To receive the day

Photo by Angelo Pantazis

Photo by Angelo Pantazis

 

Mid way through this warm autumn,

I sit and watch,

listen and breathe,

feel and appreciate

all the beauty of this season:

The softness of the daylight,

the cool breeze,

clumps of bronze seed pods

waiting to helicopter-fall

from the ash tree,

the thin pale blue sky,

birds chirping, magpies carolling,

shimmering strands of spider webs,

the sun gently warming my skin.

The earth endlessly offers us

so much beauty and nourishment

for free,

yet we rush on with our days,

with the busyness

of the consuming world

we were born into.

Change begins within each of us.

To receive the day

is different than to take.

To appreciate fully

what is freely and generously offered

fills the endless void of lack.

Wants fade away. Needs are fulfilled.

Joy, contentment and peace

are here

in front of us.


 

Dear ones,

Wherever you are in the world, whether it is spring or autumn, monsoon or dry season, I hope that you find many moments each day to be still and enjoy the beauty of this earth in the changing seasons.
May your problems dissipate or even go away.
May you find fulfilment in simplicity and just being here.
May you be inspired to create and to celebrate life and our beautiful mother earth.
May you be kind unto her, unto yourself and to each other.
May kindness become our prime currency now. We need it more than ever.

With love and courage,

Kym xx

Silence, a wise teacher

Picture by Greg Rakozy

Picture by Greg Rakozy

 

Blessed Silence, how grateful I am that you found me once again.

My mind had all these ideas of what I was going to write

but when I sat down to type all the words flew away.

Instead, I discovered a vast space pulsing with tangible quiet

and the deep inner peace that tells me everything is okay.

Your sudden appearance used to distress me.

I questioned how I could call myself a writer if I had nothing to say.

But I have come to realise that you are a wise teacher.

You may show up unexpectedly and catch me by surprise

but you always bring gifts:

Rest. Presence. Depth. Space. Holding.

Time beyond time. Refined listening. Integration.

These gifts cannot be fully received if I am in motion,

chasing after thoughts that were already running away.

New words may come later, perhaps wisdom too

but if there is something truly to be spoken,

Silence, it will arise from you.

There's a poem in my heart that has no words

 

There’s a poem in my heart

that has no words.

What exists before silence

erupts into sound?

Is it a longing to create

or the creation waiting to be born?

It is the questions

that have more meaning

than the answers.

For now, I stay close

to the stirring in my heart,

slowing right down

to meet the essence of creation

that is always there

often shining unseen.

Sometimes it explodes into life

as an unexpected firework

that fizzles back into nothingness

like a falling star.

And sometimes it writes

steadily across a blank page

so sure of itself

that it wants to be tattooed

directly on skin.

Whether it takes permanent form,

disappears

or nothing emerges,

all is the gift of the great mystery.

Being here

whether there are words or silence

is to be truly alive.

The form does not matter

and the meaning does not require words.

The constant inbetween

Dear ones

This week I recommenced a regular walking practice. I call it a practice because I don’t just walk for exercise, I walk to see the world around me slowly on foot, and to invite inspiration for writing as well as for inner knowing and guidance on my life path.

A few nights ago, I left the house a little later than usual, it was very late dusk but not quite nighttime. As I walked I reflected on this particular time of day where it’s not dark, but not light. It’s an inbetween time. And I remembered this poem that I wrote while I was walking the Via Francigena pilgrimage route…

 

You see the road

stretch long before you.

Just as you begin to fall

into despair’s embrace,

you are caught by grace,

set back on your feet,

to do the one thing

you know you can do;

take one step

then one step more.

You are here

where you have

chosen to stand.

The goal is never arriving,

which of course you will

then leave again.

Accept there will always

be a long road,

a coming,

a going.

That stillness you crave

only a temporary possibility.

Let go of the clinging

and the desire

to be other than where you are.

Learn to love this life

in the constant inbetween.

I wrote this poem on Day 15 of my Via Francigena pilgrimage while I was walking from Laon to Corbeny in France. While it was only a 27 kilometre walking day, I felt like I would never make it to Corbeny and that I would be walking forever. To distract myself, I decided that I would write as I walked. I asked for inspiration, opened up a writing app on my Ipad called Textilus and this poem streamed out. With it came a deep peace and acceptance of where I was on my journey and trust that I would arrive when I arrived as I had done for the 14 days I had been walking.

For me, this simple realisation (and re-realisation) of living in the inbetween still brings me much peace and acceptance in my life now. I am inbetween leaving a career and starting a new one but I am filled with peace and faith that I am being guided and supported by life no matter how slowly things seem to unfold.

I hope that this realisation serves you in your life too.

And if you are contemplating a journey such as Via Francigena, I hope you will trust the whispers of your heart urging you to go. The calling is sacred. The insights that are waiting to be revealed to you may continue to serve you for the rest of your life too.

With love and courage,

Kym xx

Are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?

Dear ones,

I am still catching up with myself after returning from Italy last weekend and celebrating my husband’s birthday this weekend. I’ve never been one to suffer jet lag. Usually a long sleep when I return is enough to get me back in synch. But this time jet lag hit me hard with a lot of brain fog and disturbed sleeping patterns for the last week.

Last week, one of my favourite poets, Mary Oliver passed away. In case you don’t know of her, Mary was an American and prize -winning poet, having won the Pulitzer prize. Her poems focused on nature, her relationship to it and a sense of wonder.

I am so grateful for her poems. Reading them drops me into my own deeper relationship with nature and my soul. They remind me of what is truly important. And often wake something up in me, helping me look at my life and the world around me in a different way.

The beauty of Mary’s poems is that often they are a mediative container that opens you to the one line you really need to hear.

One of my favourite poems is, “Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches.” Whilst I would love to share it with you here, copyright laws prohibit this.

In the three pages of this poem, there is one line that has always stood out to me as a guiding star:

Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?

Sometimes I breathe shallow to avoid deep feelings.

Sometimes I feel like I get stuck on the surface of life unable to dive as deeply in the outer world as I do in my inner world.

Sometimes I get distracted from what really matters to me.

To me, there is an urgent reminder in this question. Life is short. Don’t waste it. Don’t get stuck pursuing things that don’t matter.

Although the question has a yes or no answer, in my mind, it is really asking, if you are breathing just a little, how can you breathe a little more deeply? How can you take in more life? How can you be more true to yourself?

So dear ones, I leave you with these questions. If you would like to share you responses with me, please feel free to email me or leave a comment below the blog post.

And to Mary Oliver, thank you for your wisdom, inspiration and teachings that live on in the legacy of poems you leave behind.

With love and courage,

Kym xx

Don’t hold back, your inspiration is the medicine we need

Don’t hold back, your inspiration is the medicine we need

Out of nowhere, inspiration flares as you receive an idea about something to write, paint, create, dance, make.  It lights you up as excitement and possibility surge through your body.

Then one of two things happen:

  1. Your mind interrupts the flow with all the reasons of why it is a stupid idea:

    It’s unoriginal, a waste of time, a waste of energy, a waste of money;
    It won’t lead anywhere or to anything;
    No one will be interested in it;


    OR

2.     Some other part of your life gets in the way. 

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