tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46975625682817733392024-03-14T15:10:03.538-04:00Dori ReadsDorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.comBlogger626125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-20515151692361120932020-06-12T07:35:00.000-04:002020-06-12T07:35:02.877-04:00RemindersIt has been a long time since I posted here. Some days I think I'm done with being a writer, and then something reminds me that there are still words inside that need to come out. The trigger this week was a dear friend and an admired writer.<br />
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Irene Latham, my dear friend, is hosting Poetry Friday today. She invited us to help her celebrate Nikki Grimes, my admired writer who has collected so many awards in the last year that it's hard to count them.<br />
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So here I am. While this may be my once a year post for 2020, what better reason to find my way back to this old space that still lives.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0f-JH3F8I3w/XuAWlWzpHdI/AAAAAAAAepY/qWzL2X-6ErYIsHES6Dqp28IxjO0RZhObACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Press72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="244" data-original-width="200" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0f-JH3F8I3w/XuAWlWzpHdI/AAAAAAAAepY/qWzL2X-6ErYIsHES6Dqp28IxjO0RZhObACLcBGAsYHQ/s200/Press72.jpg" width="163" /></a>The first time I met Nikki Grimes was about 15 years ago. I was a fledgling author and a sales rep for a book distributor. I had called on the media specialist at my old elementary school, which was a neighborhood school in the 50s and 60s, a white neighborhood school. The media specialist told me that Nikki was going to be speaking that day and invited me to stay. By the time Nikki was there, it was still a neighborhood school, but primarily a black neighborhood school. The same aroma of homemade yeast rolls permeated the halls.<br />
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I hung around after Nikki entertained an entire cafeteria full of kids. She was marvelous, of course. I was one of the few adults not in charge of a line of kids, so I had a few moments to speak with her, to say thanks for her words, to be a little starry-eyed in the presence of someone I admired so much. She seemed tired, and I can only imagine how many schools she had been in that week. She looked at me and said, "I'm getting too old for this!" And mind you, she's only three years older than me.<br />
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By that time in my writer life, I had done a few school visits, primarily in classrooms. Never to a whole school. I understood the physical and emotional demand those visits required. I was so grateful to have seen her doing her work with and for those kids.<br />
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The second time I met Nikki was at a writers' conference, though I don't remember which one or where it was. It was about eight years later in a much more relaxed setting. We had an opportunity to chat and she asked about a a project I was working on. I'm sure I blathered on about my beloved project in the presence of this woman who has written so many beautiful works. At the end of our conversation she offered to help me if I wanted her input. I was stunned. Shortly afterward, my life took a major turn. I opened a yoga studio and my writing life went on the back burner. So while I never completed that project, it still lives inside my head. And while I never took Nikki up on her offer, it's still one of the kindest and best memories of that writing time in my life.<br />
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Perhaps one day the disparate parts of my life will coalesce and I'll finish that book. I'm learning to be where I am in this moment of this day doing what is mine to do. Today that means writing words to celebrate the kindness of a dear friend and an admired writer.<br />
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excerpt from "Ordinary Days -- Jerilyn" by Nikki Grimes in <i>What is goodbye?</i><br />
copyright 2004 - Disney Hyperion<br />
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Ordinary days<br />
are golden,<br />
like ancient coins<br />
recovered from<br />
a treasure hunt.<br />
More of them is<br />
what I want<br />
now that I've learned<br />
to spend<br />
or save each one<br />
as if<br />
it matters.<br />
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Thank you, Nikki and Irene, for sharing your ordinary and extraordinary days with me. They matter greatly, as do you.<br />
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There is more to celebrate with Nikki at Irene's blog, <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Live Your Poem</a>, where she hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today.<br />
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<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-40532879804946516202019-04-13T06:00:00.000-04:002019-04-13T06:00:09.992-04:002019 Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem<div style="text-align: center;">
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It's April again and while that means different things for all of us, one of the delights we share is the Kidslistophere Progressive Poem. Each year, this crazy poem takes on a life of its own as it meanders from blog to blog. This year Matt Forest started us off with the challenge to use song lyrics. So far no one has ventured off the set course. I have to tell you, though, that I seriously considered it. The thing that makes lyrics so hard in my opinion is that most songs tell a story of something that happened in the past and the focus is often on feeling not doing.<br />
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Well, I'm inclined to believe that it's high time our main character in this poem decided to DO SOMETHING! You'd be surprised how hard it is to find lyrics for action. Hence, my temptation to jump ship. However, I tried harder and landed on this one. There is a hint of action with at least a goal in mind.<br />
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And Carole King was a favorite back in the day. Enjoy the song down below if you don't know it.<br />
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<br />Endless summer; I can see for miles…<br />Fun, fun, fun – and the whole world smiles.<br />No time for school- just time to play,<br />we swim the laughin’ sea each and every day.<br /><br />You had only to rise, lean from your window,<br />the curtain opens on a portrait of today.<br />Kodachrome greens, dazzling blue,<br />it’s the chance of a lifetime,<br /><br />make it last forever–ready? Set? Let’s Go!<br />Come, we’ll take a walk, the sun is shining down<br />Not a cloud in the sky, got the sun in my eyes<br />Tomorrow’s here. It’s called today.<br /><br /><b>Gonna get me a piece o' the sky.</b><br /><br />Found Lines:<br /><br />L1 The Who, ‘I Can See for Miles’ / The Beach Boys, ‘Endless Summer’<br />L2 The Beach Boys, ‘Fun, Fun, Fun’ / Dean Martin, ‘When You’re Smiling’<br />L3 The Jamies, ‘Summertime, Summertime’<br />L4 The Doors ‘Summer’s Almost Gone’/ Led Zeppelin ‘Good Times, Bad Times’<br />L5 Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine “You had only to rise, lean from your window,”<br />L6 Joni Mitchell, “Chelsea Morning”<br />L7 Paul Simon, “Kodachrome,” “Dazzling Blue”<br />L8 Dan Fogelberg, “Run for the Roses”<br />L9 Spice Girls, “Wannabe”/ Will Smith, “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It”<br />L10 The Beatles, “Good Day Sunshine”<br />L11 The Carpenters, “Top of the World”<br />L12 Lin-Manuel Miranda, “Underneath the Lovely London Sky” from Mary Poppins Returns<div>
L13 Carole King, "Hi-de-ho (That Old Sweet Roll)"</div>
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Links for the next few lines:</div>
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<b>14 </b>Christie @ <a href="https://wonderingandwondering.wordpress.com/" style="color: #9c7946; text-decoration: none;">Wondering and Wandering</a></div>
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<b>15 </b>Robyn @ <a href="http://www.robynhoodblack.com/blog" style="color: #9c7946; text-decoration: none;">Life on the Deckle Edge</a></div>
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<b>16 </b>Carol @ <a href="https://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/" style="color: #9c7946; text-decoration: none;">Beyond LiteracyLink</a></div>
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Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-40033143675342995822018-11-01T09:59:00.002-04:002018-11-01T10:01:15.982-04:00Spiritual Journey Thursday: GatheringSpiritual Journey Thursday is happening today. Not that every day isn't a spiritual journey--it is, of course. But the first Thursday of the month a few of us blog about our spiritual journey. Today Ramona hosts the gathering at <a href="https://pleasuresfromthepage.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Pleasures from the Page</a> and she has us reflecting on the word "gather."<br />
A good word for this month that holds Thanksgiving and all that goes with family gatherings.<br />
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One of my favorite songs in elementary school was Over the River and Through the Woods. I loved gathering with my cousins at my grandmother's house. We did have to go over a river and through some woods, but there were not horse drawn sleighs and no snow to amount to much. It is south Georgia, for goodness sakes!<br />
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Then Thanksgiving gatherings moved to my mother's house. Then to my house. This year we have plans to fly to Texas to my son's house. Gathering with grandchildren that I don't get to see often enough. The thought brings great joy and the same kind of excitement I remember looking forward to that trip over the river and through the woods as a child!<br />
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Wherever you are gathering this month, I wish you love, joy and great blessings.<br />
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<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-83392487055569902782018-07-04T17:00:00.000-04:002018-07-04T17:00:07.295-04:00Spiritual Journey Thursday: Examen<div>
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It's hard to believe we're at the middle of 2018. Time flies when you're having fun. Or even if you're not! So here we are in the middle of this year, looking back on what has already been accomplished., looking forward to what remains. It's a time to pause. I've written about this <a href="http://www.columbusyogainspired.com/new-blog/2015/6/25/meditation-practice-for-summer-solstice" target="_blank">pause in the middle of the year before</a>, linking it to the breath and the pause between inhale and exhale. It's a time to reflect before we turn the corner and move on toward lies ahead. <br />
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Perhaps you might center your reflections around your one little word for the year or simply examine what has occurred from January to July.<br />
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A few years ago, I was introduced to the Ignatian practice of the examen. Here's a <a href="https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5399fde9e4b0bf580fb53c1b/t/56b79ba1044262b5c6cb5da5/1454873506919/The+Daily+Examen+Prayer.pdf" target="_blank">simple guide to the daily examen</a>. It includes gratitude, petition, review, forgiveness, and renewal.</div>
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In his book, <i>The Practice of Prayer</i>, Robert Warren takes the pattern and expands it "to help us stop and be aware of life and what is happening to us," in order to make a "freely chosen response" to life.<br />
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Let's take the last six months as our period of time under review. Warren breaks this review down into three categories.<br />
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<b>Seeing</b><br />
How have you been aware of God's presence in the last six months? Does any experience stand out? Maybe something you read or someone said. Note anything that comes to mind and give thanks for what is good in your experience.<br />
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<b>Knowing</b><br />
How have your experienced change in yourself? How have you changed your attitude toward God, yourself, or others? What are the positive growth changes? Are there any signs of negative or stuck responses? Thank God for his presence with you in your joys and struggles.<br />
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<b>Going</b><br />
Can you identify any sense of going/stepping out in faith during this time? Give thanks and reaffirm your commitment to continue. Have you sensed God's call to go, but not yet gone? Hold that before God and let him reaffirm your confidence in his ability to help.<br />
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Warren closes with this note: "Remember, this is not to be an inquisition in which you criticize yourself for how you have failed, but a trusting review before the One who is for you. The purpose is to listen more fully to the One who is Love."<br />
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Add your link for Spiritual Journey Thursday below.<br />
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<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-67560824604964473542018-06-07T11:56:00.001-04:002018-06-07T11:56:57.959-04:00SummertimeSpiritual Journey Thursday finds me thinking about summer, since this is Margaret's topic for today's post and she's the host here at <a href="https://reflectionsontheteche.com/2018/06/07/spiritual-journey-first-thursday-summer/" target="_blank">Reflections on the Teche</a>. <div>
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The fireflies in my back yard are one a favorite summer sensation and my 18-month old grandson is fascinated by them. </div>
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Summer is a mixed blessing of work and rest this year. I've recently added six new teacher and about 12 new classes to the schedule at my yoga studio. While this is an absolutely wonderful blessing, it comes at the beginning of summer, which happens to be a very slow season for yoga. Everyone else is off enjoying their family and vacationing and I'm hoping my new teachers don't get discouraged before fall rolls around. It's actually a good season for working on developing teaching skills and new classes. </div>
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The change in my teaching schedule, as a result of all these new additions is quite nice. I am actually finding some time to write again. Hooray!</div>
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My husband and I have a few trips planned. We'll be in Minnesota toward the end of the month with my younger son and his family. June is the only sensible time to go to Minnesota! Of course, I'm looking forward to playing with grands.</div>
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Then in July we'll be at the beach with my older son and his family. Again, joyfully full of grandchildren. </div>
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It's more than enough to fill my summer to the brim. </div>
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<b>More Than Enough</b><div>
by Marge Piercy<br /></div>
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The first lily of June opens its red mouth. <br />All over the sand road where we walk <br />multiflora rose climbs trees cascading <br />white or pink blossoms, simple, intense <br />the scene drifting like colored mist. <br /><br />The arrowhead is spreading its creamy <br />clumps of flower and the blackberries <br />are blooming in the thickets. Season of <br />joy for the bee. The green will never <br />again be so green, so purely and lushly <br /><br />new, </div>
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Read the rest <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42466/more-than-enough" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-42081849403738957222018-04-30T07:30:00.000-04:002018-04-30T07:30:11.104-04:002018 Progressive Poem Ends Here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Welcome to the 2018 Kidslitosphere Progressive Poem, brainchild of Irene Latham. For seven years, we've been creating poems together. 30 days in April, 30 poets, 30 lines of poetry that take us on an adventure, give us room to dream, and challenge the very essence of creating a poem. Take a look at the past poems <a href="http://irenelatham.blogspot.com/p/2013-progressive-poem.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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I missed the sign up on Irene's blog for the Progressive Poem this year. Life has been busy and my energy must be spent wisely. I didn't mean to miss it. I just forgot to check on that Friday in March. It wasn't until Irene emailed me with the subject line "Progressive Poem" that I realized I'd missed it. It was a simple conversation.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Irene: Dear Doraine, there is one slot left -- the last line! Just checking to see if you want it.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Me: (Silent gasp!) Okay. She says quaking in her rain boots. (It was pouring rain on March 11.)</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Irene: You got this, rain-bird. Thank you! xo</span></blockquote>
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And I quaked in my boots for the rest of March, often reminding myself of Irene's "You got this." I spent the first week reading each of your lines, swallowing the panic that rumbled like distant thunder. I don't have a great track record for ending things. I once (and only once) wrote a middle grades novel where I spent the last six months of writing trying to figure out how to find the end.<br />
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"You got this."<br />
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Then through the middle of the month, I found myself grateful that I didn't have to figure out how to get our sweet Jasmine out of Lee's birthday party. If that had been my line, we might still be there partying into the wee hours of April. <br />
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Over the last week, I have done a lot of deep breathing, gently nudging my stomach out of my throat back to the space in my body where it belongs.<br />
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The interesting thing about this progressive poem is that our one line feels so important, no matter where we fall in the list of days. And it is. Every word matters in a poem. Yet, in reality, we are not alone in this process. The work of this poem lies in trusting each other and listening well.<br />
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I recently read a quote from Natalie Diaz who spoke at the 2018 Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan (one of these years I'm going to get there). She said, "We need friends—not just followers—if we’re going to do the slow, often hard, always worthwhile work required to read and write with clarity, creativity, and nuance. "<br />
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That's just what this community is/does.<br />
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For an excellent recap of this poetic journey, read <a href="http://www.teachingauthors.com/2018/04/2018s-progressive-poem-is-here-today.html" target="_blank">April's post</a> with her next-to-last line.<br />
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Each of us, as we've added a line, have played along with <a href="https://myjuicylittleuniverse.blogspot.com/2018/03/pre-progressive-poem-pre-poetry-month.html" target="_blank">Heidi's suggestion</a> for deepening this progressive journey. We were to write down our thoughts after we read Liz's Line 1, hide it from ourselves, and come back to it when we wrote our line.<br />
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<i>Nestled in her cozy bed, a seed stretched. </i><br />
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<i><br /></i></div>
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I wrote: A seed carries its nature within. It grows with strength. Becomes exactly what it's meant to be.<br />
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This is me, trying hard to fly like a rain-bird to the end.<br />
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And just so you know...I don't like messing with other people's lines, but Jane and I talked via email about keeping the tense of line two as she created it, but enhancing the poetic quality with a contraction.<br />
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<br />
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<b>Nestled in her cozy bed, a seed stretched.<br />Oh, what wonderful dreams she'd had!<br /><br />Blooming in midnight moonlight, dancing with<br />the pulse of a thousand stars, sweet Jasmine</b></div>
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<b>invented a game.</b></div>
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<b><br />“Moon?” she called across warm honeyed air.<br />“I’m sad you’re alone; come join Owl and me.<br />We’re feasting on stardrops, we’ll share them with you.”<br /><br />“Come find me,” Moon called, hiding behind a cloud.<br /><br />Secure in gentle talons’ embrace, Jasmine rose<br />and set. She split, twining up Owl’s toes, pale<br />moonbeams sliding in between, Whoosh, Jasmine goes.<br />Owl flew Jasmine between clouds and moon to Lee’s party!<br />Moon, that wily bright balloon, was NOT alone.</b></div>
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<b> </b><br />
<b> Jas grinned,</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b> stretched,</b></div>
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<b><br /> reached,</b></div>
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<b><br /> wrapped<br /><br /> a new,<br /><br /> tender<br /> around<br /> rootlet<br /><br />a trellis Sky held out to her, made of braided wind and song.<br />Her green melody line twisted and clung.<br /><br />Because she was twining poet’s jasmine, she<br />wiggled a wink back at Moon, and began her poem.<br />Her whispered words floated on a puff of wind,<br />filled with light and starsong. “Revelers, lean in –<br />let’s add to this merriment a game that grows<br />wordgifts for Lee. He’s a man who knows<br />selection, collection, and wisely advising<br />these dreamers, word-weavers, and friends.”<br /><br />Jas enfolded Moon-Sky-Owl into the cup of her petals,<br />lifted new greens to the warming rays of spring. Sun<br />smeared the horizon with colour, as Jasmine stretched.<br />She felt powerful. She felt fresh. She bloomed and took a breath</b></div>
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<b>and filled the earth with a fragrance all her own. </b><br />
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Here is the sweet-smelling community of word builders that created our poem. I'm sure Irene will wrap us up and give the poem a title. In the meantime, bloom, my friends. Bloom like Jasmine.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Liz at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://elizabethsteinglass.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Elizabeth Steinglass</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jane at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.raincitylibrarian.ca/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Raincity Librarian</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">7 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Linda at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.teacherdance.org/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">TeacherDance</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">13 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Linda at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://awordedgewiselindamitchell.blogspot.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A Word Edgewise</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">14 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Heidi at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://myjuicylittleuniverse.blogspot.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">my juicy little universe</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">17 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ruth at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">There is no such thing as a Godforsaken town</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">20 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Linda at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://lindakulptrout.blogspot.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Write Time</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">21 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Robyn at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.robynhoodblack.com/blog.htm" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Life on the Deckle Edge</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">22 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tabatha at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://tabathayeatts.blogspot.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">The Opposite of Indifference</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">23 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Amy at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.poemfarm.amylv.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;">The Poem Farm</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">24 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mary Lee at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://readingyear.blogspot.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A Year of Reading</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">25 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kiesha at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://whispersfromtheridge.weebly.com/blog" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Whispers from the Ridge</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">26 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Renee at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.nowaterriver.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">No Water River</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">27 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Buffy at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://buffysilverman.com/blog/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Buffy's Blog</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">28 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kat at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://katswhiskers.wordpress.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Kat's Whiskers</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">29 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">April at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.teachingauthors.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Teaching Authors</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">30 </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Doraine at </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://dorireads.blogspot.com/" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Dori Reads</a></span></span></div>
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Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-4921100930422370282018-04-05T17:27:00.002-04:002018-04-05T17:27:15.963-04:00Poetry as a Spiritual Practice of the Heart<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CzXvBnHnaX4/WsaT_GCh7ZI/AAAAAAAAdjc/GbZUgj17yE8k8gJkzKx7hjZhBL48F_UjQCLcBGAs/s1600/roe-deer-2614967_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CzXvBnHnaX4/WsaT_GCh7ZI/AAAAAAAAdjc/GbZUgj17yE8k8gJkzKx7hjZhBL48F_UjQCLcBGAs/s320/roe-deer-2614967_640.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="https://pixabay.com/en/users/CrizzlDizzl-3480614/" target="_blank">CrizzlDizzl</a></td></tr>
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Today I join my Spiritual Journey family of bloggers as we celebrate National Poetry Month and look at the ways we incorporate poetry as a part of that spiritual practice of the heart.<br />
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One of my favorite writers, Leanne Payne, once said that images are the language of the heart. If that's the case, then poetry with its vocabulary of images, speaks directly to the deepest places within us.<br />
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I have often used poems as a starting place for communion and meditation. There is a kind of wooing in a poem that draws me deeply into stillness and prayer.<br />
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Here is one that has spoken to me recently.<br />
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<b>Vespers</b><br />
by Derrick Austin<br />
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Lord in the pigment, the crushed, colored stones.<br />
Lord in the carved marble chest. I turn away<br />
from art. You are between my eye and what I see.<br />
Forgive my errant gaze. Tonight, I can't sleep<br />
and won't frighten the deer in my peonies.<br />
Like children who rub their grimy hands over everything,<br />
they only want to touch and be touched by grass.<br />
They've never known violence, cars howling out of darkness.<br />
Lord in the camellia, drifting in and out of sight,<br />
like those blushing, perfumed heads will you welcome me?<br />
I, too, am little more than a stranger in your garden.<br />
Stroke my velvety antlers. Open your palms.<br />
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from <i>Between Midnight and Dawn: A Literary Guide to Prayer for Lent, Holy Week, and Eastertide, </i>compiled by Sarah Arthur.<br />
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See what other bloggers have to say about this idea at <a href="https://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/2018/04/poetry-as-spiritual-practice-of-heart.html" target="_blank">Beyond LiteraacyLink</a>. Thanks to Carol Varsalona for hosting today.<br />
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<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-18364111284265422572018-04-02T07:30:00.000-04:002018-04-05T18:02:55.642-04:002018 Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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April is National Poetry Month and there is a flurry of poetic activity all over the web. One of my favorite projects of the month happens in the Kidslitosphere, a group of children's authors, teachers, and poet bloggers who celebrate Poetry Friday each week and a smorgasbord or poetic adventures during April. Seven years ago, Irene Latham began the Progressive Poem, a 30-line poem written by 30 different poets over the month of April. Every year the poem twists and turns with a life all its own as we collaborate with one another and the poem itself. <br />
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I invite you to take this amazing journey with us! </div>
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Here are the links to each day's contributor. </div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>April</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>1 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Liz at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://elizabethsteinglass.com/blog/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Elizabeth Steinglass</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>2 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Jane at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.raincitylibrarian.ca/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Raincity Librarian</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>3 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Laura at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://laurasalas.com/blog/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Writing the World for Kids</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>4 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Michelle at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://michellehbarnes.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Today's Little Ditty</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>5 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Jan at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://bookseedstudio.wordpress.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">bookseedstudio</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>6 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Irene at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.irenelatham.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Live Your Poem</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>7 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Linda at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.teacherdance.org/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">TeacherDance</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>8 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Janet F. at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.irenelatham.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Live Your Poem</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>9 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Ramona at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://pleasuresfromthepage.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Pleasures from the Page</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>10 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Matt at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://mattforrest.wordpress.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Radio, Rhythm and Rhyme</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>11 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Brenda at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://friendlyfairytales.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Friendly Fairy Tales</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>12 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Carol at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Beyond LiteracyLink</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>13 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Linda at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://awordedgewiselindamitchell.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">A Word Edgewise</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>14 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Heidi at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://myjuicylittleuniverse.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">my juicy little universe</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>15 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Donna at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://mainelywrite.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Mainely Write</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>16 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Sarah at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.sarahgracetuttle.com/blog" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Sarah Grace Tuttle</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>17 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Ruth at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">There is no such thing as a Godforsaken town</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>18 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Christie at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://wonderingandwondering.wordpress.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Wondering and Wandering</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>19 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Michelle at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://moreart4all.wordpress.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Michelle Kogan</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>20 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Linda at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://lindakulptrout.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Write Time</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>21 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Robyn at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.robynhoodblack.com/blog.htm" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Life on the Deckle Edge</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>22 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Tabatha at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://tabathayeatts.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">The Opposite of Indifference</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>23 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Amy at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.poemfarm.amylv.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">The Poem Farm</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>24 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Mary Lee at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://readingyear.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">A Year of Reading</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>25 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Kiesha at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://whispersfromtheridge.weebly.com/blog" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Whispers from the Ridge</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>26 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Renee at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.nowaterriver.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">No Water River</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>27 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Buffy at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://buffysilverman.com/blog/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Buffy's Blog</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>28 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Kat at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://katswhiskers.wordpress.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Kat's Whiskers</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>29 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">April at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://www.teachingauthors.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Teaching Authors</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>30 </b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Doraine at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://dorireads.blogspot.com/" style="color: #965e43; text-decoration: none;">Dori Reads</a></span></span></span></u></span></span></div>
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Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-33573305331196483662018-02-28T19:10:00.000-05:002018-02-28T19:10:22.371-05:00Sing!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0hgJzsuKU8/Wm5sd7f-4jI/AAAAAAAAdfo/reNnGglj39IcJ0t7uPtlMeJUXqlGi0Q0gCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/spiritualjourneyfirst-thursday-2018%2Bgraphic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0hgJzsuKU8/Wm5sd7f-4jI/AAAAAAAAdfo/reNnGglj39IcJ0t7uPtlMeJUXqlGi0Q0gCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/spiritualjourneyfirst-thursday-2018%2Bgraphic.jpg" /></a></div>
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Spiritual Journey Thursday has rolled around once again and it's time to chime in with some lovely fellow bloggers and talk about our pilgrimage through life. Our topic today is music. Karen Eastland is guest host for the round up over at <a href="http://www.irenelatham.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Live Your Poem</a> where her topic for the day is "Face the Music."<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Sing, make a joyful sound!</blockquote>
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It's the first line of an old hymn we sang at church when I was a kid. I loved the way the verses modulated a half step up to the next key each time we sang it again and again.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Sing and make melody in your heart.</blockquote>
These words come from a letter Paul wrote to a church in Ephesus in the first century a.d. It's evident from the context of the letter that Paul was in prison and suffering when he wrote it. Clearly he had experience with finding a joyful heart in the middle of difficult circumstances.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
...giving joyful thanks...</blockquote>
This phrase was the heart of my weekly meditation for my yoga classes this week. It also comes from Paul in another letter, Colossians.<br />
<br />
It's interesting to me how these phrases intersect along the idea of joy. Joy is an emotion. We don't have immediate control over our emotions. They are feelings that seem to come and go as they please. But we do have control over our actions. No matter my circumstances, I can sing. No matter what I'm suffering, I can find many things to be thankful for.<br />
<br />
When I was a kid, we often went to my grandparents' house in south Georgia. Between the tiny (and I do mean tiny) town of Adrian and my grandmother's sandy driveway, a bridge spanned the murky waters of the Ohoopee River. My granddaddy called it the Hoopee. Just over the bridge on the left an artesian well bubbled up. Someone had added a pipe to the crack in the rock, but there was no pump, just a constant stream of gurgling fresh water.<br />
<br />
It delighted me as a child. Understanding that there was enough pressure below the ground to force the water up through cracks in the rock didn't alter my fascination.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j_Z8_TaJ-1k/WpdBRKlyq6I/AAAAAAAAdhU/u3bFCBBcMtwbe953fyr2-ZZz8x4xZgubwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j_Z8_TaJ-1k/WpdBRKlyq6I/AAAAAAAAdhU/u3bFCBBcMtwbe953fyr2-ZZz8x4xZgubwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0097.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The block is under the sacrum, not the tailbone or the low back.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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With my students in supported bridge pose this week, we talked about allowing the belly to be soft like a deep bowl and imagine that artesian well bubbling up from within. I think this must be my favorite picture of what joy feels like. Enough pressure created from the choice to give thanks, from the choice to make music in my heart, and as a result joy bubbles up from the depth of my being.<br />
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So, my friends, sing!<br />
<br />
<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-27519588979358791082018-02-01T07:00:00.000-05:002018-02-28T18:17:55.440-05:00Spiritual Journey Thursday: The Man in the Moon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sometimes I think take ourselves way to seriously. We get caught up in our journey and finding our purpose and spend so much time in self-reflection and evaluation. Not that those things are bad, but I firmly believe God make us in his image and laughter must proceed from that making. In a pain science course I recently took, one of of the suggestions for reducing chronic pain was to laugh, especially with someone. I have several good friends who make me laugh and I love being with them. </div>
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So when Donna's prompt for writing today's spiritual journey post from a snippet or poem or quote about the moon popped up, I went straight for Tolkein. I also happen to be reading a very thick book on the Inklings right now as a climb in be every night. (It's not funny at all.) So Tolkein is on my radar at the moment.<br />
Anyway. Here is the poem. Laugh a little. The journey will be lots more fun.</div>
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Then pop over to our host today, Donna at <a href="http://mainelywrite.blogspot.com/">Mainely Write</a>, for more reflections on the moon. <br />
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<b>The Man in the Moon Came Down Too Soon </b><br />
by J. R. R. Tolkien<br />
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There is an inn, a merry old inn<br />
beneath an old grey hill,<br />
And there they brew a beer so brown<br />
That the Man in the Moon himself came down<br />
one night to drink his fill.<br />
<br />
The ostler has a tipsy cat<br />
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;<br />
And up and down he saws his bow<br />
Now squeaking high, now purring low,<br />
now sawing in the middle.<br />
<br />
The landlord keeps a little dog<br />
that is mighty fond of jokes;<br />
When there's good cheer among the guests,<br />
He cocks an ear at all the jests<br />
and laughs until he chokes.<br />
<br />
They also keep a horn-ed cow<br />
as proud as any queen;<br />
But music turns her head like ale,<br />
And makes her wave her tufted tail<br />
and dance upon the green.<br />
<br />
And O! the rows of silver dishes<br />
and the store of silver spoons!<br />
For Sunday there's a special pair,<br />
And these they polish up with care<br />
on Saturday afternoons.<br />
<br />
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,<br />
and the cat began to wail;<br />
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,<br />
The cow in the garden madly pranced<br />
and the little dog chased his tail.<br />
<br />
The Man in the Moon took another mug,<br />
and then rolled beneath his chair;<br />
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,<br />
Till in the sky the stars were pale,<br />
and dawn was in the air.<br />
<br />
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:<br />
'The white horses of the Moon,<br />
They neigh and champ their silver bits;<br />
But their master's been and drowned his wits,<br />
and the Sun'll be rising soon!'<br />
<br />
So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,<br />
a jig that would wake the dead:<br />
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,<br />
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:<br />
'It's after three!' he said.<br />
<br />
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill<br />
and bundled him into the Moon,<br />
While his horses galloped up in rear,<br />
And the cow came capering like a deer,<br />
and a dish ran up with the spoon.<br />
<br />
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;<br />
the dog began to roar,<br />
The cow and the horses stood on their heads;<br />
The guests all bounded from their beds<br />
and danced upon the floor.<br />
<br />
With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke!<br />
the cow jumped over the Moon,<br />
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,<br />
And the Saturday dish went off at a run<br />
with the silver Sunday spoon.<br />
<br />
The round Moon rolled behind the hill,<br />
as the Sun raised up her head.<br />
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;<br />
For though it was day, to her surprise<br />
they all went back to bed!<br />
<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-65717998917236478232018-01-03T22:18:00.002-05:002018-01-03T22:18:32.009-05:00One Little Word for 2018<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /><br />STRETCH<br /><div>
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What does this year hold? There is no way to know, but we can begin the year with an intention to open our hearts to the people, circumstances, and challenges that we will encounter. <br /><br />Over the last few months of 2017, I have often felt David’s instruction in the Psalms to “lean not to your own understanding, but in all your ways acknowledge him” resonate in my heart. I feel very conscious of how much I don’t understand. It is sometimes challenging to move beyond our own perspective and realize our limitations.<br /><br />With that in mind as I move into this new year, I feel the Lord’s encouragement to grow, to open my heart without fear, to strengthen body, soul, and spirit. I have always loved the image used in Isaiah, chapter 54. Verse two says this. “Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes.” This was spoken to people who lived in tents. God was telling them to make room in their hearts, in their homes, in their minds, to make space, room to grow. Not to hold back even with all the challenges that might come along.<br /><br />So that's my intention for the year--to grow, open my heart, and strengthen my body. To stretch in every way I can. </div>
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Margaret hosts the Spiritual Journey Thursday roundup over at <a href="https://reflectionsontheteche.com/2018/01/04/spiritual-journey-first-thursday-one-little-word-for-2018/" target="_blank">Reflections on the Teche</a>. </div>
Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-78684687674696377792017-12-07T19:51:00.001-05:002017-12-07T19:51:14.893-05:00Spiritual Journey FRIDAY?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I remember my grandmother saying she was forever a day late and a dollar short. I'm feeling her words in my bones these days. Yesterday was Spiritual Journey Thursday and I was supposed to post reflections on my one little word for the year. I skipped Poetry Friday -- again -- but I'm determined to find a few reflections on connections!<br />
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Connection was my word for this year. You can look back on my original post <a href="http://dorireads.blogspot.com/2017/02/spiritual-journey-thursday-connection.html" target="_blank">here</a>. I didn't realize until I went back and read this post that I was thinking about pain science way back at the beginning of the year and connecting mind to body. I did end up taking a pain science course for six weeks in October/November. It was wonderful to learn so much. And I'm teaching a workshop on Saturday on avoiding back pain from holiday stress where I will be helping folks understand why they experience chronic pain. So an interesting connection from January to December.<br />
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Connecting with nine grandchildren, all but one, far away is always a challenge. I generally read two books to each of them onto a CD for their birthdays. Though I've been late on a few of the last ones, I have managed to connect with them a bit more this year. Finally having one close by, very close by, next door to be exact, has been a most wonderful connection. Tomorrow I get to have him with me all day long. Poor little guy had shots today and is feeling a little under the weather.<br />
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My writing has taken a bit of a back seat while I sort out my yoga studio, but I'm learning to connect with my yoga audience with a weekly newsletter where I share breathing and stretching tidbits and simple info on poses, as well as a bit of spiritual encouragement. It's been fun.<br />
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Yes, it's been a year of connections, old ones and new ones.<br />
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I haven't a clue what my word for next year might be. Hopefully I'll find that connection before the year is out. Read more reflections at Irene's blog<a href="http://irenelatham.blogspot.com/2017/12/one-last-look-at-abundance-my-2017-one.html" target="_blank"> Live Your Poem</a>.<br />
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<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-2630053288316014772017-11-23T21:11:00.001-05:002017-11-23T21:15:24.773-05:00Happy Thanksgiving Poetry Friday! <br />
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I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!</div>
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It's been two months since my last post. I've missed all my Poetry Friday friends, but I've accomplished a whirlwind of stuff. I moved my yoga studio to a new location with more room and more exposure.<br />
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I started a 200-hr yoga teacher training program. The training runs for ten weekends between September to May. We just finished weekend three and I am remembering just how much I love teaching.<br />
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I took a six-week online pain neuroscience class through my son's physical therapy clinic and absolutely loved absorbing as much information as I could squeeze into my brain. I'm looking forward to translating some of that info into yoga workshops, especially for people struggling with chronic pain.<br />
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Unfortunately, writing has been on the back burner. It will come back, I know it will, but for now, it's still okay to do what's in front of me. Although I have managed a poem or two a month. Here's my poem from this month's Today's Little Ditty Challenge. I think I need to reassure myself that I really did write something this month!<br />
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<b>A Gnarled Oak </b></div>
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extends tumorous limbs across the road,</div>
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the mass of leaves a marvel of deep shade </div>
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despite disease—like our Walmart greeter</div>
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ticking off receipt items with a grin.</div>
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He’s forgotten the lumps under his skin, </div>
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ignores the way eyes skitter from him </div>
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to the latest sale or the cashier making change</div>
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or the house shoe-clad girl in the next aisle. </div>
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The discomfort not his. He smiles and greets,</div>
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his roots sunk deep in some whispered truth</div>
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only his ears are tuned to hear</div>
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and bestows his grace-filled shadow</div>
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without reproof.</div>
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© 2017 Doraine Bennett</div>
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I want to recommend a beautifully written and illustrated book for those of you who love celebrating advent with your family.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.paracletepress.com/Content/Site186/ProductImages/7855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Image result for all creation waits by Gayle Boss" border="0" class="irc_mi" height="320" src="https://www.paracletepress.com/Content/Site186/ProductImages/7855.jpg" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paraclete Press, 2016</td></tr>
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In her introduction, <a href="http://gayleboss.com/" target="_blank">Gayle Boss </a>says, "The practice of Advent has always been about helping us to grasp the mystery of a new beginning out of what looks like death. Other-than-human creatures--sprung like us from the Source of Life--manifest this mystery without question or doubt...They can be to us 'a book about God...a word of God,' the God who comes, even in the darkest season, to bring us a new beginning."</div>
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So begins twenty-four short, lyrical descriptions of animals and their adaptations in winter, enhanced by original woodcuts created by <a href="http://dgkillustration.tumblr.com/">David G. Klein</a>. </div>
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Here is a sampling of the animals and a few excerpts to whet your appetite for this lovely book. </div>
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<i><b>Painted Turtle </b></i>One day in the fall, as water and air cooled, at some precise temperature an ancient bell sounded in the turtle brain. A signal: <i>Take a deep breath.</i> Each creature slipped off her log and swam for the warmer much bottom. Stroking her way through the woven walls of plant stems, she found her bottom place. She closed her eyes and dug into the mud. She buried herself. </blockquote>
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<b><i>Black Bear </i></b>Crouched in the snow-muffled quiet I imagine hearing her slow breathing. I imagine smelling slow-burning bear--the fat she made from all those nuts, berries, bugs, and plants melting and fueling her sleep. She is shrinking--except in the den deep inside her body. There she is multiplying, balls of cells swelling into new forms of her.</blockquote>
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<b><i>Wood Frog </i></b>There will come a warm day in spring when the ice goes out--of the ponds, of his blood--and doesn't return. The with dozens of other wood frogs he'll hop to the pond and send up a thrilling chorus: <i>Death, we've robbed you of your ruin, we've takin you in.</i> </blockquote>
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<b><i>Eastern Fox Squirrel </i></b>He would dig a decoy hole--or two, or more--before depositing a nut. Or after. He came back later and reburied nuts in new places...What he depends on to survive the barren season is the power of memory. I imagine him curled in his nest, a wind-tight ark of leaves and twigs high in the three, each night consulting the map of his memory. </blockquote>
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You may read more <a href="https://www.paracletepress.com/Content/Site186/FilesSamples/1880647855pdf_00000109718.pdf" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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Watch the book trailer <a href="https://www.paracletepress.com/Products/7855/all-creation-waits.aspx" target="_blank">here</a>. You may have to scroll down a bit to find it.</div>
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And if you're looking for something on the more adult level, this is one of my favorites from Sarah Arthur. You can read an excerpt at <a href="http://dorireads.blogspot.com/search?q=sarah+arthur">this post</a> from a few years ago.<br />
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Carol hosts the Poetry Friday roundup this week at <a href="http://carolwscorner.blogspot.com/2017/11/poetry-friday-is-here.html">Carol's Corner</a>.<br />
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Maybe I won't wait two months before I post again! </div>
Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-88114666742917006302017-09-07T16:31:00.002-04:002017-09-07T16:31:24.242-04:00Spiritual Journey Thursday: Nourish<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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Welcome to Spiritual Journey Thursday and a special group of friends blogging each month about our spiritual journeys. Today we are sharing over at Ramona's <a href="http://pleasuresfromthepage.blogspot.com/">Pleasures from the Page</a> about her 2017 One Little Word, "Nourish."<div>
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As I typically do when thinking about a specific word, I went to my dictionary and found this:</div>
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1. provide with the food or other substances necessary for growth, health, and good condition.<br />2. keep (a feeling or belief) in one's mind, typically for a long time.</blockquote>
I've connected with these thoughts on several levels recently. First, I've been considering a new, somewhat mind-boggling (at least for someone who had low fat eating drilled into me for so many years) new perspective on nourishing my body. I've been listening to the Keto for Women Show podcasts by <a href="https://shawn-mynar.mykajabi.com/">Shawn Mynar</a> on my phone for the last month. (Just open your podcast app and type in Keto for Women). They're well-worth considering. I love her tagline: Empowering women to take charge of their health and happiness. So much wonderful information on the many issues we face in light of what the world wants to nourish us with--images of skinny models, advertisements for medicines with so many side-effects it's ridiculous, and a constant push to over-exercise and under eat in order to be accepted. I like this idea of thinking about what goes into my body as nourishing it, but even more as healing it. <div>
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A few weeks ago, I participated in a yoga training that required my body function well for six days from 6am to 9pm with very little down time and lots of interaction with others. I needed my quiet. I needed more rest. My body managed to keep up reasonably well, but I came away with a deeper knowing that I must maintain balance. So I continue to learn. Continue to move forward. </div>
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So, I come to definition #2: To keep (a feeling or belief) in one's mind, typically for a long time. </div>
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We can nourish all kinds of feelings, good ones and not so good. It's a good question to ponder. What feelings/belief am I nurturing? </div>
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I've been reading a book called <i>Too Deep for Words: Rediscovering Lectio Divina </i>by Thelma Hall. This quote stood out to me today. The author is quoting Thomas Merton's reply to a Sufi friend who had asked him how he prayed.</div>
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Now you ask about my method of meditation. Strictly speaking I have a very simple way of prayer. It is centered entirely on attention to the presence of God and to his will and his love. That is to say that it is centered on faith by which alone we can know the presence of God. One might say this gives my (prayer) the character described by the prophet as "being before God as if you saw him." Yet it does not mean imagining anything or conceiving a precise image of God, for to my mind this would be a kind of idolatry. n the contrary, it is a matter of adoring him as all...There is in my heart this great thirst to recognize totally the nothingness of all that is not God. My prayer is a kind of praise rising up out of the center of Nothingness and Silence...It is not "thinking about" anything, but a direct seeking of the face of the invisible, which cannot be found unless we become lost in him who is invisible.</blockquote>
What a beautiful way to nourish the spirit and the soul and the body. <br />
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Eat something wonderful to nourish your body.<br />
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Read great words to nourish your mind.<br />
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Center your attention on the presence of God to nourish your spirit.<br />
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Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-55187113867665595732017-08-24T11:13:00.000-04:002017-08-24T11:13:24.767-04:00Pondering: Contemplation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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from <i>Too Deep for Words: Rediscovering Lectio Divina</i><br />
by Thelma Hall<br />
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Contemplation is a strange new land, where everything natural to us seems to be turned upside down--where we learn a new language (silence), a new way of being (not to <i>do</i> but simply to <i>be</i>), where our thoughts and concepts, our imagination, senses and feelings are abandoned for faith in what is unseen and unfelt, where God's seeming absence (to our senses) <i>is</i> his presence, and his silence (to our ordinary perception) <i>is</i> his speech. It is entering the unknown, letting go of everything familiar we would cling to for security, and discovering that in being "wretchedly and pitiably poor, and blind and naked too" (Revelations 3:17) (which grace reveals to us and which we fear to acknowledge--much less accept--in ourselves) lies the potential for all our hope and joy, because to know our true selves is to know we are loved by God beyond all measure.Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-29954252526943200792017-08-10T06:30:00.000-04:002017-08-10T06:30:09.777-04:00Pondering: Good Intentions<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qSN-Jhb5kP4/WXdDpF9vosI/AAAAAAAAdAA/_8Zc3F0LQfkqH-DEBMtx88LdZsUwGgp0ACK4BGAYYCw/s1600/17853758372_460a095556_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qSN-Jhb5kP4/WXdDpF9vosI/AAAAAAAAdAA/_8Zc3F0LQfkqH-DEBMtx88LdZsUwGgp0ACK4BGAYYCw/s320/17853758372_460a095556_b.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="http://Tom Woodward">Tom Woodward</a></td></tr>
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<br />
from <i>Disciplinary Treatises: (4) The Communion of the Body</i> by Scott Cairns included in <i>At the Still Point</i> by Sarah Arthur<br />
<br />
...Like us all, the saved<br />
need saving mostly from themselves, and so<br />
they make progress, if at all, by dying<br />
<br />
to what they can, acquiescing to this<br />
new pressure, new wind, new breath that would fill<br />
them with something better than their own<br />
<br />
good intentions...Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-47526804493993227632017-08-02T20:47:00.001-04:002017-08-02T20:47:50.623-04:00Spiritual Journey Thursday: New BeginningsOnce a month I blog with a group of friends about our spiritual journey. Today's topic is New Beginnings, hosted by Julianne at <a href="https://jarhartz.com/">To Read To Write To Be</a>.<br />
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I've been inundated by grandchildren this week! Spending time with each one, watching old movies with the older two, keeping them busy with lots of activities, and watching them grow and engage with the world in new ways. They are such fun. There is always something new to enjoy. You never know what they are going to convince you to do--like walking over the dinosaur bones. And I jumped off the high dive for the first time in my life. Grands!<br />
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August brings a new beginning for me with my yoga business. I will be moving to a new location and stepping into a new business model. So many things to think about. So many things to do. I'll share more as I move forward, but I do appreciate you keeping me in your thoughts and prayers as I make this transition. It feels right and exciting.<br />
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In my spiritual journey, I am always asking, "Lord, what are you saying to me?" I'm always trying to learn to listen better, be more aware of God's presence with me, find that still, small voice speaking more clearly. In the busy-ness of the day, I often realize I've forgotten to pay attention. I love that he doesn't mind me starting over again and again.<br />
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Jeremiah was an Old Testament prophet who understood the dilemma, but he also understood his God. Here's what he said: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.<br />
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May you know new beginnings each morning and the great faithfulness of the Lord.<br />
<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-34989502387081131552017-07-28T08:27:00.000-04:002017-07-28T08:27:16.479-04:00Poetry Friday: Gone with the Grands<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Happy Poetry Friday! Linda hosts the Roundup at <a href="http://awordedgewiselindamitchell.blogspot.com/">A Word Edgewise</a>.<br />
<br />
from "Little Gidding," <i>The Four Quartets</i><br />
by T. S. Eliot<br />
<br />
W shall not cease from exploration<br />
And the end of all our exploring<br />
Will be to arrive where we started<br />
And know the place for the first time.<br />
Through the unknown, remembered gate<br />
When the last of earth left to discover<br />
Is that which was the beginning;<br />
At the source of the longest river<br />
The voice of the hidden waterfall<br />
And the children in the apple-tree<br />
Not known, because not looked for<br />
But heart, half-heard, in the stillness<br />
Between two waves of the sea.Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-27623260596541685902017-07-27T07:00:00.000-04:002017-07-27T07:00:17.978-04:00Pondering: Prayer<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TEuGIFFn5CM/WXdAdHplKGI/AAAAAAAAc_0/Hc_A-8iFQOElxl_7SOg0v-t_wQgULTDrwCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/399px-Praying_statue._Church_of_the_Holy_Sepulchre%252C_Jerusalem_031_-_Aug_2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TEuGIFFn5CM/WXdAdHplKGI/AAAAAAAAc_0/Hc_A-8iFQOElxl_7SOg0v-t_wQgULTDrwCK4BGAYYCw/s320/399px-Praying_statue._Church_of_the_Holy_Sepulchre%252C_Jerusalem_031_-_Aug_2011.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="https://guillaumepaumier.com/">Guillaume Paumier, CC_BY</a>.</td></tr>
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from <i>Divina Commedia (I)</i> by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br />
<br />
Far off the noises of the world retreat;<br />
The loud vociferations of the street<br />
Become an undistinguishable roar.<br />
So, as I enter here from day to day,<br />
And leave my burden at this minister gate,<br />
Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray,<br />
The tumult of the time disconsolate<br />
To inarticulate murmurs dies away,<br />
While the eternal ages was and wait.Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-87689304697950832182017-07-13T07:00:00.000-04:002017-07-13T07:00:05.104-04:00Pondering: My Mother's Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My mother died on Sunday. If you know anything about my journey with her, you know it has been rocky for most of my life. She lived from a deeply wounded place. I know she loved Jesus, but she never knew how to take his grace into her heart and allow it to bring healing or change. I know she loved me, and I loved her, too.<br />
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After a long period of estrangement, she had a stroke, and she needed me. Somehow we found common ground over books. I read aloud to her every week for close to ten years. We read every Mrs. Polifax novel ever written, along with many more. In the last year, she was unable to keep her attention on a book for more than a minute or two, so we had short visits filled with Facebook pictures of her great-grandchildren or just sitting. There is sadness, sometimes for what could have been and wasn't, but there is also peace in knowing she understands now all that she could not understand here.<br />
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I wrote this several years ago as I was making my way toward peace with her.<br />
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<b>Mother's Lessons</b><br />
<br />
She taught me gin rummy and badminton,<br />
to make Chef Boyardee Pizza<br />
with a crust ten-cent thin.<br />
She taught me to make my bed<br />
before I was out of it, to clean my room,<br />
to fry chicken in a pan of Crisco,<br />
to practice piano, to listen.<br />
She taught me that homework came before play,<br />
that a "B" was never your best,<br />
that a hairbrush was not meant to collect hair.<br />
She taught me justice, but without<br />
mercy that makes it redemptive.<br />
She taught me to be truthful, but<br />
she meant her version, and it was seldom <br />
spoken in love. She taught me <br />
that getting your own way hurts<br />
the ones close to you. She taught me<br />
silence is not golden when it shuts people out.<br />
She taught me that touch is tender, not tenuous.<br />
She taught me family comes first. <br />
She taught me to give, but gifts<br />
with strings make one feel bought.<br />
She taught me that kindness is<br />
more important than the appearance of kindness.<br />
She taught me when bitterness takes root,<br />
you can lose your best friend.<br />
She taught me God’s love--<br />
without it I might not have survived hers.<br />
She taught me to be a mother.<br />
Sometimes knowing<br />
what not to do is the best lesson.<br />
Today I sat beside her bed and read.<br />
I held her withered hand in mine<br />
and kissed her wrinkled brow, because<br />
I know what it means to need those things.<br />
She taught me that.<br />
<br />
© Doraine Bennett 2012<br />
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<br />
There is a strange feeling of having no more connection to my past, other than memories. A sense that the continuum from past to future has altered and there is only what lies ahead--my children, my grandchildren. A dear friend said, "It is the passing of a generation and this is worth noting and mourning." Indeed.<br />
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My nephew sang this song at the service.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/CKRF8UihM5s" width="560"></iframe><br />
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And one verse shared by the pastor:<br />
<br />
"Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope." 1 Thessalonians 4:13 (NIV)</div>
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I am profoundly grateful that death is not the end. </div>
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Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-63003212350044795202017-07-06T20:19:00.001-04:002017-07-06T20:19:07.786-04:00Spiritual Journey Thursday: Out of My Comfort Zone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yep. Out of my comfort zone. That's where I've been most of the day. Maybe one day I'll tell you about it, but in the meantime, just know, there is joy in the journey, even when it feels terribly unstable underneath your feet!<br />
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Pat hosts the roundup of posts over at <a href="http://writeronahorse.blogspot.com/">Writer on a Horse</a>.Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-92043203165066720402017-06-29T07:00:00.000-04:002017-06-29T07:00:17.174-04:00Pondering: Appearances<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-73Gf9a7v9L4/WVJJ_Ld-gWI/AAAAAAAAc9U/McJBidh-Yq0uYkboJZHlSo39YDWkpwWmgCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/katie-moum-245995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-73Gf9a7v9L4/WVJJ_Ld-gWI/AAAAAAAAc9U/McJBidh-Yq0uYkboJZHlSo39YDWkpwWmgCK4BGAYYCw/s400/katie-moum-245995.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Photo by <a href="http://unsplash.com/photos/xz6x63hqhCY?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Katie Moum</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></td></tr>
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<br />
from <i>At the Back of the North Wind</i> by George MacDonald<br />
<br />
"Ah, but there's another thing, Diamond: what if I should look ugly without being bad--look ugly myself because I am making ugly things beautiful? What then?"<br />
...<br />
<br />
"If you see me with my face all black, don't be frightened. If you see me flapping wings like a bat's, as big as the whole sky, don't be frightened. If you hear me raging ten times worse than Mrs. Bill, the blacksmith's wife--even if you see me looking in at people's windows like Mrs. Eve Dropper, the gardener's wife--you must believe that I am doing my work. Nay, Diamond if I change into a serpent or a tiger, you must not let go your hold of me, for my hand will never change in yours if you keep a good hold. If you keep a hold, you will know who I am all the time, even when you look at me and can't see me the least like the North Wind. I may look something very awful. Do you understand?"Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-25218127442989736922017-06-22T18:59:00.001-04:002017-06-22T18:59:36.426-04:00Poetry Friday: Yoga Poems (Thanks, Linda)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The spare moments of late have indeed been spare. And when they come, I tend to indulge myself with doing mostly nothing within them. Yesterday was almost a full day all to myself. No doctor's appointments or errands to run for my in-laws who have not been well the last month. So I made coffee and settled in with my journal, went for a walk, did an online yoga class, listened to an audio book, and played with my grandson at the creek. Toward the end of the day, I walked barefoot to the mailbox and found a brown envelope addressed to me. Inside was a book of poetry and a note from Linda Baie, who knows the demands of caregiving. </div>
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I have not seen it before, Linda. It was a perfect end to a lovely day. Thank you for your sweet thoughtfulness. </div>
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I had been thinking earlier that I would like to get back to posting on my blog (though I may still be spotty), but didn't feel particularly inspired. As I paged through the book, I found many poems that spoke to me, but thought I would share just this one. </div>
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<b>Eka Pada Rajakapotasana</b></div>
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<b>One-Legged King Pigeon</b></div>
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by Leza Lowitz</div>
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William Carlos Williams</div>
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wrote poems</div>
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on a notebook small enough to fit</div>
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in his breast pocket</div>
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on his medical rounds.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Yasunari Kawabata </div>
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wrote stories</div>
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small enough to fit</div>
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in the palm of the hand.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The body writes stories small enough to fit</div>
<div>
in the tiniest cell.</div>
<div>
Every centimeter</div>
<div>
has a different beginning</div>
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and end.</div>
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Day by day</div>
<div>
the gap between beginning and end </div>
<div>
thigh and floor</div>
<div>
heel and head</div>
<div>
closes up,</div>
<div>
the narrative writ large</div>
<div>
on each small movement.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Start small and the world expands</div>
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as Goethe said, but start anyway.</div>
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In beginnings </div>
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there is the magic</div>
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of <i>yes</i>.</div>
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As much as I like this poem, I don't teach this pose in my classes for a number of reasons. I agree with Jenni Rawlings of <a href="http://www.jennirawlings.com/">Jenni Rawlings Yoga and Movement</a>, who recommends modifications for working to strengthen the hips in the pose rather than overstretch those ligaments, over arch the low back or stress the knee joint! </div>
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<br /></div>
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Check out some alternatives <a href="http://www.jennirawlings.com/blog/three-alternatives-to-pigeon-pose-and-a-brief-discussion-about-stretching?rq=pigeon">here</a>. </div>
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Heidi hosts the roundup today at <a href="http://myjuicylittleuniverse.blogspot.com/2017/06/welcome-summer-round-up-is-here.html">My Juicy Little Universe</a>.</div>
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Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-8361561349604723432017-06-22T08:16:00.001-04:002017-06-22T08:16:37.598-04:00Pondering: Catching Quiet<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Ander Burdain at Unsplash.com</td></tr>
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<br />
from "Passing Ordinary Time"<br />
by Enuma Okoro<br />
<br />
It is a hard art to learn,<br />
catching quiet<br />
by palms raised<br />
cupped in<br />
air shifting location<br />
here and there like<br />
trying to guess the pattern of falling leaves,<br />
and hoping to feel the soft descent of moments<br />
when silence slips<br />
between sounds.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697562568281773339.post-6312535744858711842017-06-02T07:00:00.000-04:002017-06-02T07:00:15.480-04:00My Sentiments Exactly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9ERrVwEF-rg/WTB-lKys2YI/AAAAAAAAc5s/doznMSFmH1sXkj-8djfXStt4nmQbKKroQCLcB/s1600/IMG_3889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9ERrVwEF-rg/WTB-lKys2YI/AAAAAAAAc5s/doznMSFmH1sXkj-8djfXStt4nmQbKKroQCLcB/s400/IMG_3889.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HL51iTgLYcI/WTB-kn0DI8I/AAAAAAAAc5o/Mm7GAdsbcxML1ijSUADDUmppSCvjUDnyACLcB/s1600/IMG_3891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HL51iTgLYcI/WTB-kn0DI8I/AAAAAAAAc5o/Mm7GAdsbcxML1ijSUADDUmppSCvjUDnyACLcB/s400/IMG_3891.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
from <i>Prayers from the Ark</i> by Rumer Godden<br />
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The roundup today is at <a href="http://buffysilverman.com/blog/">Buffy's Blog</a>. </div>
Dorainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.com10