Hearwithheart
practice
often closes with poetry. On many occasions, I am asked to share its origin. Who wrote that? Where can I find that beautiful piece? Such shared readings can oftentimes add a layer of depth and mindfulness to complement our physical and peaceful practice. Words and can invite us to connect with our emotions and thoughts and when our yoga practice ends, we leave with reflection and introspections. Here are just a few hearwithheart community favourites.
Beannacht
On the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders
and you stumble, may the clay dance to balance you.
And when your eyes freeze behind the grey window
and the ghost of loss gets into you, may a flock of colours, indigo, red, green, and azure blue, come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays in the currach of thought and a stain of ocean blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters a path of yellow moonlight to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow wind work these words of love around you, an invisible cloak to mind your life.
-John O’Donohue (1956-2008)
"let come what comes,
let go what goes.
See what remains."
-Ramana Maharshi
Surrender to the postures; the difficult ones reflect life's struggles, the sweet ones our joy.
Surrender to the outcome of your actions; they are not in your control, each day, each practice, just do your best.
Surrender to the actions of the universe; the marvel of nature, the things you never saw coming.
Surrender to your present difficulties; the pain and the losses, especially to the things you tried so hard
to control but couldn't.
Surrender to the definition of yourself; your judgements they are just your way of limiting who you are.
Have a deep, unwavering trust that right now,
you are where you are meant to be.
Feel the universe working beautiful magic through you.
-Gabrielle Harris
May you be safe.
May you be happy.
May you be healthy.
May you live a life of ease.
You yourself,
as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve, your love
and affection.
-Buddha
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night
at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water,
and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things who
do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world,
and am free.
- Wendell Berry
Keeping Quiet
Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second, and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment without rush,
without engines;
we would all be together in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt would look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars, wars with gas, wars with fire, victories with no survivors, would put on clean clothes and walk about with their brothers in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about...
If we were not so single-minded about keeping our lives moving,and for once could do nothing, perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness of never understanding ourselves and of threatening ourselves with death.
Now I’ll count up to twelve and you keep quiet and I will go.
-Pablo Neruda
The guest
house
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
- Mewlana Jaladdin Rumi
Eagle
To pray you open your whole self to sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
to one whole voice that is you. And know there is more that you can’t see, can’t hear; can’t know except in moments steadily growing, and in languages that aren’t always sound but other circles of motion. Like eagle that Sunday morning over Salt River. Circled in blue sky
in wind, swept our hearts clean with sacred wings. We see you, see ourselves and know that we must take the utmost care and kindness in all things. Breathe in, knowing we are made of all this, and breathe, knowing we are truly blessed because we were born, and die soon within a true circle of motion, like eagle rounding out the morning inside us. We pray that it will be done
in beauty.
In beauty.
-Joy Harjo
REST IN EVERY STEP
Have patience. Slow down.
The gap between 'Where I am' and 'Where I want to be' is full of possibility.
So don't rush through it. Take time.
Find the dignity in slowness.
Learn to love the gap.
Grace it with your presence.
It is bursting with life, and creativity,
and it holds unexpected treasures.
Have patience. Slow down.
Life is only Now.
In Presence, there are no gaps.
Find rest in every step.
- Jeff Foster
The Pendulum Swings
Have patience. The pendulum that swung too far in one
direction will swing back. At the moment of its turning, everything hangs in the balance. All the momentum of past actions is suspended in mid-air, and those who care about what happens next are poised with it.
There is a long and anxious pause before the motion shifts, and then a sense of free fall, when the world is turned on its head and nothing is known or normal.
Have patience then, and do not rush to either extreme.
The way will paint its own arrows on the trees
if you can wait for clarity.
-Danna Faulds
The Summer Day
Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws paringly, as if she knew how to savor it,
the one who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face. Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
-Mary Oliver
