Put a little faith in your life

Faith

These words we share
Are food for the Soul
Nourishing the Spirit
Invoking peace.
These prayers we share
Are the sweetest nectar
Prized by the hummingbird
Instilling grace.
This faith we share
Is Infinite in its beauty
Endless in its humility
Quenching our thirst
For a return to Source.
For our faith is primeval
Transcending physical boundaries
Our belief is immortal
Like our Souls
Swathed in a cocoon of humanity
Till Ascension beckons
In a concerto of bliss.

Take control of the senses

Our senses allow all the stimuli of the world to enter our body-mind, causing havoc and disruption to mental and physical serenity.  Just think of all the sensory agitation you experience from a roller-coaster ride or an all-you-can-eat buffet!  Yes, it can be really exciting at the time but as soon as it’s over, you crash back down to “boring normality”.   Trying to control the senses is like keeping a very firm rein on the five horses in the picture.    This week I pledge to control my sense of Taste:  I have a craving for sweet foods, despite knowing that their pleasure is very short-lived and ultimately disruptive.

This week I will nourish my body-mind with healthy food!

 

Winding Roads

We’re back from our Summer holiday, and I was reminded of a short break earlier this year.  This poem was written as we drove to Argyll in the west of Scotland on holiday. The scenery was spectacular. It was a Spring afternoon in April. Our journey had been prolonged by road diversions and we were weary to arrive at our destination. I know we all complain about the weather in the UK, but I do welcome the abundance of rain which is bestowed upon us in Scotland as it transforms our landscape into a vibrant painting of lush colours bursting with life and energy.  I think there’s a Scandinavian saying which goes along the lines of: “There is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing!”  Enjoy the poem.

Winding Roads

Winding roads and lumpy hills
Lined by crowds of daffodils
Cheering on the weary traveller
“Not long now!” they cry.
Snow-crested mountains
Stand strong and serene
A majestic backdrop to this wonderful scene:
Ochre heather and grey-coloured scree
Trees clinging on at odd degrees
Ancient rocks clad in moss against the cold
Respite for travellers in days of old
We are intruders in this landscape
Yet it seems a part of me –
Our shared heritage and history.
But this land belongs to all, not some.
Softly winding roads leading us home.

Hush, Child

Hush, Child

This is boring.  You’re not doing anything.  Just sitting there.

Hush, Child.  I’m meditating.

Let’s think about the film last night.  That was exciting, wasn’t it?

Hush, Child and be in the present.

I’ve got an itch I need to scratch, a tense muscle I have to rub.

So do it, then come back to me.  Surrender, Child,

and let the peace envelop you like a mother’s embrace.

It does feel kinda nice.

That’s it.  Hush now. 

What are we doing later?

Hush, Child.  There is no later.  Simply now.

Now?

Yes, simply and blissfully now.  So hush, Child yet know that you are loved.

* * *

In this poem, I have cast the Egoic Mind (that part of us which likes to be in complete control at all times) as an insistent child repeatedly vying for our attention.

Be gentle with your Ego for it is part of you, yet be firm in your intention to meditate undisturbed by its thoughts of the past or the future.