A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.—J. A. Shedd
a ship
Free to delight
Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn’t people feel free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?
– Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy
Be
Face anything.
Go wild.
The time is now.
Be…..
Peace prayer – Saint Francis of Assisi
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.
Signore, fa di me
uno strumento della Tua Pace:
Dove è odio, fa ch’io porti l’Amore,
Dove è offesa, ch’io porti il Perdono,
Dove è discordia, ch’io porti l’Unione,
Dove è dubbio, ch’io porti la Fede,
Dove è errore, ch’io porti la Verità,
Dove è disperazione, ch’io porti la Speranza,
Dove è tristezza, ch’io porti la Gioia,
Dove sono le tenebre, ch’io porti la Luce.
Maestro, fa che io non cerchi tanto
Ad esser consolato, quanto a consolare;
Ad essere compreso, quanto a comprendere;
Ad essere amato, quanto ad amare.
Poiché, così è:
Dando, che si riceve;
Perdonando, che si è perdonati;
Morendo, che si risuscita a Vita Eterna
I am the great sun
I am the great Sun, but you do not see me.
I am your Husband, but you turn away.
I am the Captive, but you do not free me.
I am the Captain you will not obey.
I am the Truth, but you will not believe me.
I am the City, where you will not stay.
I am your Wife, your Child, but you will leave me.
I am that God, to whom you will not pray.
I am your Counsel, but you do not hear me.
I am the Lover, whom you will betray.
I am the Victor, but you do not cheer me.
I am the Holy Dove, whom you will slay.
I am your Life, but you will not name me.
Seal up your soul with tears and never blame me.
Charles Cosley, Norman Crucifix, 1632.
May I sit in you
Dear God,
Be the foundation of my being. May I sit in you in true rest, stand in you in sure thought, and be rooted in you in endless love. Reveal yourself to me so that I may know my true nature better and act as I truly am.
– Julian of Norwich
Here I am. Enflesh me.
To paint a picture, to write a story or compose a song is an incarnational activity. The artist is a servant who is willing to be a birth giver.
[…]
I believe that each work of art, whether it is a work of great genius, or something very small comes to the artist and says: “Here I am. Enflesh me. Give birth to me.” And the artist says “My soul doth magnifies the Lord” and willingly becomes the bearer of the work, or refuses.
[..]
We lose the ability to see angels as we grow older and that is a tragic loss.”
Walking on water by Madeleine L’Engle
Praying by Mary Oliver
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Still I rise by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Walk
Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it. But by sitting still, & the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right.
Søren Kierkegaard
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