Heavy

I just discovered that “Stories that Must Not Die” posted a story Sreejit wrote about a painful and tragic experience in his life. I believe it will touch many of you.

The Bug Mother

Yesterday, I visited a friend who calls herself a Bug Mother. Her “children” are Giant Spiny Australian Leaf bugs (Extatosoma Tiaratum). Right now she has nine of them; three are babies, three are molting and three are young adolescents. I took a photo of her holding one of the adolescent bugs.The adults will be twice this size.

Below are links to two articles she wrote about her bugs last year. I find them fascinating.

Becoming a Bug Mother Apr-2014 Page 12-15
Follow-up to “Becoming a Bug Mother” Aug 2014 Page 10-12

Empathic apes

I was profoundly moved by Hariod’s recent post and found both the style and the content of the video that followed fascinating and instructive. I hope the post and video are as meaningful to you as they were to me.

contentedness.net

Orangutan mother and kids. By Patrick Bouquet, Chantilly

The year is 1955, and far from the nearest village, somewhere within the Northwestern jungle region of Thailand, a 48 year-old Englishman and ordainee to the Buddhist monkhood sits quietly in studious attention. A few feet away, a female ape sits, arms carefully wrapped around some precious possession. The monk first chanced upon her the previous day, and due to the curiosity roused in observing her melancholic countenance, has remained respectfully nearby to her. A trust has developed, the ape sensing the monk’s gentle disposition and harmlessness. He really ought to be making his way to the village for alms, yet somehow senses that he should stay. A silent, palpable communication has developed between the two, and slowly, carefully and deliberately, the ape, her sadness still etched upon her face, finally unfolds her arms and offers a first sight of what she…

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Garden Harvest: August 7-11

I attended a Sanskrit intensive in Olympia, Washington from August 7-9. This is what I harvested from my garden just before I left Seattle and when I came home! And I had given away two bags of vegetables days before I went to the intensive. What a summer this has been.

Vegetable Destination: My stomach, Mother’s Kitchen (homeless feeding program), friends, relatives, and the food bank!

More Than Words

I absolutely love this poem. It was written by Sonya at Follow Your Shadow.

In fact, I like it so much that I’m going to print it out and frame it! I also enjoyed the video that accompanies the poem.

SONYA KASSAM

I’d rather be the rhythm than the lyrics
I’d rather be the paper than the ink
I’d rather be the ears than the tongue
I’d rather be the photo than the caption
Recognise me through my deeds
Rather than my vows
Identify me with my smile
Not my prayer
May my utterances
Be overpowered by my expressions
Pay little attention to my language
For all the poetry I have penned
And will ever write
I want to be more than my words
More than words…

I’d Rather Be…
(Thank you Sreejit! Superb inspiration)

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The Show

Trying to “stay in control” causes so much of our pain. How different our lives would be if we would let go and let life unfold.

Sreejit of “The Seeker’s Dungeon” recently posted a powerful poem about letting go so I thought I would pass it on!

Don’t call me a good mother

I just finished reading this incredible post. I love and respect the parenting values the blogger holds dear and believe she is an amazing role model. I think there is wisdom in this post for anyone who has contact with children……and also for those of you who are learning to “parent” your “inner” child(ren)!

A Leaf in Springtime

Don’t call me a good mother.

For being good somehow means doing all the “right things”. And to be honest, I’m not necessarily all that concerned about doing the “right things”.

I’m more concerned about doing the brave thing. The thing that is needed to be done even when nobody understands. The thing that might raise a few eyebrows. Or even shock some folks. The thing that is contrary to what is popular or trendy. Contrary to opinions, charts and reports. Contrary to what everyone says is right.

For I am more concerned about the man my child will become one day. Even more than my own concern for being rated good.

For you see, I am not merely raising a child. I am raising a new race of man. A father. A husband. A friend. A team mate. A son. A seeker. A world citizen.

And because of that…

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A Lesson in…

A friend of mine recently posted a poem called Inscription of Hope. The poem was originally found in a basement where Jewish people had been hiding during the Holocaust. I found the poem SO inspiring so decided to share it on my blog as well.

A Thing of Grace

So there is an old poem that was made into a song that I have carried with my since my childhood. It was written by Jewish refugees on a wall in their basement annex in Germany during World War II.

I am including the lyrics here for you to read, but to me they have always spoken to that place of strength that exists – whether it is a place that is experienced from our internal strengths or something external we draw from, there is a place we find that houses the strength we need to continue, and a wellspring of grace that allows us to move through the world with the humility, confidence, and faith needed to not despair at the harshness of the world.
INSCRIPTION OF HOPE

I believe in the sun, even when it is not shining.
And I believe in love, even when there’s no one…

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At the Feet of the Ganga

Sreejit had this experience standing in front of the holy Ganges River, which is also called Ganga. I laughed so much when I read it, and totally related, so I thought I would share it on my blog as well.

Long Song Medley.

I just listened to this medley on Ronovan Writes (https://ronovanwrites.wordpress.com). What a trip down memory lane it was. And I thought the singers were amazing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

ronovanwrites