Calm

As the 4th of July parades, parties, and fireworks wind down, and the smoke clears (on various levels), today, and all week long, is a good time to renew a sense of calm. The traditional idea of Sunday as a day of rest is perhaps best upgraded to a day of calm. Even in the excitement of the World Cup, the world stage, and whatever political or personal surprises are in store for us this week, we can set our personal response at "cultivating calm", rather than setting it for drama. Summer is here. The world of Nature awaits our participation, and that too can bring calm. A walk, the work and satisfaction of gardening, the shared shelter of shade, bird song, wild rabbits and squirrels darting across lawns, frogs and fish ponds, are all offering their calming gifts.

I confess that yesterday my initial plunge into calm faltered. After the morning rush to the local parade, the rest of the day was unplanned, but my grandchildren were pushing to see the new Minion movie--not a Nature Walk! A series of events and a sudden change of plans, put me in the chaperone/driver's seat with very excited children. In a last minute rush to the nearest theater, (across holiday L.A., traffic) I turned to Siri for directions. Our usual movie spot wasn't far, but time was short, traffic was heavy, and the kids conveyed a sense of urgency. The directions warned of street closures and road work, but I just followed Siri along, until I realized we were way passed the theater area. Siri had "chosen" a different movie!

The urgency escalated in the back seat, until I could pull out of traffic, regroup and re-direct. We dodged the construction, found our usual place, and amazingly, a parking spot. There were a few more glitches with tickets, sodas, popcorn. Even though we did slip in a bit late, the kids were immediately absorbed in the story. And I had time to think about this post. I realized how tense I was--how the pressured drive, the pressured morning, was far from calm. So for me, the cushioned seat in the dark theater was the place to feed the calm and allow the body to let go. This is the way of spiritual intent. I had barely outlined this post, when I was presented with the perfect opportunity to practice it, and then, I find myself in a theater, slowly, slowly unwinding to calm.

Consider also collective calm. That may sound strange or impossible, but humanity is jointly woven, not just to Nature, but to one another. Calm is contagious. The world is large. If you cannot find contagious calm physically where you are, expand your reach. As I write now, there are between 8.3 and 8.4 billion people on the planet. I guarantee you, across the planet, there are times of calm, minds of calm, stretches of peace. Yes, there is suffering and tragedy, and yes, there is celebration and revelry. But today, I am invoking calm. And I encourage you, wherever the week leads you, to cultivate that calm space within you. (Susan Nettleton) for poetry: https://www.catholicculture.org/culture/liturgicalyear/prayers/view.cfm?id=874 https://poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/T/ThomasRS/Butsilencein/index.html https://www.graceguts.com/poems-by-others/why-i-am-happy

Summer Joy

This week, the calendar will turn from June to July, and while the week ahead will be building to to the 4th of July, I am not ready to let June go without reflecting on this short, simple poem by Larry Morris:

June is the Joy of God!

One can argue, of course, that the Joy of God is here all year long, available daily, available now in this moment, not exclusive to the month of June. Still, there is a Grace to the lens of June, and our recognition of spring that has now shifted into summer. Human emotions are far from a steady receptivity to Life as Joy. Given wars, earthquakes, fires, and deadly disease that fuel the news, how can we think about, let alone actually feel, a Joyous Universe?

Consider our human capacity to choose meaning. We give meaning to events. I am giving meaning--deep meaning--to a 6 word poem. That meaning makes me more aware of Life around me, not just the routine of days, or the jarring of world events. When I choose to see the tasks in front of me, or reflect back on the day's events, or remember conversations and/or interactions with others, placing them all in the frame of "God's Joy", the axis of meaning shifts.

We are fed by the meaning we consume. Bitter, hopeless consumption, will make your life feel bitter and hopeless. Allowing yourself a space of Joy, regardless of world events, brings renewed reassurance of Life as essential Goodness. This essential Goodness goes beyond separate self interest; it enfolds to include your concern and care of others.

Experiencing Joy in this sense, is a short cut. Paradoxically, Joy isn't something you can fabricate. You can't make yourself feel joy. Start instead by giving God, or the Universe, the freedom to be Joyful. Our fears and deep concerns about ourselves and those we care for, and our concerns about the future--our future, and world events--can harden our spiritual life. We look for understanding, yet easily turn to blame. Instead, stay open to a wondrous awareness of Joy all around you, here, where you are. As Tagore wrote, "And joy is everywhere; it is in the earth's green covering of grass; in the blue serenity of the sky." The Joy I am writing about is not your private, personal Joy. It is your your recognition, your participation, your enfoldment in the Joy of Life. So it is not a struggle. It comes to you, Joyously. July is also, the Joy of God. (Susan Nettleton)

For Poetry: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/12686/keep-me-fully-glad 
https://emilydickinsonpublicdomain.com/2026/01/12/tis-so-much-joy-tis-so-much-joy/ https://openheartproject.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/Mind-Wanting-More-by-Holly-Hughes.pdf

Life's Rhythm

This Sunday has me feeling the rhythm of life. Well, multiple rhythms. Today is Father's Day; we dedicate a day to Fathers in an annual rhythm. And, we have reached the Summer Solstice. Daylight is at it's peak in the Northern Hemisphere as night recedes. Even if today is overcast or stormy, daylight still reigns over night, shrinking a relative tiny bit, so bask in the Light as you can. The weather forecast in L.A. county has high heat warnings for the week ahead, and https://heat.gov/ shows a great swath of heat warnings across the southern U.S.A. Pay attention to all those warnings. Yet, consider the cooler evenings of Solstice light as a gift of the rhythm of Nature, the rhythm of Life.

Even with the heat, this return of Summer Solstice, like the phases of the moon, and the rotating seasons, teaches us that life is rhythmic. And in that sense of rhythm, life is music; life is dance. In the human sphere, changes like extreme heat are experienced as disruptive to our human order of life. Here in L.A county, there has been a series of fires popping up as summer begins, including a big one last Wednesday. A massive warehouse fire in Boyle heights necessitated 'shelter in place' orders, and evening, 'wear-a-mask or stay-in-the-house-until-the-smoke-clears' warnings that reached the mountain areas where I live. It took until Saturday for the warnings to lift, and then be re-instated by further flare-ups. On one level, the daily human rhythm was disrupted (putting it mildly), on the other hand, the community, certainly the fire and police departments and immediately threatened neighborhoods, and even the freeway traffic (including the influx of World Cup traffic!), shifted to the rhythms of necessity. So much of human intervention, blindly separates human activity from the Natural World. Yet, humans do respond to life rhythms. We just haven't learn to relate our actions to the rhythm of Nature all around us.

The dictionary definition of rhythm gives us 'regular recurrence" or "patterns in time" that are applied to various "natural phenomena, language, or art." But Nature is never limited to such definition. The human body is rhythmic; breath is rhythmic, cardiac function is rhythmic, sleep/wake is rhythmic. The discipline of firefighters, police, hospitals, drivers of all sorts, as well as, the functioning of stores, food sources, suppliers of all that sustain civilization, and even the government, with its argumentative upheavals, all move within Life's rhythm. We respond, usually unconsciously, to the rhythmic all around us, to patterns that are taken for granted.

This week, I invite you to a new awareness of the rhythmic order underlying human scrambling. Start with your own awareness of the rhythms of your life, and your own rhythmic patterns. Is it possible, that your rhythm is actually in tune with the Cosmos? Life is Large. There are patterns embedded in patterns. Follow the rhythm guiding you. Let it keep you safe and free. (Susan Nettleton)

For poetry: https://poets.org/poem/song-myself-50 https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45521/i-wandered-lonely-as-a-cloud https://allpoetry.com/poem/13846951-Finding-Your-Rhythm-by-Arlene-Corwin

Help

When I began this post last Friday, the temperature in L.A. County had soared to 90º, not the weather for struggle. Now, the heat has settled somewhat, simmering in the 80's, while this Sunday, the President's birthday, simmers with politically-charged protests (No Kings and supporting events) across the country, and the White House promotes a Martial Arts Competition. Quite an agenda for a Sunday. My intention is to re-route your attention to a spiritual perspective as the day, and the week ahead, unfold. The heat and the political competitions have had me seeking a spiritual shortcut until I remembered Larry Morris' practice of the simple prayer, "Help!"

Larry's spiritual cries for "Help" were usually very funny, but he also told stories of his desperation, when the only solution he could manage was a prayerful cry of "Help!' In one story, after a long day and late night of research, he left the University of New Mexico library, exiting the building through a side door with no nearby lighting. In the deep dark, he tripped and fell, painfully dislocating his ankle. He couldn't get up. In shock, he sat awhile on the concrete, despondent, not knowing what to do. All that came to him was the word "Help." "Help" became prayer. Unexpectedly, another nearby door opened in the dark and a man appeared. In the shadowy light, Larry recognized him as one of the Philosophy professors. The professor was able to help Larry stand, and, with his car nearby, drove them both to the emergency room. The professor stayed while the staff (more help) assessed and treated the injury, and then he drove Larry home. The accident sparked a 30 year friendship. In another story, Larry was embroiled in an impossible on and off relationship, full of youthful angst and drama. One evening, he walked to a nearby park, and lay in the summer grass. He was emotionally drained, still unable to take any action to change things. He looked up a the sky and exhaled the prayer, "Help." This time, he added from some depth within, "I'll do anything to get out of this." Then he dragged himself home. In a few weeks, the whole configuration had dissolved, and he entered a new phase of life.

These types of experiences pull us into the core of relatedness--not just some imagined spiritual realm, but a spiritual realm that includes the interweaving of lives, of creatures, of uncountable forms that are all expressions of this Life. The prayer for "Help" is a form of petitionary prayer. The heart of traditional religious prayer is our dependency on a Larger Field of Life, beyond our individual capacity to manage a situation. We frame that dependency in various ways, based on religious upbringing or other exposure to the collective idea of God, or a Higher Power, along with ideas of guiding Angels and/or Saints--something/someone, greater than our own capacity in the moment of need. New Thought, on the other hand, encourages affirmative prayer--a confident expression of our capacity to manifest the Good directly; it affirms ownership of our minds and hearts, as unique expressions and vital aspects of God. These two paths can blend into each other, in the greater Mystery of Life and Transcendence.

But maybe the value of the prayer of "Help" is it's simplicity and humility. Not a humility that strips us of dignity, but rather an acceptance that we reach our limits when we view our circumstances as singular. The "Help" prayer reconnects us to the human condition. We rely on other. We discover "other" is never truly other. Other is more like brother, like mother, like lover, sister, father, child--other is even self. Consider this week, the simple prayer for Help. (Susan Nettleton) for poetry: https://www.thebeatles.com/help-1 https://poetandpoem.com/Dame-Edith-Sitwell/Answers https://optimisticbeacon.com/2025/05/28/helping-a-poem-by-shel-silverstein/

Emptying

This weekend, my early June musings began with a quick weather check, dusted with a quote from the Los Angeles Times: "The L.A. region begins the year with the smoggiest first five months in a decade." I opened the blinds, and sure enough, it was a hazy day. The article continued with a discussion of asthma and a "wide range of respiratory illnesses, plaguing Southern California." Yet, in spite of the gloom, there were also reports of hope and recognition that pollution laws, state regulatory systems, and public monitoring, have actually reduced pollution, despite the 2026 stagnation. The morning read left me with a sense of balance and I reflected on the Buddhist insight, "Emptiness is form and form is emptiness." What is this leap, from one layer of life--the reckoning of human impact on our environment--to reckoning with Emptiness and the Fullness of Form?

June has brought me a delayed sense of "out with the old". I'm cleaning out my grandkids' school backpacks, stacks of the school year's homework, and bits of lunchbox debris. This has become a new June ritual for the end of school year, and the beginning of summer freedom. It has sparked my own need to release that which is no longer useful. It is a time of "Emptying". To put it simply, life requires us to built and establish, and yes, accumulate experience, knowledge, and relationships. Inevitably, we accumulate "Things". Sooner or later, circumstances shift, knowledge is revised, or lost and replaced; relationships are altered, or dissolved, or re-discovered. We change with the changing times, changing even our ways of resistance to change.

This week, the balance is shifting to Emptiness as release, a time to empty out things and ideas, you no longer need. It may seem that clearing out things--stuff--is a separate chore, sorting, choosing, releasing concrete forms, but of course "things" are inevitably connected to our ideas.

There is at least one idea, one belief, hooked to whatever object you collect or release. A time of release includes a time of giving up answers that no longer serve you well. Nature, and our individual intuitive spirit, balances change with stability, and stability with change. Even while we turn our focus to the most mundane project of clearing out and cleaning up, emptying the so called "trash" of our daily life, we are participating in the wholeness of Life's balance. Why not trust it, this June of 2026. As I finish, the sky outside, literally, has cleared. (Susan Nettleton)

for Poetry https://www.emptinessisfull.com/emptiness-is-full.html https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/K/KerouacJack/soundofsilen/index.html https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/M/MerwinWS/FindingaTeac/index.html

The Bitter

May is ending and June begins, soon to bring the summer solstice the Northern hemisphere, as well as more news on midterm primaries and election bids. Earlier this week I was rummaging around my book shelves, feeling the need to shift my own thinking with the shift into June. My eyes landed on a book, rather tattered with age: The Legend of the Baal-Shem by Martin Buber. I have not picked it up in years. Curious, I randomly flipped through it. The Baal-Shem (meaning Master of God's Name) was an 18th Century Rabbi in Eastern Europe, who founded and led the Hasidic movement. Hasidism is known for being a fervent, devotional and mystical branch of Judaism. There is always a bit of magic to stories of the Baal-Shem. What caught me, was simply the opening of a chapter that began with the death bed of the Master, surrounded by his closest disciples.

As he lay on the bed close to death, the Baal-Shem spoke quietly to each disciple in the room, advising them of their life without him, and the spirit in which they should live. It evoked memories of my experience of a silent "death watch", sitting with my friend and teacher, U.G. Krishnamurti. So I leaned into the powerful opening of the story. Later in the chapter, the story takes a different twist and turn, but what caught me was the opening, and the Master's message to this last disciple, the one who served and stayed near, Rabbi Simon. The Baal Shem announced that following the Baal-Shem's death, Rabbi Simon must travel constantly. He was charged with going to all the places where Jews dwelled, visiting their homes, telling the stories of his own experience living with the Master. He would have no home, and live by only what money and provisions the people placed in his hands. Rabbi Simon loved to talk about the Baal-Shem and loved repeating his words. But he could not grasp how he could live as an "eternal wanderer", without tangible means of support. He felt it was not possible. He stubbornly challenged his fate with "a drop of bitterness"that pierced the death scene, as he bitterly declared to the Master that these final instructions made no sense. His intolerable fate would make him a "wandering vagabond" and "the poorest pilgrim below".

I will stop the story here and tell you, in time, Rabbi Simon accepted his fate, and became a wanderer. Things did work out for him, as the master had reassured him in that final encounter. But what struck me, as I read, was the phrase "a drop of bitterness". Spiritually, we often talk of the power of love and forgiveness--itself a form of sweetness--when reconciling our emotional pain and disappointment. It's easy to just skip over recognition of human bitterness. Bitterness is not just anger or hurt feelings; it has the element of a sharp, unpleasant, even acred "taste". In this case, the "taste" is felt emotionally, as resentment, as festering dissatisfaction, or hardened hatred. Bitterness blocks forgiveness and our ability to reconcile.

We can try to bury resentment and cover it over with various spiritual practices, but it seems to me more adaptive and freeing to explore it within our own nature. There are those who say, "take the bitter with the sweet", in the unfolding discovery and maturation of our lives. What does your inner life tell you? Is it time to release the bitter? (Susan Nettleton)

For poetry: https://allpoetry.com/poem/8540251-Forgiveness-by-George-William-A.E.-Russell https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/D/DickinsonEmi/ImcededIve/index https://wordsfortheyear.com/2014/05/20/a-settlement-by-mary-oliver/poem/

Memorial Weekend 2026

Welcome to Memorial Day weekend--a turning toward summer, letting the seasonal shift preview summer--or rather--images of the iconic summer fantasy. We will see what actually unfolds weather-wise in the next 3 weeks, before June brings Summer Solstice 2026. Over the years of reflection on Memorial Day weekend, I have churned on the American contrast and blending of both mourning and cavorting--grief and play. Memorial Day, reserved for honoring those who have died while serving in America's military, was established after the Civil War, in 1886. It has had an evolving history, that includes becoming a national holiday in 1971 and then, in 2000, furthered by President Clinton's National Moment of Remembrance Act, designating 3:00 p.m., in your local time, as a moment to stop, be silent,, and remember in gratitude, as well as grief, those who died in American military service.

Remember, too, that we are currently at war, somewhat paused (depending on which news outlet or social media you follow), with diplomatic negotiations. Silent remembrance at 3:00 p.m. Monday for the past, united with people throughout the country that you do not know and will most likely never meet, all in recognition of the price of war and its sacrifice is a powerful, collective experience. Why not extend that to pausing throughout this week for the collective goal of Peace? No specific time period required. I guarantee you, many people across the planet, pray for peace daily.

Prayer and silence is the inward turning, but Memorial Weekend is also a celebration of life; an affirmation that Life can be Joyous. Life is unfathomable, really. Rich in it's Wonders. Honoring those who have given their lives, ultimately in the hope of extending Life, whatever their personal understanding or intent was, adds to the balance--our individual balance of understanding of life and death, and adds to a collective recognition that we are not separate from those we have never met, or those we have lost and miss.

So collectively, Americans travel, explore, bask in nature, pretend Summer has arrived. We swim, sail, wave flags, hold parades, share our barbecue and picnics and eat. We remember the fallen. We remember Life's ongoing renewal of the seasons. We pray for Peace. (Susan Nettleton)

for poetry: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47380/in-flanders-fields

https://www.secularfranciscansusa.org/wp-content/uploads/Peace-Prayer-of-Saint-Francis.pdf

https://americanliterature.com/author/kahlil-gibran/book/the-prophet/on-prayer

Ease

A few days ago, I woke up to the sound of dinging. Morning text dings have replaced ringing phone calls as the end of sleep. No need to set an alarm; these texts carried their own alarms--news flashes, nearby street closures, L.A.P..D. missing persons announcements, a group text with war updates, and another with disturbing election news. Prospects for the day seemed to sink. This annoyed me, so I declared to myself, "May is not Mayhem!" I decided despite the early disruption, I would have a day of Ease. It seemed only natural to extend that vow into this Sunday post, initiating the upcoming week as a spiritual discovery and practice of Ease.

This does not mean that the days are suddenly smooth sailing. After my self-declaration on what May is not, the days were double packed with responsibilities and urgent tasks, making it difficult to remember the path of Ease, but that is the usual course of a new practice. Start with small pieces of Ease, recognizing them, remembering Ease, approaching the increasingly difficult or resistant chore, more relaxed and more gently. Try completing simple tasks with the recognition that they are not barriers to the day, but belong to the day's meaning and ...joy. There is joy in each day, It takes practice to recognize it and, even if very briefly, savor it.

A few months ago, I took 2 grandchildren with me to buy office and school supplies at the local Staples store. The kids were spying around for some inexpensive toy or treat. One of them found a plastic disc in a markdown items basket--it was part of a past promotional slogan on how easy it was to shop for supplies. When you push down on the disc, it announces, in a slightly excited, but victorious voice, "That was Easy!" I loved it and so did she, so we bought it. For a few weeks, when faced with a household chore or a school homework project, she would gleefully run and get the disc, and when the job was done, the voice rang out, "That was Easy!" Sometimes she surprised me after-the-fact, sneaking in the disc, including times when I had complained! Now I see an expanded value to the ritual.

To build a sense of Ease, you start with the obvious easy moment, and then that expands to a beginning recognition that life is actually full of Ease, every day there are moments of Ease. But difficulties tend to cast shadows that obscure the underlying Ease of life, the do-able, the delightful. Like any cognitive/emotional process, the more we recognize those Easy moments, the more awareness expands our capacity for Ease. The more we dwell on difficulty, the more space it fills in our expectations of disappointment and more difficulty. Consider this week that simply recognizing the way of Ease, in whatever activity presents itself, can pave the way to an Easier Life. Try it; it's Easy. (Susan Nettleton)

for poetry: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/155965/ease

https://medium.com/know-thyself-heal-thyself/path-of-ease-1d2a3dd1d8b2

https://www.wisdom2be.com/gems-poetry-wisdomstories/when-the-shoe-fits-by-chuang-tzu

Signs and Wonders

Last Sunday, I pursued the subtle. It was good preparation for some wild days that erupted later in the week!. With the energy burst of May blooms, there is also the touch of the wild and a whirl-wind of activity as the culture revs up, before summer. Today is Mother's Day, a time of appreciation for those who "mother" us, and hopefully that appreciation includes a small window that allows "moms" a day of ease. Even with all our modern appliances, and our knowledge of the importance of balance in life, "moms" lead pressured lives. I use the word "mom" to acknowledge every year, those who assume the role--regardless of the genetics and lineage-- of mother.

In my world, the past week erupted in that whirl-wind push of May with scheduling shifts, local school events, last minute errands, and well...Life blooming. One evening, a rushed dinner prep, put all the busyness into spiritual perspective. Unloading some hastily bought groceries, I shoved things into the refrigerator. Then, I remembered I didn't clean the radishes. I keep them prepped in the fridge for easy last minute salads. With a tired sigh, I begrudgingly found a knife and a colander, and began to trim and wash. Then a thought popped into my mind:

"The man pulling radishes, pointed the way with a radish." (Issa)

I have not thought of Issa's poem for a long time, and I had to smile (and relax), that it so spontaneously floated into my awareness. Kobayashi Nobuyuki, (1763-1828) is a famed Japanese Haiku poet. In many ways, he had a tragic life, including the death of his mother, when he was only 3. Yet, his poetry lives on in the beauty of simplicity that offers layers and layers of meaning. The poem nudged me to finish my chore and then sit with it in meditation.

Sometimes, it is the very light touch of another's journey that brings us to Peace. May is full of signs and wonder, including the stray thought that leads us back to our own inner path. (Susan Nettleton)

"In the cherry blossom's shade, there's no such thing as a stranger." Issa

For poetry: https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/B/Buson/springrain/index.html https://www.poeticous.com/david-whyte/the-lightest-touch https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/I/IssaKobayash/springday/index.html https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/L/LeeLiYoung/BecomeBecomi/index.html

The Subtle

May brings the full blossoming of spring. I am looking out the window, through fruit trees and oaks, up to the mountain above them, and above that mountain, the white clouds and blue sky. Yes, the full blossoming of spring. And we, the people of the Northern hemisphere, on some subtle level are in bloom as well. Even as conflict rages, and absurd events flaunt the news and social media, we humans are in the season for beauty to bloom through art, through discovery, through compassion and a heightened awareness of the natural world. Outwardly, Nature is vividly bursting free; inwardly, consider the possibility that subtle layers of awareness, long blocked by thought and the mind's incessant chatter, can also open and bloom. If, as Larry Morris said, "May is for manifestation," then we have the opportunity for clearer reception of inner spiritual direction, revelation, and demonstration.

May is a good time to revamp our meditation practice. Just like Nature with its seemingly infinite variety of life forms, there are abundant forms of meditation. I personally have woven through times of meditation in prayer form, or sat in simple silence, or entered into imagery, or sat with with mantra repetition, or let the mind lead through a mix, with stillness, or movement. But the last few days, I felt the pull to return to a mantra that was gifted to me almost 20 years ago. I felt the pull to focus my full attention in gentle repetition, not really expecting anything new. It just seemed like the thing to do that morning. I had always assumed mantra meditation was to calm the "monkey" mind, as thoughts fly around, jumping from one idea, memory, or concern to another, while the mind, occupied with a mantra, brought quiet awareness. During this meditation though, I watched my own mental processes pulling toward MY mental "agenda" in meditation: I had turned from my thoughts to give way to the mantra. But then it hit me; the mantra was only another mental activity. It just occupied the mind, while the "inner directive" the deeper connection, the movement of the Transcendent, came forth in the tiniest subtle direction, circumventing the mantra, the thinking, the pauses of silence--all of "meditation practice". What was most significant was Its subtlety. I realized how delicate this inner "communion/communication" is. So delicate and subtle, we very rarely become aware of It. Yet, something on an unconscious, or subconscious level, receives it anyway.

There is teaching story (often attributed to Buddha) that in various versions compares the practice of meditation to tuning an string instrument--a sitar, lyre, or in the West, a guitar: "Not too loose, not too tight." When the strings of an instrument are too tight, they break; if they are too loose, they produce no sound. This speaks to a balance point in our own practice of meditation. If you try to force your thoughts-- your worries, your fears, your pain-- into your sense of peaceful submission, your strings are too tight. If you just let your thoughts wander, and your attention wanders with them, you really aren't meditating. It's too loose, we loose subtle awareness. We all go through either process at times, and it's useful to recognize that. One way to restore balance is to remember the simple truth expressed by the Sufi poet Rumi, "What you seek, seeks you." Your mantra, or other meditation practice, is still the churning mind, with the volume turned down. Light can break through in unexpected flashes of wonder and insight, while you sit, or in extraordinary experiences that come while you are out and about in the world. But those are rare events. Consider this week, meditation as your acceptance of this subtle, subtle, movement, a daily opening of an inner door. Meditation is subtlety turning you to receive what is always freely given. (Susan Nettleton)

Why May come if not to release us to warm joy harmony and awaken us from lingering winter slumbers into God's Way for us Now.

(Larry Morris, Poems Hanging in Space)

For more poetry: https://www.poemi st.com/denise-levertov/aware#google_vignette https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43333/the-waking-56d2220f25315 https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/B/BerryWendell/RealWork/index.html