Whom can I ask what I came to make happen in this world?
Why do I move without wanting to, why am I not able to sit still?
Why do I go rolling without wheels, flying without wings or feathers,
and why did I decide to migrate if my bones live in Chile?
Why do you do what you do? Why do I do what I do? I’ve been asking myself this question on a daily basis.
What is my intention? What possibility am I working on in this world? The possibility I am working on is connecting people to their deeper selves and bringing their vulnerability into the room. Continue Reading »
When his ship first came to Australia, Cook wrote, the natives Continued fishing, without looking up. Unable, it seems, to fear what was too large to be comprehended.
The world is out of whack. I was in Seattle last week where they have experienced the second coldest spring on record. Denver had its second lowest snowfall on record this winter, while a short distance away on the other side of the Continental Divide, the snows were immense.
Here in New Mexico, we have fires from terrible drought. I feel like I am living in an apocalyptic hellhole with smoke and fires everywhere.
Global warming and other environmental problems, as well as the economic meltdown, are a problem of leadership. And, the solution is leadership. A different kind of leadership. We need leadership at all levels and across sectors to solve our big problems.
What makes a fire burn is space between the logs, a breathing space. Too much of a good thing, too many logs packed in too tight can douse the flames almost as surely as a pail of water would.
So building fires requires attention to the spaces in between, as much as to the wood.
When we are able to build open spaces in the same way we have learned to pile on the logs, then we can come to see how it is fuel, and absence of the fuel together, that make fire possible.
We only need to lay a log lightly from time to time. A fire grows simply because the space is there, with openings in which the flame that knows just how it wants to burn can find its way.
Fire is on my mind. I live in Northern New Mexico. Because of extreme drought, we have fires in the mountains all around where I live. This morning I went outside to ash falling from the sky. Last night I went to bed with a view of fire on the mountaintops by Los Alamos, 30-40 miles or so away. The mountain ridges looked like the cone of a volcano.
Judy Brown’s poem is about a different kind of fire and addresses a different kind of theme about fire. Her poem is about giving space, a light touch, and not micromanaging. It is about allowing what is to be.