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People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child — our own two eyes. All is a miracle.
Thich Nhat Hanh
Tags: Quoting
Hello dear reader! I’ve come up from under a mound of boxes to say hello!
We are in what we hope to be our forever house now (at least till death do us part), and I am running around like a crazy person trying to establish a sense of order. The house is filthy and shabby, some places downright gross, and no matter how much I mop and clean, it remains stubbornly dirty. Fear not, I shall reign victorious!
In between my mop and sponge wielding, I unpack, lose and find things; look for electricians, plumbers, woodworkers; pick out windows, doors, cabinets, tile, counter tops, paint, and floors. Not one room of this house will be forsaken.
In other great news, we are sleeping in our own comfortable bed! I am taking fantastically long and guilt-free baths in a temporarily pink tub! We are now proud citizens of Colorado Springs, which, if you didn’t know is a pretty snazzy place.
We remain absolutely awestruck that we chose such a magnificently beautiful patch of earth, with the stunning views above a mere ten minute walk from our house! Over the coming days, months, and years, I will do my best capture it all and share it with you.
But for now, I’m pooped. See you later…
We were together. I forget the rest.
Walt Whitman
Tags: Quoting
Don’t scorn your life just because it’s not dramatic, or it’s impoverished, or it looks dull, or it’s workaday. Don’t scorn it. It is where poetry is taking place if you’ve got the sensitivity to see it, if your eyes are open.
Philip Levine
Tags: Quoting
When I am thirsty, I gulp down water. I do not pause for breath, no matter the size of the glass. No matter if it dribbles down my chin and leaves me gasping for air. Satisfaction, happy at the sweet taste. Water. At first I thought this was a metaphor for my life – me lustily taking it all in, senses on high alert, music, trees, words, mountains, wildness overflowing from my lips. Sometimes, yes.
But I am also the sipper. I take a single drop, and it spreads like sunrise, small then big, big, bigger. I stop and crouch, examine the leaf, the rock, the blade of grass. I pick up the feather and watch it fall, a whole minute if I am lucky and the wind is right. And it is beautiful. The gulping and the savoring. They are the same, really, all love.
