'twas...

'twas the day before christmas and all through the shala -  not a creature was stirring, not even a koala

the straps were all hung on the hooks with great care -  in hopes that the guru would offer a prayer 

the yogis were snestled so sweet on their mats, while ganesha and krishna danced 'round their hats

shakti-ma in her sari, shivam in his dreads - settling their chakras, readying their beds

when out in the valley there rose such a clatter, they jumped out of savasan to see what was the matter

the chandra reflected on new fallen snow -  gave a shimmer, a dazzle to the objects below

when whoa! what the farnbang? to their eyes did appear - a wee golden chariot and 6 tiny reindeer

with a powerful driver so bold and so bright - it's hanuman! the monkey! so brave and so light

more rapid than garudā, his coursers they came - he whistled and shouted and called them by name

now ustrā, now bakā, adho mukha svānāsan - on vīrabhadrā, gomukhā and matsyendrāsan

to the top of tadāsana, to the top of the wall - now dash away, dash away, dash away all ~

he was dressed all in fur from his head to his tail - he twinkled, he chuckled, he jumped without fail

he spoke not a word and went straight to his stocks - stacking the blankets and stashing the blocks

then folding his palms right up to his heart - he gave a quick nod, and rose with a start

he sprang to his sleigh, gave his sangha a whistle - away they all flew, like a NASA space missile

we then heard him chanting as he drove away - om gaté gaté ~ om namaste!

SOLSTICE BLESSINGS BRILLIANT AND BRIGHT

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL  ~ AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT !

 

patience

 

patience is the art of concealing your impatience.

                 ~  guy kawasaki

there are three things that cause me great consternation..

as far as my patience is concerned..

or rather my lack of patience 

or my failure at concealing impatience..

vacumn cleaner cords..

or cords of any kind, actually..

garden hoses,

and hangers.. all and every kind of hanger..

these all seem to get caught up within themselves

or other ends of themselves or others of like mind and shape..

i am shown in no uncertain terms the ignobility of my impatience..

my language becomes garbled, my face contorts into a mass of wrinkles, 

my voice raises 3 octaves, and my entire mellow nature melts into aaarrrrgh..

that is to say, it used to..

i have trained my shabby impatience to rise up! to rise up to higher ground..

now, when i encounter the encounters

of cords, hoses, and hangers..

i speak in honeyed tones and storytime intimacy...

as such :

ah! dearest hanger of the clan of hangers-on..

where are you running off to..

with your brothers and sisters in tow?

please come back to the fold..

please join in the queue..

or

of course, dear vacumn cord of wandering caught up ways..

let's get your legless thread out from under the chair, desk, bedstead

and find the clear path to cleanliness..

or

gardening hose of gathering water..

why tie yourself in knots over the flow of the universe?

let me unkink your body and mind so you are able

to pour forth freely

your wisdom and fresh wet essence..

these wee fairytales change my tight-talking mind 

into a humorous fable of spacious cascading lucidity..

and.. my dialogue is..ha! ha! so amusing to my very own self, 

that i end in laughter..

now though, there is another impatience..

the impatience of wanting things to be other than they are..

really?

why would i want that?

well......

because...

i would o so like to travel the highways and byways..

the airways and seawaves

my nomadic propensity is up in arms..

akimbo and askew..

even from the simplest,

the most realistic point of view,

the countries which we long for

occupy a far larger place 

in our actual life

than the country

in which we happen to be...

              marcel proust / swain's way

quite honestly, there is no where else to go..

this very land is the lotus land of purity..

this very body is the body of the buddha..

a whiplash of awakening and i see my faulty view..

until my longing (impatience) sets in yet again 

and i imagine a scene from the himalayas..

the coastline of crete,

the soup and ice cream of istanbul,

the monastery in upstate new york..

it's all in the mind

imagining is like feeling around

in a dark lane, or washing

your eyes with blood. 

you are the truth

from foot to brow. now, 

what else would you like to know?

                  ~ rumi

where else would you rather be?

okay already..

here now 

just this

as it is.. 

is now..

as it was in the beginning

now and ever shall be ~

the snare of gratitude

 

there have been o so many people in my life 

who have been kind, generous, 

willing to come to my aid on my way to ..

wherever..

here, now..

'tis a practice of mr. rogers, isn't it..

to take ....  what? 5 minutes 

to recall a face, an action

holding them with your inner vision..

your heart/mind ~

to recollect the kindness that slid you 

to the next move on your chessboard of life.

after watching the queen's gambit..

(i think i qualify as a binger of the series..)

i was touched by the many who uplifted 

the young protaganist along her way..

magnanimously.. 

(from the latin.. magnus animus - great soul)

afterwards, i sat for a time reminiscing

the faces, the places, the benevolence

showered upon me throughout my life..

what a worthy practice !

most thanksgivings i share this poem by rumi..

and here we go again:

giving thanks for abundance 

is sweeter than the abundance itself:

thankfulness is the soul of beneficence,

abundance is but the husk,

for thankfulness brings you

to the place where the Beloved lives.

abundance yields heedlessness;

thankfulness, alertness:

hunt for bounty with the snare of gratitude...

                               thankfulness, alertness

                                     translated by kabir helminski

                                         edited a wee bit by djl

sitting quietly with the countless souls

who have traversed this splendid life

with me, 

who guided me, 

led the way, 

paved my streets with gold, 

held me back, 

pushed me onward..

~ nothing to do 

but bow my head 

~ tasting the saltysweet 

honeyed tears 

of thankfulness..

 

....should one who is absorbed with the 

Generous One

be distracted by the gift?

it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

timely rain

 

from chögyam trungpa ~

in the jungles of flaming ego,

may there be a cool iceberg of bodhicitta.

on the racetrack of bureaucracy,

may there be the walk of the elephant.

may the sumptuous castle of arrogance

be destroyed by vajra confidence.

in the garden of gentle sanity,

may you be bombarded by coconuts of wakefulness.

it's very wet..squally..sopping..

the hummingbirds are gathering in droves 

for the sweet ambrosia i concoct..

one such bird is holding hostage

a feeder all to him/herself..

the others are joined two by twos 

to  snuggle up and share the nectar ..

as many as a dozen to a feeder..

community..not two..generosity..

as i stir each batch of sugar water

i chant the heart sutra mantra..

or the gayatri or om mani padme hum..

it seems i have a non-bodhisattva in the tribe !

it is said that generosity is the gateway to the bodhisattva path..

(no wonder the second phrase above the gateway to the

temple at delphi was: nothing in excess)

the giving practice is the practice of letting go..

letting go of narrow views, of concepts of small, tight and lack..

letting go of ownership, close-fistedness, insufficiency  ~

i must stir up my next quantity of nektar with "enough" mindfulness..

(recalling a bumper sticker - if you had enough would you recognize it)

a friend shared that she had offered some money to a  homeless fellow 

outside a coffee shoppe..and he said.. o, no thank you, i really have enough..

as i cultivate generosity in my own nature, all else follows generously..

i experience this as so!

next time i will whisk in the circle of offering ~ ampleness and plenty ~

then the dear renegade hummer will feel contentment..

igniting the wake-up mind of his/her own wide wingspan to gifting..

nurturing billions of brother and sister hummingbirds

with the syrup of bounteousness!

HA! MAY IT BE JUST SO!

 

from *81 - daode jing 

......  the sage avoids accumulation--

the more (s)he works for others, the more (s)he has;

the more (s)he gives to others, the more (s)he gains.

the way of the heavens is to benefit, not to injure.

the way of the sages is to act, not to compete.

                      ~ translated by louis komjathy

not two..

 

JFK's planned speech for austin, texas  ~ 

evening of november 22  ~ 1969

... this country is moving and it must not stop. it cannot stop. 

this is a time for courage and a time for challenge.

neither conformity nor complacency will do.

neither the fanatics nor the faint-hearted are needed. 

our duty as a party is not to our party alone, 

but to the nation, and, indeed, to all humankind.

our duty is not merely the preservation of political power 

but the preservation of peace and freedom.

so let us not be petty when our cause is so great.

let us not quarrel amongst ourselves when our nation's

future is at stake.  let us stand together with renewed 

confidence in our cause....

determined that this land we love shall lead all humankind 

into new frontiers of peace and abundance.

PLEASE VOTE!

david spangler

if we fear each other, it may be because in some way, 

we fear ourselves. let's change that.

let's trust our goodness

and help others do the same.

there is no reason the winner of our election 

in this country has to be fear and anger.

we can decide otherwise.

whoever holds the office of presidency

the offices of senator or representative,

we hold the country.

we hold the country in our hearts, in our choices,

in our actions, and in our behavior towards one another.

in the days and months ahead, 

let's ensure that the winner is the best in us.

PLEASE VOTE!

you (bodhisattva) and wisdom (prajña)

are essentially the same,

like pearls rolling on a tray,

light, random, uninhibited .

                        ~ hakuin zenji

in this not two nothing is separate,

nothing is excluded.

                   ~ hsin shin ming

i confess..there was a time when i didn't vote..

it was after nixon won a second round...

by a landslide..1972...

george mcgovern, my vote..

gone, gone, gone....

it was years before i got my head and heart on straight ..

the vote, our vote, my vote..is one of the most effective

ways to wrestle with the snake of politics..

if i seem to take part in politics, 

it is only because politics encircles us today

like the coil of a snake from which one cannot get out,

no matter how much one tries.

i wish therefore to wrestle with the snake..

                 ~ mahatma gandhi

noble friendship

 

noble friendship is the whole of holy life

i was given a card i had sent to my dear 

and o so loving friend, nancy jean..

some 8 plus years ago..

it was a picture of a ginger cat, a kitten, really..

and a dog, maybe a jack russell..

dressed in black leather biking jackets

chains and all..

earnestly looking at the photographer ~

(probably wondering, 

what the farnbag are we doing here

and why are we dressed like this?)

on the inside, it read :

you and i are more than friends.

we're like a really small gang.

nancy jean stark died on september 23rd..

on her daughter's birthday and 

on pablo neruda's death day..

well chosen..

when a death arrives on such sacramental days

it is considered quite auspicious and a blessing..

the death day is thereafter noted as an anniversary ~

my mother, who was the hostess with the mostess

at her home, the nantucket inn, in anacortes,

was the first to meet nancy and her family..

they chose to stay at the inn

while looking the towne over 

to buy a home and settle down..

as i was gallivanting about between india 

and los angeles..sallie was cultivating

a sweet and long-lasting friendship

with nancy et al..

she would make mention of this darling family

often with many a remark..

... you will really enjoy meeting nancy..

and she was most certainly right..

after i arrived home 

to open my first yoga studio above 

what is now  cafe adrift..

we immediately started hanging 

and brainstorming and walking 

and conjuring ~

we created the gypsy basket_

a trunk show of sorts, held monthly 

at the nantucket..scarves and papers, 

holy molies, cards and objets d'art..

i recall we even had a fashion show!

when i turned 33 i decided to walk 33 miles

and then get on a plane for india..

baaaad idea!

nancy drove along the hi way with her kids in tow,

supporting a dozen or so  yoga practitioners 

as we walked to a dear olde friend's house 

on mccorquedale road..where we drank beer 

then turned around and headed back home..

baaaad idea!

after that, nancy and i became hoofers

all over fidalgo island ..

we might be gone an entire day ~

over the river and through the woods..

she shared with me the stations of the cross,

being a good catholic girl, 

which we summoned in the forest lands

around cap sante and washington park

on numerous easter sundays..

we made it through 4 husbands together ..

two each..with one more before we met..

a half a dozen marriages..between us..

(although i like to say, 

never married but divorced 3 times..)

i was cured after 3 

 ~ it is a charm, you know ~

yet i do believe nancy would have jumped 

into the wedding ring yet again..

such was her faith in true love ..

as i wrote in the opening of her book

letters to my children ~

...we have walked through marriages and divorces, 

a few firey affairs and been left in the ashes 

only the great birds fly out of...

how many friday night movie nights

have we sat through..and bowls of popcorn?

thank you, jovan!

how many poems have we read together

sprawled out on her bed while resting?

how many crossword puzzles

have we barely completed ?

~ to stretch our minds and keep us nimble!

how many double batches of biskutina have we made 

the week before thanksgiving..?

taking up 2 days of gathering and baking..

giving all mine away and coming to her house to eat some...

no wonder her kids always hid the cookie jar from me!

our really small gang theme song was:

ne me quitte pas - by the great jacques brel

translated as ~

don't quit me

we didn't, we haven't, we won't..

we have a sister code that

we will use to recognize one another

in our next lives,

or at the right hand of god, 

or wherever we may land 

through the veil

on the other side

in the great empty...

twinkle twinkle 

little star 

how i wonder....

not associating with fools,

associating with the wise,

honoring those worthy of honor;

this is the greatest blessing.

~ mangala sutta 

be aware of these four good-hearted friends: 

the helper, the friend who endures in good times and bad, 

the mentor, and the compassionate friend.

the helper can be identified by four things: 

by protecting you when you are vulnerable, 

and likewise your wealth, 

being a refuge when you are afraid, 

and in various tasks providing double what is requested.

the enduring friend can be identified by four things: 

by telling you secrets, guarding your own secrets closely, 

not abandoning you in misfortune, and even dying for you.

the mentor can be identified by four things: 

by restraining you from wrongdoing, 

guiding you towards good actions, 

telling you what you ought to know, 

and showing you the path to lasting happiness.

the compassionate friend can be identified by four things: 

by not rejoicing in your misfortune, 

delighting in your good fortune, 

preventing others from speaking ill of you,

and encouraging others who praise your good qualities.

                                           ~ that is what the buddha said....

up above the world so high,

like a diamond in the sky,

twinkle twinkle, little star,

how i wonder what you are....

you, dear peace is healthy reader..

I wonder how you are going to feel

when you find out

that I wrote this instead of you.

that it was I who got up early

to sit in the kitchen

and mention with a pen

the rain-soaked windows,

the ivy wallpaper,

and the goldfish circling in its bowl.

Go ahead and turn aside,

bite your lip and tear out the page,

but, listen -- it was just a matter of time

before one of us happened

to notice the unlit candles

and the clock humming on the wall.

Plus, nothing happened that morning--

a song on the radio,

a car whistling along the road outside-

and I was only thinking

about the shakers of salt and pepper

that were standing side by side on a place mat.

I wondered if they had become friends

after all these years

or if they were still strangers to one another

like you and I

who manage to be known and unknown

to each other at the same time --

me at this table with a bowl of pears,

you leaning in a doorway somewhere

near some blue hydrangeas, reading this.

                    you, dear reader  ~  billy collins

 

o thank you, thank you, dear readers..

i am grateful to whoever you are..

who read the words i float thru aire ..

known and unknown one anothers

who may take the time to peruse

some scrawls i find pertinent or wistful..

a few notes to note to you, reader.. dear reader..

if you would like to send word to me after a read thru

of blog slog..  critiques /delights, etc. 

it must be done by sending me a separate email 

peaceishealthy@gmail.com

who knows ? why one is unable to zip off

a note of thises and thats..right then and there..?

also, if you are receiving the peaceishealthy blogspot

chances are you have subscribed to it..

as i do not send it out personally to 

each and everyone of you..

if you find it is a drag to receive it, 

please feel free (and easy) to unsubscribe 

by scrolling down 

to the bottom of the full page of posts

and click the unsubscribe link..

the sweet thing about this is,

i will never know if you have deleted me

or kept me in your mailbox..

this is a good thing..

my feeling ( for i have only one..) will not be hurt

nor will you feel guilty for tossing me overboard..

a very win-win situation..

i am always charmed up to my eye bulbs

when i hear from you..

and so often quite surprised to find out 

who actually reads the missives..

whether they be hits or misses..

may i extend my heartfelt gratitude 

that we have somehow come in contact

with one another ~ whatever the proximity  ~

shape-shifting thru time and space 

to share a place of momentary simpatico-ness! 

First, I would have her be beautiful,

and walking carefully up on my poetry

at the loneliest moment of an afternoon,

her hair still damp at the neck

from washing it. She should be wearing

a raincoat, an old one, dirty

from not having money enough for the cleaners.

She will take out her glasses, and there

in the bookstore, she will thumb

over my poems, then put the book back

up on its shelf. She will say to herself,

“For that kind of money, I can get

my raincoat cleaned.” And she will.

                        selecting a reader ~ ted kooser

love and friendships and travel and staying put!

it matters not where or how far you travel -
the further commonly the worse -
but how much alive you are.
                          ~ henry david thoreau

much of my life has been a traveling life -
driving up and down the coastline from
the san juan islands of washington
to the city of angels - california..
through or to monterey..
further, across the great waters to mother india
many times to bombay, delhi, chennai, dharmsala ..
further, spending months aplenty in the greek islands,
off to afghanistan, turkey, yugoslavia (when indeed it was)
italy, through and through -
europe traipsing all around spain, france..oui!
further, an abundance of england, ireland and amsterdam..
the eastern euro places..poland, the czech republic et al
there was egypt and syria..
tahiti!
o and south america by bus and truck..
costa rica, panamá, equador, columbia, peru
and further on and on south and south some more..

i have missed much of africa,
never made it to japan, russia,
mongolia or tibet ..
nor the scandawhovians..

this past may i was almost on a plane
to sweden for my 70th birthday..
of course, the blight..the pandemic..
put a stop to that..
further conjured a sojourn to ireland
with a friend in september ..
we'd be there by now..
but no, no..
not happening..
well then, how about a wee road trip
down to ashland for a get-away?
no way ~

further no more
i find myself
being still
staying put
nada
none
no peregrinating....

walking in the woods and forests galore..
early morning meditative strolls along the bay..
one foot in front of the other
hikes up and down the heights of hither and yon
pedaling across the trestle
 all nearby
much alive

for the moveable feast that i have been,
it is a shape shift
molecules remaining stationary
mind, too, resting
a wee bit shushed from bustle and hustle
no where to go
simply in ~
slow going
no going

the deeper you listen,
the more you will hear 
only one thing.
you will hear love 
everywhere.
              ~ gene key 13  / discernment

discernment
patience
ah! those elusive virtues
i have been chasing
all my lifelong.. ha!
perhaps,
with some stillness..
and much unmoving
patience
might bestow upon
my quiet countenance,
deep listening
love

i hear it!
the murmurations
of oodles of starlings
jammin' in the nearby trees
sound and flight
light and shadow

thwap, thwap raven wings
cawing and craaacking
sharing their revelations -
in threes..
caw, caw, caw...
have you noticed?

highway traffic, trains, the sound of freedom
tapping and grinding and building projects
always the buzzz and hummm of hummingbirds
wasps, too, that stick themselves to the feeders
loco with sugar and thick nectar of sweet
robins trilling their musical scales with flickers
practicing duets of suets..
the smoke..
do you hear it?


writing letters these daze
notes, cards, love missives..
offerings, poems, quotes
bits of trivia, enclosures..
connecting the dots
of past to present..
i have no social media accounts
with the exception of this blog..
is this social media?
my method of friending
is ink, paper, stamps..
petals, feathers ~
dribs and drabs
to carry on love relations ..
traveling epistles
dispatches of endearments


when you are enlightened, 
there is one relationship  
that you no longer have: 
the relationship with yourself.
once you have given that up, 
all your other relationships 
will be love relationships.
                            ~ eckhart tolle   

'tis a long road ahead, for me,
to the enlightenment portal -
i confess to a gluey, tacky,
gummy relationship with my self of selves..
yet i do spy the horizon..that vast expanse..
and if there is a voyage worthy of embarquation,
it is the way to the way which is the way ~

the best way to know god is to love many things
                    ~ vincent van gogh




      

blackberries

august 
when the blackberries hang
swollen in the woods, in the brambles
nobody owns, i spend

all day among the high
branches, reaching
my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming
the black honey of summer
into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is.  in the dark
creeks that run by there is 
this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is 
this happy tongue.
               ~ mary oliver

my mother,
sarah jeannette wilson lingwood,
sallie, to those who truly knew her..
and most everyone did -
was born august 18th, 1916 ~
if she were alive today,
she'd be 104..

she adored blackberries..
picking blackberries,
eating blackberries..
eating more blackberries..

august ~ the month that brings
that dark bounty to our lips,
the dog days nectar we prize so high..

just such a one o so warm, lush summer day..
in august, of course,
sallie was out along the hedge
that trailed our yard -
meditating on the benefits
of her berry-picking..
the highlight of having nothing better to do..
and surely, what would be better than plucking blackberries
off the cranky, brambly, scritchity bushes..?
her straw hat covering her alabaster skin from the sun..
~ never touched by the rays of Ra..
when she took a tumble..a slip and jumble..
her precious bucket of gems cascading hither and yon
and her olde bones jouncing  and bouncing to the ground..
she must have been 90 or thereabouts..

i was not in the neighborhood,
the neighbors were not in the neighborhood..
she was no longer limber and nimble
at getting herself up and at it again..
her hat askew but on her head..
berries near enough to nibble..
"i'll rest a spell till i've had my fill
then muster my strength for uprightness"

if one does not master one's circumstances,
one is bound to be mastered by them..
                        ~ the gentleman in moscow

which was at least an hour or so before i arrived ~
popping out of the car, heading to the house
i hear this cheerfully meek and meager call..
honey!

did someone just say honey?
dianna dear..!
~ for she always and only ever called me dianna ~
where was her voice coming from?
i looked behind me..
to the front porch..
around the corner of the house..
finally tracing the call
to the ditch by the patch..
and there -
so merry and berry filled -
was my mother.

o holy mackeral (andy)!

we scrambled about the brambles
dancing a tango among the tangles
weaving a wound-up upraise until she was on her feet..
and although she was hot..
and although she was blue and black
and bruised and scratched and scraped
and although she asked for water..
she went right back to picking
that beloved juicy fruit of august..

happy birthday, mama!

allow yourself to trust joy and embrace it.
you will find you dance with everything.
                        ~ ralph waldo e.

rockstar and rosie

i ask percy how i should live my life (ten)
                               ~ mary oliver
love, love, love, says percy.
and run as fast as you can
along a shining beach, or the rubble, or the dust.

then, go to sleep.
give up your body heat, your beating heart.
then, trust.


rockstar, it seemed, loved me from the get-go..
rosie did not...


rockstar  (& coco)

a cairn terrier of aristocratic lineage
sired from the kingdom of tharbar!
rocky was a blue ribbon show dog
and shared his birthday with the 14th dalai lama -
he frequently wore a talisman of his holiness on his collar!
i would not be surprised in the least
if he comes back as a beloved holy rinpoche..
a dilgo khyentse, dudjom rinpoche, kalu rinpoche

once i had the great good fortune
to hang with rockstar for a few days..
as might be expected he attended yoga practice
up those 55 or so stairs to a wing and a prayer
where he rested royally as the king of our ballroom yoga
the down dog specialist ~
rocky's savasana was impeccable..

rockstar was 15 years plus when he crossed the rainbow bridge
he is survived by his adopted sister, 10 year olde coco..
also a cairn terrier, who was rescued from a texas
puppy mill by colonel potters cairn rescue..
casey and susan schanen of laconner..


rosie 

smooth coated collie
bouvier
american pit bull
aussie shepard and more
all-american dog!

she was found in a gas station by joAnn
collar almost ingrown - 2 bullets in her..
my best guess is that rosie will return
in her next life as a highly venerated
activist of non-violence and human rights..
a john lewis, martin luther king, rosa parks

i had much more time with rosebud, rozal-berry, rosie -
who would often come into my wee hut
only after i had finished my one bowl lunch bowl
to dishwasher it as clean as a whistle..


* the bowl
         ~ jane hirshfield

if meat is put into the bowl, meat is eaten.

if rice is put into the bowl, it may be cooked.

if a shoe is put into a bowl,
the leather is chewed and chewed over, 
a sentence that cannot be taken in or forgotten.

a day, if a day could feel, must feel like a bowl.
wars, loves, trucks, betrayals, kindness, 
it eats them.

then the next day comes, spotless and hungry.

the bowl cannot be thrown away.
it cannot be broken.

it is calm, uneclipsable, rindless,
and, big though it seems, fits exactly in two hands.

hands with ten fingers, 
fifty four bones,
capacities strange to us almost past measure.
scented -- as the curve of the bowl is --
with cardamom, star anise, long pepper, cinnamon, hyssop.

* i read this poem to rosie out on the north forty
while jen and i were having tea..
rosie looked long and hard at me for a wee while, 
then cocked her head and looked over to jen..
and as jen says, with a look like..
what the farnbang?

i was on the mat one morning for practice
when she nuzzled at my door for treats..
i opened up, she wandered in,
went directly to my mat, sat down and
produced a wuffle-full of formidable interior gas
while looking directly at me..
then promptly went back to the door to be out, out, out!

rocky and rosie, these two national treasures ( & coco )
adored my ziwi peake treats from new zealand..
gluten free!
long, long, long ago, a pet store owner suggested
that i offer this to all and any of the four-leggeds i met ~
in order to seduce from them a handful of fur, a paw or a lick..
i carry a jarful everywhere i go..

these treats were my wooing cooing
awww, c'mon rosie, love me doo-ing
prasad  (sanskrit - clearness, kindness, grace)
and i have to say..
i do think she grew to love me..
for now and then i was licked and kissed
(when john was nowhere in sight..)
her head on my knee.. only now and then..
we did have many thoughtful, philosophical evening strolls,
dark early morning flashlight treks
and silly romps across the homestead yard..

rosie was 14 years plus when she dipped her paws in the river styx
leaving behind her two apple cats - pippin and fuji -
john and joAnn webster of mount vernon,

dear auntie kathleen
and me....


a dog on this master
         ~ billie collins

as young as i look, 
i am growing older faster than he, 
seven to one
is the ratio they tend to say.

whatever the number,
i will pass him one day
and take the lead
the way i do on our walks in the woods.

and if this ever manages
to cross his mind,
it would be the sweetest
shadow i have ever cast on snow or grass.


what a favored breed we are, we humanoids,
to come in proximity to these four-leggeds..
who share with us their integrity, humility, selflessness ~
where we are enriched and entwined
in genuine gladsome fellowship,
our hearts broken wide open with their wisdom
and their unconditional love sweet love..


little soul little stray
little drifter
now where will you stay
all pale and all alone
after the way 
you used to make fun of things
                ~ emperor hadrian
             translated from latin by
                   w. s. merwin

a handful of dreamdust

it's 3 am.
the stars are out..i am out..
gandering at the night sky
to scan an answer from the empyrean
the coyotes
have been frolicking
and yelping since midnight..
new moon
juneteenth..
solstice..
no wonder sleep gives me the slip..
and now.. just now..
the roosters have started their early morning
crooning and cock-a-dooning ..

what is that
poem
by langston hughes?

gather out of star dust
earth dust
cloud dust 
storm dust
and splinters of hail
one handful of dream dust
not for sale

and i wonder..full of wonder..
not so much that i don't love enough..
yet wonder... full of wonder..
if i speak it out enough..
telling all i love..
and maybe even some i don't
that yes, indeed, i do love you
enough to tell you..
to tell the all and every
of my tally of loved ones..
i love you..
so maybe it's not that we don't love enough..
it's that we must declare it..
in any way
in a myriad of ways
in allways
in everyway ~

everything that breathes is hungry
                         ~ gary snyder

what is it we are hungry for..?
what whets this swelling appetite ..?
it must be love, you think?

hafiz says ~
with that moon language

admit something:
everyone you see, you say to them, "love me."

of course, you do not say this out loud -

still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect.

why not become the one who lives with a
full moon in each eye that is
always saying,

with that sweet moon language,
what every other eye in
this world is
dying to 
hear?

the candles have burned low,
the night sky has shapeshifted
to dawn this laudable day..
the aire is full of chirpings..
robin, rooster, frogs a' freeping..
hummingbirds queue up on the clothesline
and await their turn to slurp the syrup
from their red round diners..
swallows sweep the blue yonder
to feed the yawning mouths of young..
stardust fades to dreamdust ~
these are the days and this is time
to speak out from the arrow in our hearts
let's not waste another moment..
now is the time - this is the place


how do i love thee? let me count the ways.
i love thee to the depth and breadth and height
my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
for the ends of being and ideal grace.
i love thee to the level of every day’s
most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
i love thee freely, as all strive for right;
i love thee purely, as all turn from praise.
i love thee with the passion put to use
in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
i love thee with a love i seemed to lose
with my lost saints. i love thee with the breath,
smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if god choose,
i shall but love thee better after death.
                            sonnet 43 
                            elizabeth barret browing



           

talismans ~

the everyday practice is simply to develop
complete acceptance and openness to all
situations and emotions, and to all people,
experiencing totally without mental
reservations and blockages,
so that one never withdraws or centralizes
into oneself.
                          ~ dilgo khyentse rinpoche


i will give you a talisman.
whenever you are in doubt or when the self 
becomes too much with you, try the following expedient:
recall the face of the poorest and the most helpless being
whom you may have seen and ask yourself if the step
you contemplate is going to be of use to them.
will they be able to gain anything by it?
will it restore them to a control over their own life and destiny?
in other words, will it lead to .. self-rule
for the hungry and also the spiritually starved millions of the world?
when you do, you will find .... your self melting away.
                                                    ~ gandhi-ji

talisman - tongen practice..

tonglen is tibetan for sending and receiving..
it is a path and a practice that conjures up our willingness
to take on the pain of others and offer whatever may
ease, console and soothe their sorrow, heartbreak and misery.
it is the practice of the wide embrace..
a bigger container to hold the human condition..
tonglen unconditionally exposes our interconnectedness..
tonglen dissolves the barriers of the heart...
the talisman of tonglen frees us from the cage of the self...
when we are free, and open and spacious..
the world is free and open and spacious..


you are the world and the world is you.
                    ~   j. krishnamurti


three treasures  (talismans)

everybody says my way is great
but improbable.

all greatness
is improbable.
what's probable
is tedious and petty.

i have three treasures.
i keep and treasure them.
the first, mercy,
the second, moderation,
the third, modesty.
if you're merciful you can be brave,
if you're moderate you can be generous,
and if you don't presume to lead
you can lead the high and mighty.

but to be brave without compassion,
or generous without self-restraint,
or to take the lead,
is fatal.

compassion wins the battle
and holds the fort;
it is the bulwark set
around those that heaven helps.
                        ~ tao te ching
                           ursula k. le guin


like the earth, water, wind, and fire,
medicinal herbs, and the trees of the wilderness,
may i always be made use of freely
by all beings just as they wish.

may i be beloved of beings and may they
be more beloved to me than myself.
may i bear the results of their negativity,
and may they have the results of all my virtue.

as long as there is even some single
sentient being somewhere who is not yet free,
may i remain (in the world) for that being's sake,
even if i have attained unexcelled awakening.
                           ~ the precious garland
                              twenty verse prayer
                              nāgārjuna


         

peony wisdom

for my 70th birthday,
i was given the most exquisite peony
of such alluring color it made me blush
and weak in the knees..

it was fresh ~
plump and youthful ~
like the skin i may have had
when i was 17..

the depth of colour aroused
some heady seduction
down fathoms to blood and marrow..

opened and closed all at once 
in presence and aloof..
afar
if one was in the room
with this bloom
there is no way
you could look thither..

come hither..
dip into
the quintessence
the inner sanctum
the elixir of pollination
the antennae of looksee
a half a dozen nipples of venus
amidst a lion's mane of pleasure
miraculous mastery
marvel of minutiae
mysterious modus operandi
holy mo!

and fragrance -
subdued
coy, even
demurely inviting
the sense of smell
to come a little bit closer
you're my kind of gal
earthy and vague

it is now 5 days since my birthday
a pale ivoryness wafts about
still enticing
perfectly wide open
full and empty all at once
expansive and ceasing
the fragility of each petal
soon to fall like blessings
~ elderlore mist ~

ah ~ i see
this is me..

o sage of the peony lineage
i bow with palms folded -
as i myself fold
into senescence beauty
the ancientness to come
and go and go and go..

pollyanna

cindy laurance
a california pollyanna!

pollyanna ~
written in 1913 by the
novelist eleanor h. porter

often one is given such a moniker because they
seem to have an unfailing optimistic outlook..
excessively cheerful..
however, the story goes that pollyanna and her father
played the glad game as a method of coping
with the difficulties and sorrows
(along with good fortune and joy)
that shape one's everyday life..

the first one who whistled
thought they had a wren in their mouth.
they went around all day
with their lips puckered,
afraid to swallow.
               ~ wendell berry
                  * edited dl

the pacific wren (troglodytes pacificus)
is the true authentic without a shred
of even a nano tinge of a doubt,
pollyanna in winged form!

montaigne's maxim:
the surest sign of wisdom is cheerfulness!

most certainly this wee wren is wise..
for they sing and cheep and share their unfettered joy
for no reason at all..or so it seems..
yet their exquiste wren chirrupings bring
to all who listen,
to all who hear this triumphant trilling
into a place of fearlessness..
into an ease and a grace of being..
of being in right relationship with all things..
is it not so?

the practice of lojong gives us this slogan ~
always be sustained by cheerfulness
whereby we, as practitioners,
must bring everything to the path -
to the path of our lives..
the rough and tumblies,
the harsh and heavy,
the sicknesses and sours -
(along with good fortune and joy)
usher them right into the very heart of the matter..
actually training our minds..our hearts..
to be more wrenly ~
to actualize the wren's wise song
in the midst of viruses,
in wild and weird politics,
in zoomzoom yoga techno dramas,
even our old age and impending death !

make a joyful noise unto the lord..
the lord of love..

and so i say unto you,
be giddy, be silly, be joyful..
laugh alot and laugh some more..
kiss the air with the breath of joy..
even behind the mask!
for no good reason..
who knows?
could well be a cure .....

mountainal
this first-light mountain, its east peak and west peak.

the first-light creeks:
langunitas, redwood, fern.  their fishes and mosses.

its night and day hawk life, slope-life, fogs, coyote, tan oaks,
white-speckled amanita. its spiderwebs' sequins.

to be personal is easy:
wake. slip arms and legs from sleep into name, into story.

i wanted to be mountainal, wateral, wrenal.
                  ~ jane hirshfield


have a listen ! to one, or two, or three

https://youtu.be/1v5AQ2yiA2o

zoomzoom yoga with dunja..if you are so inclined, sweeties!

we must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned
so as to have the life that is waiting for us.
                              ~ joseph campbell
 
o heavenly daze!
the moon is fulling on this early morning
at the new beginnings of may..
i am slow and small to enter this phase
of my yoga métier..

feeling ill-equipped technically, for one..
vain beyond the knowledge of myself, for two
and three, isn't there enough zoom yoga anyway..?
(plus too much screen time for us all..
crikey, my eyes are sore!)

all that aside, my life and livelihood
have always been tangled up in the study, practice
and offering of the fine art of yogadharma..
so away we go.. jellyrolls!
i'll give it a whirrrrl!

3 yoga practices per week..
TUESDAYS  10 AM
THURSDAYS 10 AM
SUNDAYS  4:30 PM
1 & 1/2 hour sessions
everyone welcome..all levels..
PRACTICE WILL COMMENCE
TUESDAY, MAY 19 @ 10AM


as for the fee for practice..
here is what i have conjured..
if you are able to pay the full fare
$108 for 7 sessions ($15.43 per practice)
 - thank you ! drop-in $18.00
*if you have a series on the books already
these are, of course, redeemable

*for those of you whose income has been
impacted by this health plight and may not be
in a position to pay full fare at this time,
please cheque the discounted prices below
and choose one that will allow you to easily
and sweetly continue to practice with us ~

$81.00 for 7 sessions ($11.57 per practice)
 - thank you!  drop-in $13.50
$63.00 for 7 sessions ($9.00 per session)
thank you! drop-in $10.50 
*also NOTE: those who share a sheltering pod
with family, friends, etc - may share your series.

since no one will be turned away for lack of funds,
feel free to make a donation of your own size
to my mendicant bowl - thank you!

as for payment.. please and thank you ..
* paypal.me/dlingwood
* write a cheque and send to:
          13192 bridgeview way
           mount vernon, WA. 98273

it is under the greatest adversity that there 
exists the greatest potential for doing good,
both for oneself and for others.
                    ~ the 14th  dalai lama
shall we?

if you have any questions /concerns,
please email or text me..
peaceishealthy@gmail.com
360-770-7891

i will be sending out the invitation
for zoomzoom yoga practice with dunja
by a separate e-mail.

please gather any and all props you require
for your home practice and have at the ready
for the mystery of our time together.

such gratitude for all the love and enthusiasm
in sharing yogadharma, for meeting each other
on the mat as we practice what is rare to practice,
for the medicine we cultivate and offer to one another
and the entire infinite galaxies..

give the flame enough oxygen so it can burn.
providing oxygen is one of the noblest vocations.
                  ~ madeleine l'engle

thank you ~
bless you ~
stay safe, be healthy and full of gladness!
LIFE IS BUT A DREAM

!! one more thing..
if you no longer wish to be on this email list,
please let me know..
and/or..if you know of anyone
who might enjoy and benefit
from this experiment of zoom yoga
with me..please forward onward..
OM!

so um ..

so hmmmmmm..
rainbow..
going 'round out that afternoon
to look through the raindrops
to see if i can see it..
nope..
so hum..

how many times do i say
so ummm?
i have started a sadhana
~ each time i hear
(and catch)
myself ~
i chant so hum (so ham)
which translates ..
i am that..
i am that that is
i am pristine awareness 
ultimate reality
so hum..so what...

it is a dandy way of keeping
myself awake to whatever what is is is what i want*
and when i hear another so humming it..
i do the same..
imagine how many times i wake myself up?
ten thouand times or more
reset
clear light mind..
for one bright moment
* galway kinnell - prayer

so ummm..
how would we live without
those wee brown birds whose songs last
a lifetime in the deep woods..?
with such a trill and thrill?
the praises, the prayers..?
so ham
i am that!

the last breath - the first night

the first night  - billy collins

              the worst thing about death must be
              the first night.
                                     ~ jose ramón jiménez

before i opened you, jiménez,
it never occurred to me that day and night
would continue to circle each other in the ring of death,

but now you have me wondering
if there will also be a sun and a moon
and will the dead gather to watch them rise and set

then repair, each soul alone,
to some ghastly equivalent of a bed.
or will the first night be the only night,

a darkness for which we have no other name?
how feeble our vocabulary in the face of death,
how impossible to write it down.

this is where language will stop,
the horse we have ridden all our lives
rearing up at the edge of a dizzying cliff.

the word that was in the beginning
and the word that was made flesh—
those and all the other words will cease.

even now, reading you on this trellised porch,
how can i describe a sun that will shine after death?
but it is enough to frighten me

into paying more attention to the world's day-moon,
to sunlight bright on water
or fragmented in a grove of trees,

and to look more closely here at these small leaves,
these sentinel thorns,
whose employment it is to guard the rose.

PAY MORE ATTENTION!

look to the exhale..
listen! and remember ~
this will be our last breath

embody the echo of each last breath
every time we expire..
at every breath's end,
carve out a wee bit more prana
from the cave of the belly..
from the o so deep cavern that
holds remnants of memory,
the silt of distress,
that worrisome
fabricated
unknown
future..

when we reach the bottom of the barrel..
exhale again.. any amount..
be all out (rather than all in)
a death that is not the end of life
                          ~ bks iyengar

when we are empty, we are contented simplicity
we are not grasping at our i-shape..
desiring this and that..
preening ourselves for a shining reputation
hoarding money and objects
(or toilet paper, for that matter!)
envying one another's traits or experiences ..
we arrive in the center of center..

when you make yourself zero, 
your power becomes invincible ~
                     ~ m.k. gandhi-ji


we are now, all of us, in a great interval
perhaps the great interval
the bardo betwixt and between
our last breath and first night
i imagine we have always been~
it's the moment
we're in it!

be a light..
be a brightness..
impeccable with ourselves
and each another..
we are shining for one another..
we are burning dazzling shimmering
a great benefit for the benefit of all..
breathing in,
breathing out..
and out
and empty!

this is my song

this is my song, o god of all the nations,
a song of peace for lands afar and mine.
this is my home, the country where my heart is,
here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine.

but other hearts in other lands are beating
with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.
my country's skies are bluer than the ocean
and sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine.

but other lands have sunlight, too, and clover
and skies are everywhere as blue as mine.
o hear my song, o god of all the nations
a song of peace for their land and for mine.
                  ~ lloyd stone
                      jean sibelius
                       finlandia


a hymn for these days..
'tis not easy..
knowing how to say what to say..
or to say anything that silence would best enhance
simply the inhale of breath
the outhale of letting go
and so....


this is my heart. it is a good heart.
bones and a membrane of mist and fire
are the woven cover.
when we make love in the flower world
my heart is close enough to sing
to yours in a language that has no use
for clumsy human words.

my  head, is a good head, but it is a hard head
and it wirrs inside with a swarm of worries.
what is the source of this singing, it asks
and if there is a source why can't i see it
right here, right now
as real as these hands hammering
the world together
with nail and sinew?

this is my soul. it is a good soul.
it tells me, "come here forgetful one."
and we sit together with the lilt of small winds
who rattle the scrub oak.
we cook a little something
to eat: a rabbit, some sofkey
then a sip of something sweet
for memory.

this is my song. it is a good song.
it walked forever the border of fire and water
climbed ribs of desire to my lips to sing to you.
its new wings quiver with
vulnerability.

come lie next to me, says my heart.
put your head here.
it is a good thing, says my soul.
                    this is my heart
                        joy harjo

eight stanzas for training the mind

1.
with a determination to accomplish
the highest welfare for all sentient beings
who surpass even a wish-granting jewel
i will learn to hold them supremely dear.

all sentient beings..
wish granting jewels..?
first of all, i must embody this..
jewels, they are/i am -
do i trust this?
know this?
to accomplish their highest welfare
~ to hold them supremely dear?
that is asking the impossible....
yet this is the very first verse to 
set in motion the training of my mind..

2.
whenever i associate with others i will learn
to think of myself as the lowest among all
and respectfully hold others to be supreme
from the very depths of my heart.

o holy mackerel, andy!
this is asking me to place others above myself 
it can't be right..
who wrote this..?..
what is going on here?
respectfully..
i must humbly from the very depths of my heart
defer
yield 
surrender 
my self-grasping
my self-cherishing
my self-important self
to the supreme wish-granting jewels
all sentient beings...
i will learn..

3.
in all actions i will learn to search into my mind
and as soon as an afflictive emotion arises
endangering myself and others
will firmly face and avert it.

well, at least i myself is mentioned here..
although it seems a bit of a scold
my afflictive emotions..
do i actually have them ?
what are they?
greed?
jealousy?
avarice? 
holy shiva! i guess i do..
and they pop up a thousand-fold
on my river of thought..
tucked into my burdened heart of hearts
and i see, yes, i see..
that they are endangering to me..
first and foremost..
and yes, as i firmly face them -
a threat to others..
to the wish-granting jewels..
all sentient bengs
i will learn...

4.
i will learn to cherish all beings of bad nature
and those pressed by strong karmas and sufferings
as if i had found a precious
treasure very difficult to find.

jeezal! what is going on here ?
as if i don't have enough trouble myself..
my own strong karmas and sufferings
cherish? cherish?
bad natured wish-granting jewels..
all those i separate myself from
precious treasures..like gold dust
second to none..without equal
what mirror am i looking through?
the i is not separate from the you
all sentient beings
i will learn..

5.
when others out of jealousy treat me badly
with insult, slander and so on,
i will learn to take all loss
and offer the victory to them.

jealousy slander so on and on..
sounds like some of my afflictive emotions
coming back to haunt and taunt me..
heavenly days! what the farnbang?
i must bow to the injury and be upright
in my inquiry to see where my words
and actions are harmful 
to wish-granting jewels..
numberless sentient beings ..
i will learn...

6.
when one whom i have benefitted with great hope
unreasonably treats me very badly,
i will learn to view this person
as an excellent spiritual guide.

this seems to be going from bad to worse 
abysmal to say the least..
great snakes! 
yet.. hummmm?
what is a spiritual guide?
one who may open my heart to see 
all things, all beings.. all events with new eyes..
so... alright already.. maybe worth a shot..
i will learn...
but i am not making any promises!

7.
in short, i will learn to offer to everyone without exception
all help and happiness directly or indirectly
and respectfully take upon myself
all pain and sufferings of my mothers.

all my mothers..
all my mother sentient beings 
all the wish-granting jewel mothers..
who have somehow been my mothers 
in each and every life that i have had the privilege to live
that i have been a mother to.. in all their precious human births..
again..
i must somehow embody this wisdom..
this awe-inspiring way of seeing the world
and all those in the world..
wish-granting jewels
all sentient beings 
asking alot of my small closed view..
asking me to find a vast new outlook 
to see, to be..
the great wide open..
the immeasurable 
the boundless
the whopping whole picture
i will learn..

8.
i will learn to keep all these practices
undefiled by the stains of the eight worldly conceptions *
and by understanding all phenomena as like illusions
be released from the bondage of attachment.

be released!
wow! gadzooks!
from bondage..
to be liberated..
to self-liberate by my very own actions..
what good fortune..
what bright and mighty medicine!
understanding .. realizing.. actualizing
all phenomena as like illusions..
illusory - all in my very own mind
wish-fulfilling jewels 
all sentient beings
reciprocal gems to bring me to awakening
who are more precious than they?
i will learn...


*8 worldly concepts
       like/dislike
      loss/gain
     fame/disgrace
    praise/blame

soft rain practice here

there is a soft rain outside my door..
it is dark, early, early in the AM of being
i am awake
~ because a fire was in my head   *yeats
toast and tea and clementines
such good and comfortable companions
these words of shantideva, too
having tea and toast with shantideva!
                                                 

overcome all forms of weariness
and ride the horse of bodhichitta
traveling from place of joy 
to place of joy -
what intelligent person 
would not delight 
in such a journey?
           

bodhichitta -
awakened  heart
heart of empathy
heart of compassion
heart of fearlessness
awake
for the great benefit of all beings

here -
the email note sent
to the california pack
of practitioners

namaste ..

here we are..

a pack of yoginis and yogis

practicing in community

smack dab in the middle 

of a life changing situation

for our entire planet..

the yamas and niyamas are of

utmost importance now..

ahimsa, satya, saucha..to name a few ~

bringing forth mindfulness in all our actions, 

reflecting  on our precious human birth 

and its fleeting nature..

cultivating generosity and kindness..

in body, speech and mind..

no doubt you know the preliminaries :

rest

take care not to attend practice when sick

wash hands often..and for 20 seconds..

perhaps while chanting 3 times:

om gate gate 

paragate

parasamgate 

bodhi svaha

use hand sanitizer a lot..

rub not thy face!

refrain from hugging .. such a heartache for me..

refrain from shaking hands

rather, greet one another so :

namaste - anjali mudra - gassho

or from sri lanka ~ with palms folded ~

ayubowen  (may you live a long life)

bring your own props to practice

mat, blocks, straps and blankets

(always a good idea, no matter what..)

let us take good care of ourselves and all beings

by being well-informed, free of harmful reactions,

offering generously our kindness, 

smiles and patience to one another..  

may our every thought, word, deed, breath, and dream 

be of great benefit to all beings..

may we all be healthy, loving and safe..

MAY I REQUEST THAT IF YOU CHOOSE 

NOT TO ATTEND THE PRACTICE SESSIONS, 

KINDLY LET  ME KNOW 

SO WE MAY HOLD YOU IN OUR HEARTS

WHILE WE GATHER TOGETHER TO BE THE MEDICINE..

 ॐ AUM OM  ॐ PRANAVA

the very best, 

the highest, 

the most supreme prayer ~

no wonder it is the sound of the universe..

the hummmmm of the fridge, 

the buzzzzz of the bee, 

the crasssh of the waves, 

the vibraaation of our cell phones

the resonance, 

the echo,

of all that is and is not..

palms folded with love and great gratitude

for each and every one of you ..

OM!

to a robin in lent

you were the first one back,

the first one back.

you clung to a bare black branch,

your habit to choose sundays in march,

wind whirling around you, 

sky grey as a shroud, and wet,

to sing to the flowers, not there yet.

you were not loud.

no, not at all.

but you knew what you were doing.

               ~ elizabeth spires

this..

from sand and foam - kahlil gibran

you may have heard of the blessed mountain.

it is the highest mountain in our world.

when you reach the summit

you would have only one desire;

to descend and be with those

who dwell in the deepest valley.

that is why it is called the blessed mountain.

 praise be!

(used as an expression of relief, joy, gratitude)

i am relieved, i am joy-filled and i am grateful..

the fire in my head has damped down..

my heart is tender with the melancholy of impermanence..

belly full of toast.. 

the ash light has brought the day to my door

i am ready to walk on the coals of awakening this morning..

the inestimable value of the instant is 

proved by its perishability. 

          ~ robert macfarlane