Vast enough

“When we stop distracting ourselves, and courageously dive into the heart of any feeling, positive or negative, light or dark, right or wrong, we rediscover the vast ocean of who we are. For every feeling is made of unspeakable intelligence, and no feeling is a mistake. And we are vast enough to hold it all.” – Jeff Foster

(via Jeff Foster Life Without a Centre)

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Random act of lovingkindess

My heart opens when I watch this simple kindness unfold.

It’s when he goes back and gently places the hat on the man’s head that I see it is like the act of a mother caring for her child. One YouTube comment I came across reads ‘this man is surely going to heaven.’ But I think if we are this open and allow our natural innocence be our first response, this earth is heaven.

(via The Telegraph)

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It’s all an inside game…

This may be the best 21 minutes of dharma you ever hear. Adyashanti striking to the root. Funny, clear, beautiful.

“You don’t need acceptance, you need truth. We can’t accept until we see the truth, until we see that the way we hold the world, our selves and others — the ideas we have about them — are in no way true or valid whatsoever.”

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Meet pain with compassion

In this 3-minute video, Dr. Gabor Maté, a Vancouver-based physician and author, known widely for his work in addiction medicine, speaks clearly on the root cause of addictions and how to heal them. Spoiler alert: the root cause is emotional pain — and avoiding or running from that pain, and the cure is learning to be with your pain — to meet it, and yourself, with compassion.

(via reset.me)

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Endangered pleasure

IMG_5481I love to hold hands. There is a basic deep connection in the holding of hands. It is intimate. A direct path from one heart to another.

I want to hold the hand of a lover under the covers laying in bed, while walking at night in the park, while driving country roads in the car.

I want to hold the hand of a friend as she tells me her secret thoughts or maybe we just sit silently.

I want to hold my grandmother’s hand again, feel her soft worked-in skin, her strong bony fingers.

I want to go to the hospital and hold hands with strangers who need a hand to hold. Need it more than medicine and more than words.

I want to hold hands with my brother, both in our forties now, and trammel all taboos that hold one heart at a distance from another.

 

About this piece: I wrote this recently as a 10-minute exercise in a workshop held by Melinda Burns. Melinda is a local Guelph writer who has been leading writing workshops for three decades. She is an incredible talent and one of the gentlest people I know. If you’re interested in writing with her, there’s a Fiction Workshop starting up next Thursday, March 13th, 2014 and running every two weeks until May 22nd.

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Willing to be

With the GrainI am the one who is willing to grow. Fresh, bright, blooming. From mud, from shit, from seed, then sprout. From sunshine and rain, cooling wind. From garden bed. From a beginningless past, a universe of conditions. Bumping and exploding through space and time.

I tell stories. Like, I am the yellowest flower on the table. Or, I remember a day that smelled like fresh cut grass. And O, Lordy, when they came to cut me down, you can’t believe the tears. Sit and let me tell you about how my petals are numbered, won’t be long before I wilt, then wither, then decompose.

Endless stories tell endless stories tell endless stories.

I am the one being grown. Life streams around me and through me. Regardless of how I feel about it. If I rail against it or if I dance with it. Doesn’t matter. It unfolds and unfolds and unfolds.

I am the one who is willing to change, to relax, to listen as much as I talk.

I am willing to be, lived.

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