“We do not become healers.
We came as healers. We are.
Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become storytellers.
We came as carriers of the stories
we and our ancestors actually lived. We are.
Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become artists. We came as artists. We are.
Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become writers.. dancers.. musicians.. helpers.. peacemakers. We came as such. We are.
Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not learn to love in this sense.
We came as Love. We are Love.
Some of us are still catching up to who we truly are.
“Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!”
-Henry Scott-Holland
Remembering Samantha, Ben, Stephanie, Nancy, and two of my friend’s Dads (Heidi and Judi)…. until me meet again!
Now the sweet season of introspection, quiet, peaceful snowscapes, good books, long nights, welcoming fires, warm hearths, cozy afternoons, wanderings, deepening, dreaming, awakening…
We celebrate this longest night with a glad heart, knowing that with each subsequent day, the sun will grace us with ever more moments of light. Each day more light.
May our lives, our very souls know this too; each day more light!
O Winter ruler of the inverted year… I crown thee king of intimate delights, fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, and all the comforts that the lowly roof of undisturbed retirement, and the hours of long uninterrupted evening, know.”
-William Cowper
“Let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.”
“it matters what voices you listen to, it matters what books you read, it matters what you buy, what you do with your money if you have it and how you interact with those who don’t have it, it matters who you surround yourself with and why, it matters where you put your life labor, it matters where you put your love labor, it matters where you put your creative labor and what you create and why, it matters what you let into your life and what you are willing to live with, it matters what your relationship to the planet is or isn’t, it matters how you respond to danger at the door…even if it’s at your neighbor’s door.”
