Story Time

Endings arrive because they must
For every story, season, or life
Is woven, is cast, is spun from dust
And from dust all things always begin
Unfolding, unwinding, unfurling
Like so much dust upon the wind
From dust, tall tales of glory regale
From dust, a child’s fairy tale
From dust, epic legends are staged
From dust, saints and demons engage
From dust, we run
From dust, we rage
Because we know
From dust, all things will begin
From dust, all things will also end.

Do not despair of endings. Endings are just a place of beginning. As long as you are found breathing, the end, your end, is not yet realized. This is good news, you still have time to finish your story well. A happy ending is within your power to script. –DEBreen

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A New Year’s Conversation

Today is the first day of 2018; it is New Year’s day, and it seems everyone is eager to ask or know, “What is your New Year’s resolution?”  I have resigned myself (happily) to the fact that I will begin another New Year without a traditional ‘resolution’ in place. Perhaps I make too much ado about nothing, but my resolution resistance results from having carelessly made too many New Year’s resolutions in years past. I just feel over-aged (sensible, experienced) to be conned into making an order for change simply because the calendar page has flipped.

I acknowledge this practice is traditional and often considered a fashionable thing to do…making resolutions. And as such it does provide fodder for water cooler exchanges during the first weeks of the new year with those of whom we are acquainted. But in reality, the ‘new’ wears off most resolutions before month’s end. Surely there is a more effective mechanism for making long-standing change in one’s life which surpasses this conventional, seasonal system.

So what is our fascination with all things NEW? Why do new things beckon such hope in our psyche, as though all things are possible for us, personally and collectively…simply because we enter a New Year? Why do we give so much prestige to the beginning of things? A new relationship; a new material acquisition; a new skill learned; a new experience acquired. A new life born. A new season begun. Why is ‘new’ so appealing?

New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings. Lao Tzu

Lest we forget that ‘new’ has a very limited shelf-life, perhaps we may better understand our attraction to ‘new things’ if we realize that our human nature is strongly wired to crave the rush of change and novel experiences. It is no wonder then, that we enjoy celebrating a New Year, and all new things, because in doing so we acknowledge and embrace NEW as a symbol of HOPE. And hope always expects that change will work in our behalf.

There will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning. Louis L’Amour

We see this cycle in the seasons of nature. One season gives way (dies) to usher in the new of the next season. And again, the dark of night transforms the new of day with the rising of the morning sun. Instinctively we know that ‘new’ equates to vitality and life force. The newborn infant screams this message loudly for all to hear: I am alive! I am viable! I am vital! I am ready to grow and to transform! And yet just minutes before the newborn’s birth, she was forcefully expelled from the womb of her first existence.

Now that I have finished this New Year’s conversation with you all, I feel a certain excitement creeping into my mind, my emotions and my thinking. I feel the desire to embrace this New Year, with all it’s propensity for change and uncertainty, with the lusty cry of a newborn babe! I have arrived! I am fully awakened to this new day in this new year! I am fully alive and equal to the coming challenges…fully prepared to experience this new season with eyes wide open…fully resolved to embrace hope through the months of this coming year…Happy New Year 2018! And Happy New Year to all who read this little blog post!

One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things. Henry Miller


On Fire!

Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.
Jennifer Lee, filmmaker

What sets my soul on fire? Wow…what a question to wake up to this morning! I found the above quote in my inbox compliments of the Runner’s World daily newsletter. Honestly, I am surprised that this quote received such a reaction from my 5am, pre-caffeinated mind. Why does a soul on fire intrigue me so? Does that intrigue you?

So intrigued, I continue to wonder…what does a life (soul) set on fire look and feel like? Have I ever experienced such a thing in my life? Have I ever pursued such a condition for myself? Does a soul on fire burn slow and steady or rage flaming? Surely a fire must be continuously stoked? How does one keep or find the combustible material(s) for said soul fire? Do I fearlessly pursue anything? So many questions…not so many answers; but it is early in the morning!

I just don’t understand people not being passionate about something. Just have passion in what you do, and do it with all your heart
Jon Sutherland ~ run streaker (17,721 days straight of running)

Okay, so with a little more caffeine in my system, I begin to see that perhaps I do have a few things I pursue with some amount of energy and frequency in my life. When I consider how I gravitate towards several activities repeatedly, on purpose, for personal satisfaction or enjoyment, and that I am not easily discouraged or distracted from engaging in said activities on a daily basis (running, writing, reading, motivating others to become more active, etc.), then I realize that I may indeed be living as one who has a fire kindled at her center…maybe not a raging conflagration, but a fire burning is a flame by definition regardless of its burning intensity.

Human beings are so made that whenever anything fires the soul, impossibilities vanish. A fire in the heart lifts everything in your life. That’s why passionate leaders are so effective. A leader with great passion and few skills always outperforms a leader with great skills and no passion.
John C Maxwell

Fully awake now, I feel the warmth from center ooze into the extremities of my mind and body. I am beginning to understand my initial attraction and resistance to this morning’s quote in my inbox.

The light switch just flipped on when I realized that I resisted the idea of passionate pursuit because it just sounds like so much hard work and effort. A fearless pursuit of anything requires dedication, determination, drive and singularity of purpose. Considered from this perspective, it sounds like another job…ugh…who needs more work? Not I!

BUT WAIT, when I go about my day engaged in those things which I’m passionate about, these things are not like work to me. HELLO! My PASSIONS = My FUN and fun is not hard! Fun is easy! I love to do my fun things! Isn’t that true for all of you too? Oh my, but I am finally, fully alert. Now I see why this morning’s quote caught my attention. Now I understand how and why I must fearlessly pursue those things which kindle my soul to fire.

Coffee anyone?


Underneath it all, the everything of my days,
Time, timbre, tempo, tone skillfully scored,
Upon the tablet, the clef of my heart,
Playing the treble, then again on bass,
Tickling, fleeting notes like praise;
Brings dancing to feet; brings singing to voice.

Music to my ears; color for my eyes; sweet on my tongue;
All is possible, with harmony and dissonance.
Perfect juxtaposition; give and take; calm and boisterous.
Lived to the hilt; embracing everything and nothing.
Sweet symphony! Life!
Breathe in…breathe out.

Playful rhythms thrum my mind, like river’s current;
Trilling minutes trip away as water over fall;
Dribbling in agony, the seconds sometimes will,
Dribbling in agony, an hour wanting to fill;
Other days swooping minutes fly fast;
Fly fast minutes, no shadows to cast!
Whether perceived or not, time does pass;
Whether perceived or not, time does cadence
Its perfection the percussion of marching,
Its perfection the marching, no end its knowing!

Can you hear it? Do you perceive it? Feel it do you not?
The music of the sphere?
Am I alone, in this wonder to partake?
A witness solitaire, to the rhythms on the air;
See it expand; notice its contraction; behold its height, width, depth.
Its percussive beat syncs with my every breath.

via Daily Prompt: Percussive

Life in Particular

To live life sleeping is to live as feather, blown in the breeze.
To live life trusting is to live as eagle, peaceful above the fray.
To live life fearing is to live as coward, afraid of that which is not.
To live life embracing is to live as mother, alive to possibility.
To live life doubting is to live as beast, restless to roam.
To live life accepting is to live as child, carefree in bliss.
To live life striving is to live as competitor, stranger of idleness.
To live life dying is to live as divine, extravagant without end.
To live life loving is to live as fire, burning unconsumed.

Doesn’t everything die at last and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? ~Mary Oliver


What Are You Waiting For?

To wait is to partake of the human condition.
To wait patiently is to become like the divine.

Why do we feel so put upon, so grated against when waiting is required or requested of us? And yet, every created thing on earth is subject to seasons or periods of waiting. That we feel we should be exempt from a waiting season is perhaps unjustified and irrational.

So then, since we are not exempt from this great equalizer, we acquiesce and assent: we will always be subject to the ‘waiting rooms‘ of life.  Waiting puts us at dis-ease because to wait is to witness the passing of a most precious commodity: our time. And to be human is to experience the tides of time propelling us forward. Onward always time sweeps us unceasingly closer to the shores of our desires and fears or it pushes us further away from the ports of our comforts and homelands.

Waiting can be the most intense and poignant of all human experiences—the experience which, above all others, strips us of affectation and self-deception and reveals to us the reality of our needs, our values, and ourselves.
W.H. Vanstone

Perhaps the problem we have with ‘waiting’ arises from the meaning we attach to it. For myself, I am learning that to wait with impatience is to disdain the chain which anchors me to the present moment. And our modern culture informs us how best to keep time; to make the most of time is to not waste it in waiting.

We are taught to keep ourselves busy…and distractions of each sort beg for entrance into our moments; mindless entertainments promise to fill our every idleness.  Additionally, I believe our modern mind struggles with waiting because we equate waiting with inactivity. And inactivity is deemed an unacceptable waste because we perceive it a detour from the tasks of our own busyness…from rowing ourselves towards the desired shoreline of our next appointment, goal or aspiration.

Now that I think about this, I am becoming aware that it is during the times of my enforced waiting, whether due to sickness, misfortune or deviation from plans made, when waiting feels like the traversing of a wasteland….and I am as one who is adrift on the open sea of innumerable minutes, hours, and days; alone and afloat in my little boat with no oars, a slow leak and only my own thoughts for companion.

Perhaps this is why I (we) so strongly resist life’s waiting rooms, because it is in this place wherein we must sit in such close proximity to self. To wait patiently, cheerily, is to trust that this time of seeming inactivity is an opportunity to grow…to expand…to enlarge…in our relationship. And not only in relationship with our self but also with the others who paddle their boats so near to us.

It is strange that the years teach us patience; that the shorter our time,
the greater our capacity for waiting.
Elizabeth Taylor

So I have taken these moments today, to try to teach myself again how to be comfortable in the ‘waiting room’. Of course there are abundant opportunities every day to school myself on this topic. You too, no doubt, have similar opportunities.

Consider some of life’s waiting rooms: the lines we stand in queue; the weekday commuter traffic in which we drive; waiting for school or medical test outcomes to be revealed; a vacation hoped for; planing for a move, or birth, new job or marriage; wading through personal wreckage of a failure or loss.

So in waiting I am learning that it is possible to wait with peace and purpose; because in waiting I have found songs to sing; wounds to bind; corners to sweep; weeds to pull; seeds to plant; poetry to write; tears to wipe; arms to hug; prayers to pray; hands to hold; legs to run; dreams to imagine; hurts to forgive; grace to notice; love to make; joy to share; and life to live…whether I’m waiting or not.


Of Sheets and Socks


I was putting away a basket of clean laundry this morning and I noticed how my little running socks and dryer sheets could hide out unnoticed in the deep pockets of the king size fitted bed sheet. It made me chuckle because I have often re-discovered a lost sock or small clothing item many weeks later when putting a clean fitted sheet on the bed for the first time after its laundering. Upon such a discovery, I’ll scold myself for not checking the deep pockets before putting the clean sheets away, and then think nothing more about the lost and found item while I return it to its rightful place in my drawer.

But this morning after putting the clean socks and sheets away, I considered how often these lost items go unnoticed, until I need them most. Then I made this funny little connection about little lost things…like the little…

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