By Wayne Muller

There is a Tibetan parable that says if we put a tablespoon of salt in a glass of water and drink it, the water will taste terrible and bitter. But if we were to stir that same tablespoon of salt into an enormous, clear blue mountain lake, the water in the lake would remain sweet; we would not taste the salt at all.

The problem, the Tibetans say, is not the salt we are given. The real problem is how spacious is the container into which that salt is poured.

The question is not, never, ever, whether or not we will be given challenges and limitations. We will. The question is, how will we hold them, how will we be changed, how will they shape us, what will we bring to the healing of them, what, if anything, will be born in its place?

Pass the Salt, Please



Always With You

From Conversations with God, by Neale Donald Walsch

Do not feel abandoned. I am always with you.
Listen to Me in the truth of your soul.
Listen to Me in the feelings of your heart.
Listen to Me in the quiet of your mind.

Hear Me, everywhere.
Whenever you have a question,
simply know that I have answered it already.
Then open your eyes to your world.
My response could be
in an article already published.
In the sermon already written
and about to be delivered.
In the movie now being made.
In the song just yesterday composed.
In the words about to be said by a loved one.
In the heart of a new friend about to be made.

My Truth is in the whisper of the wind,
the babble of the brook,
the crack of the thunder,
the tap of the rain.
It is the feel of the earth,
the fragrance of the lily,
the warmth of the sun,
the pull of the moon.

My Truth–and your surest help in time of need,
is as awesome as the night sky,
and as simply, incontrovertibly,
trustful as a baby’s gurgle.
It is as loud as a pounding heartbeat,
and as quiet as a breath taken in unity with Me.

I will not leave you,
I can not leave you,
for you are
My creation and My product,
My daughter and My son,
My purpose and My…Self.

Call on Me, therefore,
wherever and whenever
you are separate
from the peace that
I AM.

I will be there.
With Truth.
And Light.
And Love.




Methuselah

Methuselah: Meaning
When He Is Dead It Shall Be Sent
Hebrew Etymology
From (1) the noun מת (mat), man, or מות (mut), death,

and (2) the verb שלח (shalah), to send or let go.

I walked passed this old man of a tree,
On my way to solitude near the dells of the lake;
His stately demur jolted my gaze upward, amazed;
I stood beholding his long branchs, once strong arms;
Poised starkly, in all knowing, pronouncing:
Study and know, no matter the count,
969 were mine, and those days quickly passed.
How much is enough Methuselah?
So many days I want, before the green of my life,
Like yours, flows at last?
Dried out for years you’ve been, perhaps,
More or less, I know not.
Yet here I found you, strong, still, stark;
Seemingly dead, and yet
Your message was sent.




By Ozan Varol

Mother Nature is a great teacher. Trees don’t try to produce fruit year round in an absurd attempt to be more productive. They lie dormant through the fall and the winter, shedding their leaves and conserving resources. Without that period of dormancy, they couldn’t bloom in the spring.

Humans also have seasons. The artist Corita Kent, during one of her own dormant periods, would sit idle and watch a maple tree grow outside her window. “I feel that great new things are happening very quietly inside of me,” she said. “And I know these things have a way, like the maple tree, of finally bursting out in some form.”

Being idle isn’t the same thing as being lazy.

A vacuum isn’t something to be automatically filled.

As the saying goes, it’s the silence in between the notes that makes the music.

So if you’re in between projects or jobs—or even romantic relationships—resist the tendency to immediately fill the void with the next thing.

Great new things are happening quietly inside of you.

Give them the time they need to bloom in all their glory.

Time to Bloom


Not-Knowing

Cast your cares for the stones they are,
Cast away, cast away, cast them near or far,
Throw away, far away, small, medium and large,
Worry not where for the stones may land,
The power of casting comes from the hand;
Now cast away, cast away, cast away all,
So feet may trample over stones carefull cast; now
Trod across, trod across, yes, trod across brave,
Across stone path trusting heart has paved.
Brave heart, true heart, pure heart behold,
Mystery perceived, embraced, and imbued,
Life lived not-knowing is knowing life true.
~DEBreen