Saturday, August 02, 2014

Lingering near the well of remembrance....

During these past few days, I have been learning, not just to release all that I thought I once knew, even the most closely-held longings, into the light-bl
ossom of the heart, but to allow the river of forgiveness and love to flow through me without impediment. There is no room in me for bitter. Masks are discarded, form again, then fall away, unneeded. Bindings are undone. In this gentle Northern summer before the initiation of the long chill, intermittent rains pitter-patter, deepening the emerald green of the leaves. In the evenings, the clouds fill with gold, or are billowing volcanoes of rose and silver.

Not long ago, I sensed a turning point. The wheel of love is coming 'round. 
It has not always been paradise, as I am sure you might understand. There has been a constant tapping, tugging and pulling at my mind/body. The birth-pangs of the new. An aching head, a confused heart, the consciousness of the disintegration of selves, before re-integration. There have been lessons: to observe and change my own thoughts into ones of nurturing and tenderness. The realization that harsh judgment is not necessary. (May I grow in wisdom and discernment, nonetheless.)





I steal a few free moments to rush outdoors, to touch the spruce and birch trees in affectionate greetings. I throw myself onto the grass and clover, prostrate myself, and kiss the earth, in all four directions. If I do not quite know how to trust, at least I know the surety of the soil, of leaf, tree, branch, and sky. In a safe space I have worked diligently to create (with the assistance of angels, seen and unseen), I allow myself to be washed by the light of summer, throughout the days and the white nights. 


Then I am filled over and over by an invisible fountain of gladness, and with my waking breath, and before I sleep: one prayer, one thought: may healing and joy come to all. May Our Lady's veil of protection cover her children, everywhere.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Zemfira - Spasibo



Zemfira sets a high bar.
I'm leaping....

Gladsome Light (Rachmaninoff, All-Night Vigil)

It is said that this hymn was originally written to be sung by ordinary folk during the lighting of the lamps in the evenings, before the advent of electric bulbs.




In Rachmaninoff's version of the hymn, which is one of my favorite compositions of his, the melodic lines are caught mysteriously, infectiously, like candle-fire, by one part of the choir and passed to another.

Enjoy this performance by several Utah-based choirs. A peaceful even-tide to those who are going to their rest, and salutations of the dawn to those who are rising.

The mountains held up the sky like pillars, releasing plumes of pebbles, streams and silt as far as my girlish eyes could follow, and w...

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