A fearless rest….

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Remembering an easy gift idea.
Not cheap,
but free
and exquisite,
an ageless beauty tonic
perfect for these hurried days.

Look into your own familiar eyes,
and, even if they disappoint,
lavish on forgiveness thick

 for every misstep and bobble,
every gnarly whoops and fumble,
forgive it all
then smile,

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nodding permission
to go live your true colors.
Yeah,  get out there in the jolt and jostle of everything
and just be you.

That’ll do.

Your own heart untangled,
that fresh willowy feeling
of breathing deep and limber
settling in…..
beautiful gift,  that.
Re-apply generously
and often:)

I wish you a fearless rest about it.

joy to you
“I’m not a smart man
but I know what love is.”
-Forest Gump

 

 

Riffs of remembering….

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A vivid December wind scrolls clouds across the early morning sky
and somehow it heals the tired of me,
all this living in longing to do life simple,
to gather up the edges of my hope
and shake it out hard so I can lose the fluff
and draw up solid around me what remains,
like a blanket in the night
and feel it thump comfort
warm against my chest

and it’s a strong shot of courage that there is a bright hope
that remains
and I don’t want to forget that for a minute.

There is a lot I want to remember right now,

~that it’s not time wasted,
soaking in the presence of Love,
that basking is productive.

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~that there are angels ready and willing
and watching and waiting,
just listening for a prayer.
really.

~that prayer is so much like gardening,
it’s almost too simple,
(doesn’t much appeal to busyness and bustle)
it’s easy dance with Spirit that plants and weeds and waters
no matter how haphazard or unique to you.
(that listening is prayer,  too)

~that there is enough;
e
nough to have and be all we’re meant for
without cutting into someone else’s goodness.

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~that when we spend ourselves
throwing wood on the fire of joy in this sad world,
sometimes even belly-to-the-ground
blowing hard on graying coals,
shivering and heartsick for flame
in the cold wind of living,
it’s a beautiful thing and it matters.

In fact,  it  shrieks light against the dark
and,  whatever else this season is about,
I want to string more twinkle lights lonely places
because I’m not interested in being cool;
what gets my heart onto paper and wrapped in words
are those moments when we’re decidedly uncool,
when our hearts are hanging out there on our sleeves unguarded
and it’s all just raw and real and true.

I want to remember to say it,  the love,   when I wonder if I should,
to give it when I think maybe I might,
to be crazy generous in these tightfisted times.
Because life is too short to be cool;
I want a red hot love raging strong against the bitter cold and dark.

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“The only true currency in this bankrupt world
is what you share with someone else
when you’re uncool.”
-from “Almost Famous”

So glad to be sending a copy of my December issue of Ripplesongs
to Lady Fi;
so grateful to her for the beauty she shares and shines
(please message me,  friend,  with your address)

~

River she keeps rolling….

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Sometimes it cuts through sudden,   the blade of old ache,
so sharp it slices into the tender parts of who we are;
funny how a season soaked in merry-making
can shake loose the pain,
send it fumbling  from where it lay buried alive
and this,  too,  is gift

because sometimes in the wreckage we settle too soon
and the nails we drive to prop us up
can become the cages we can’t shake

But river Love,  she keeps rolling
a healing,  cleansing tide,
a swell of  saving connection
showing the worth and weight of our life

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And river she holds the strength and supply,  the secrets,  the stories,  the songs,
pulsing and swirling and telling
you are cherished and seen….you belong.

What if we don’t numb it back down,  braveheart,
when low thunder of grief starts to roll
remember what our true selves long for,
feel again what our hearts used to know
we were born for those wild living waters
so whatever the season may bring

just lean,  really lean,
simply lean your way in,
wade out from the shoreline or leap into the deep,
Love is the river and keeper and giver
the flying,
the thriving,
the wings.

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You are very much embraced
even when all is not merry or bright.
Lean into it.

“Love is the one thing we’re capable of perceiving
that transcends time and space.”

-from Interstellar

I want to give away a copy of my December issue of Ripplesongs,
the holiday issue.
Leave a comment and you’re in for the drawing:)
With a whole lot of love.

Prickles, pain and portals….

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Sometimes into life’s overwhelm come soft days
so thick with grace it seems the volume gets turned up loud
on your joy
and it drowns out some pain
shaking dance back into your feet,
and your heart starts taking on hope
like a ship sinking fast in a sea of beauty
as heaven storms down light so fierce
it swallows up the dark.

When you’re not there right now,
when all you can feel is the cave you crawled in
bone tired and seeking shelter,
and the gloom has worked it’s way on your soul
and you’re hungry for good air and tall sky
but you feel as weak and small as the yelp
that gets stuck in the dry of your voice,
(I know this place)

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 Can I remind you,  friend,   it’s still there,   waiting 
and you can go along the backroads of your mind
to that place where darkness once got sliced open and peeled back
and the warm buttery peace of something realer than you can see
wrapped you soft linen in love
and you saw some living light
as it smiled courage into your frightened places.

You felt it then,  remember?
You were maybe still a child but you stood beneath a portal
and in that sweet someplace you felt gentle,  undriven purpose
and profoundly okay.

crack in everything

You are brave enough to let your heart remember.

Open wide and go again….it’s unlocked to you still,
that door that is gift to uniquely you.
You’re welcome and known and waited for with great affection.
Go stand in that place
and let love sing her songs over you again.

You belong,
the starry heavens whisper,
you belong.

“There’s a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.”
-Leonard Cohen

A pray and a pour….

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I sing you bright eyes,  fresh wings and grace full and flowing,
uncluttered days,  an unhurried way
and brave forward going
(even if it’s slow)
May yours be unspoiled sleep and wide awake living,
a strong  fire burning to chase away the chill,
company that doesn’t drain you,
adventure that doesn’t strain you,
dreams that don’t drive you,
freedom that doesn’t fail you,
and a childlike wonder,
strong and sparkling  still.

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I sing you fresh flowing River pouring mystic healing light
over every thirsty place inside
and wisdom
and protection,
provision
and direction
and the sweetest sort of peace a soul can know,

and may you carry the togethering of tribe
in that place deep inside
as along the way,  wholehearted,
we  go.

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“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.
It is the source of all true art and science.
He to whom this emotion is a stranger,  who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe,
is as good as dead:  his eyes are closed.”
-Albert Einstein

Hey,  I finally dived into Instagram a few weeks ago and,  wow,  do I love it!
Such a wonderland:)
Come hang out with me there,  if you like.
(Jenniferripplespeak)