Sunday, March 2, 2014

What REALLY matters?
Being Here. Feeling the warm hum of my body, the peace in my Heart,
my light of consciousness gazing out at the world through these eyes.

A mind-pausing sunset pouring liquid fire on the water and clouds.
The taste of Spring in the air, buoying my spirit after a long winter.
Canyon waterfall swimming with a friend.
Waking briefly on a summer night, hearing the crickets and the breeze in the trees, and drifting peacefully back to sleep.
Jogging on a brilliant summer morning and enjoying this magical physical body.
An summer-warm Autumn morning than sent chills through me it was so sublime.
Stories around a campfire, feet warm back cold entranced in the flames.
A quiet-minded walk in the woods with snow falling and four deer crossing my path.
Double rainbow over a misty Lake Superior after a storm.
A golden slice of October grass-lying by the lake near dusk.
The sound of rain on the roof of my tent.
Snorkeling with Manta rays in the Carribbean.
A squirt gun fight with my family.
Biking home like a laughing madman as a huge storm rolled in.
Road trip to my friend's home on the rez in South Dakota.
More stars than sky one night in Costa Rica.

Remembering to do things every day that my Heart will remember.
Don't wake for the wake-up call.
Wake up Now.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

"Contentment and happiness depend solely on the mind, not on external objects or circumstances."-Amma

Wednesday, March 30, 2011


"There is only one success- to be able to spend your own life in your own way."
Christopher Morley

Monday, February 21, 2011

"They deem me mad because I will not trade my days for gold,
and I deem them mad because they think my days have a price."
-Kahlil Gibran
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Friday, February 18, 2011

A Sonnet for Spring

Tepid green

Ripe watermelons gush in summer bloom,
we are alive with juicy glow, and find
each bite oozing divine, a tender chime.
Sunlight's been cast, we walk the sky as moons.
Its nectar swallows us in sweet cocoons.
Winter - wistful, always wanting, our minds confined,
deceitful waves disband, unfurl like like time
abandoned, chill winds drain us to pale mushrooms.

Asleep in shadows, stretch your leaves, go fallow,
the rhythms flow, to listen! - from our roots.
To shrink, to die, to blossom once again
frosted, let dew fill full our dry shallows.
We seep slowly, tepid light green extends:
Chrysalis - a song awaits in verdant shoots.

Winter Poem

On Loving Winter, and Walking to Work at Dawn

This morning, the cold is piercing to the senses
like a swirl of sage smoke.
Pungent, but also purifying.
My heavy boots don't feel so-
as I walk quickly through the squeaking snow.
Past the Sycamore,
brown leaves hanging like tattered prayer flags.

At the river,
the sun rests in the crook
of a Birch, looking more delicious
than ever
and pouring its blissful juice
upon the Land.

Maybe in life it's better not to try and rid ourselves of what we don't want,
But embrace what we do -
the passion, the stillness, the peace
the orange-red light bathing the neighboorhood
that I ran out of the house for,
to make sure I did not miss it.


Nuannaarpoq is an Inuit word which means "the inordinate joy of simply being alive".