Good and Blessings in this season. Thankyou Maritsa
Maritsa, thank you for being a part of this circle of practice! It is a gift to share in it across time and from different corners of the world. The slow turning of transformation is the grace in the gears methinks. Blessed Advent, Maritsa!
Thank you for the invitation and for all the beauty you put into the world. What you create, harvest and share means a great deal to me and so many. While I was in a deep solstice slumber this morning, I did bring your and Peter Traben Haas' conversation along with me on my solstice jog today. How centering, abiding and radiating it was. By way of thanks, I offer this winter poem -- written for my own parish's advent retreat.
my family visited a beautiful open space on the solstice, lined with luminaras and the astronomical society was out there with telescopes. the right combination of nerdy and symbolic. Peeping through the telescopes I saw Saturn and Jupiter flickering in the black. Walking in the dark with a path lit by candles in paper bags full of sand, the world felt at ease. And Jan Richardson's line came to mind,
"This is the night
when you can trust
that any direction
you go,
you will be walking
toward the dawn."
time experienced through seasonality is how i want to walk home. And yet i live in a place where I have to drive home and back into the light pollution of the cityscape. The road home lined with bright signs for restaurants that chainsmoke their way across the country. I begrudge them not, we are but a flickering light in the cosmos doing the best we can, walking toward the dawn. The evening was a pause, a resettling of my hand on the earth's heartbeat, the turning of seasons.
Couldnt make it at 8:30am EST today but sat with the recording later today - and I've been trying for what feels like a lifetime to release my breath, the clutching around my heart et al. I've said it to myself more times than I count; made it many a New Year's resolution and on and on...but for some reason this afternoon I Heard the invitation, the invocation and it finally found me where I live. Lo-Fi & Hushed is an immense and incomparable gift, Paul. Thank you.
Paul, thank you for being a part of the community of practice. May this season of anticipation, of transitioning into winter, support that invitation. I appreciate your presence in this circle...and not just because us Pauls stick together :). Blessed Advent, Paul!
😂
Paul -- These were my words EXACTLY. Thank you for saying it for me! Blessings on this release 🙏
Dearest Paul, I wanted to thankyou for Lo fi and Hushed. As I live on the other side of the world in the southern hemisphere, I don’t join you live but I listen in on my Thursday morning when I wake up. I read the poem on the Wednesday when you post and then carry it with me until the next day when I sit in practice with you. It brings me so much Peace. You are a Blessing. I wish you and your family, Peace , All Good and Blessings in this season. Thankyou Maritsa
Maritsa, thank you for being a part of this circle of practice! It is a gift to share in it across time and from different corners of the world. The slow turning of transformation is the grace in the gears methinks. Blessed Advent, Maritsa!
Thank you for the invitation and for all the beauty you put into the world. What you create, harvest and share means a great deal to me and so many. While I was in a deep solstice slumber this morning, I did bring your and Peter Traben Haas' conversation along with me on my solstice jog today. How centering, abiding and radiating it was. By way of thanks, I offer this winter poem -- written for my own parish's advent retreat.
How to Winter
First, look to the maples.
See how they bring
winter to winter within.
Branches set free
of spring and summer’s
toil, trunks hemmed in
fallen leaves. Yesterday’s
sunlight collapsing into
tomorrow’s soil.
Listen to the sky.
Hear her exhale
winter in her winter breath.
Her horizon tucked lower
-- a blanket pulled taunt --
her heavens made
clearer, ready to release
what moves through her,
in her.
Mimic night’s luxurious
stance, so that your
own stars have space
to fill in the space.
Not from effort, but from ease.
Your own Orion, that
Great Hunter, at peace.
Your own Gemini, resting
in your rest.
Now, let the season
dream it’s dreams within you.
Let your body embrace
this loosening, this letting go,
this allowing. Feel your
imagination wander –
a walk along welcoming
ways, a gift unwrapped and
held.
Promise to not forget.
To learn to untie
your knots, unfurl
your heart, unbend
your sharp corners
so that rest is for you
– just as it is Earth –
a place for undemanding
growth.
-Christine Moore
Christine, thanks for your kind words. It is a joyful endurance to wrestle with words and meaning. I feel lucky to be able to so with all.
And this poem. Gazooks! what a poem. The line slammed into my center, sunk in, and left foot prints was -
"Let your body embrace
this loosening, this letting go,
this allowing."
I will carry them with me on this eve before Christmas Eve. Christine, your parish is gifted to have a poet like yourself in their midst.