My friend Toke (shown above in Rorvig, Denmark 2023 — me, Peter Engberg, Toke) recently prosed a few clarities on life, on living. On stewarding, with simplicity. Words that move my heart. Perhaps yours too. I love the sense of essence.
A Path of Stewarding Toke Moeller
Love is not a destination.
It is a practice of returning to Life itself
To the land without possession.
To relationship without grasping.
To conflict without becoming the conflict.
A steward walks gently— holding what wishes to grow, releasing what wishes to end,
trusting that each honest step makes a path for those who follow.
Perhaps this is enough: to practice peace, and let love do its quiet work.
Doing simply what needs to be done Each moment without hesitation.
Several tidbits of inspirations have come my way over the last few days. Tidbits that would be well-served by some extended dwelling time.
I’ll mix some of the tidbits together here. All, for inspiration. Perhaps a spark. A memory. An association. Perhaps some medicine.
My friend Janice Rous writes of trying “softer rather than trying harder.” Janice turned 76 earlier this week. She inspires me with her playfully serious heart and with her wisdom. Janice quotes the poet Andrea Gibson, “I know most people try hard to do good and find out too late they should have tried softer.”
A recent participant in Wanderful Excursion sent me this poem by William Carlos Williams. It fit to the theme of our Excursion. And I loved that she offered it in the spirit of an appreciation, like she’d left me a bag of plums.
This Is Just To Say I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast. Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold.
And then there’s this Rumi quote, picked up through the randomness of an email inbox. I appreciate the reminder, again, that love is a state inner and outer. With self and with others.
Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.
And then this portion of today’s Tuesday pot pourri insights. It’s the poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer. The Word Woman writing about clarity and settling in a river and in a human soul.
The Clearing Already the river is lighter in color, less brown, less turbid, more translucent. Just yesterday the currents were thick with mud and logs, needles and sticks and bits of once-living debris. Now that the furious flood has lost its force, the gravel and sand have begun their settling. Whatever was floating now rests on the banks and all that is left suspended in the water is what is most fine. Soon, even that will sink and the water will be clear again. I, too, have felt the gift of slowing, how it invites a sedimentation of all I try to carry—the silt of my stories, the muck of the world. Like a river, the more calm I am, the more clear I can become. No magic, just a matter of physics. How natural it is, the clearing.
I love it when the butterflies land on me. When I’m not chasing. But rather, watching them land. Perhaps you do to.
When I was a young teen, my Grandma sat me down to give me a piece of advice. That was Lena, my father’s mother. She was a teacher of my heart, though I didn’t come to know that until another six or so years passed.
I was a teen. A bit out of touch. A bit fumbly, as young teens often are. A bit vacant. I was a kid who cared most about baseball then. And my friends. I think Grandma wanted to steer me into a more thoughtful way of being. She saw some capability in me. Or perhaps just loved me, and did what she did — pointed to a more conscious way to live.
I’m glad.
Grandma drew this diagram for me on a piece of paper. She had flip charts and markers in her home — so I guess I come by that naturally. And then started to explain. “When you are a teenager, like yourself, Grandson, you see yourself as this big circle on the left and you see the rest of the world as this small dot on the right.” She was likely calling out a young and immature quality in me. A self-centeredness.
She continued, drawing a second diagram. “As you grow and learn, you begin to see yourself like this diagram. You become the small dot on the left. And you begin to recognize that the world is the bigger circle on the right. You begin to pay attention to what is going on in the world. You begin to feel its wonder.”
Again, that’s a Grandma that I think showed some guts, some clarity, and some truth-telling. She wasn’t snarky. She wasn’t shaming. I remember feeling that she was speaking with sincerity. And that meant something to me — kinda planted a seed in me that would have me returning to her many times in my young and mid adult life.
Now, I’m now aware that there is nuance to this particular conversation. For some of us, it is significant work and journey to claim our big selves (not make ourselves small). Some of us need to step into our bigness. All of that. I think Grandma was clear on that also, but likely wise enough to know the limit of what I could hear, then.
Well, now, 50 or so years later, I offer this nod to my Grandma. And, bring just one more layer of nuance to those diagrams she drew so long ago.
I’ve added the blue spiral on top of my Grandma’s diagrams. It symbolizes what I’ve come to recognize as a life force moving through us. And through circumstance. And moving with us. It symbolizes an organizing pattern that sometimes calls for brave individuality, in connection with all the other things going on. Or sometimes, an organizing pattern that calls us to a brave communality, an extreme relationality together. Life moves through us. With us. Among us. From those seeds Gma planted in me, a garden remains growing in me. And I’m glad to say that I’ve been able to plant a few seeds in others too.
Grandma gave some good advice. That’s her below, on the left as a 34 year old. On the right, a little later in her life. She passed in 2008, at 89.
“Sooner or later, if you are on any classic “spiritual schedule,” some event, person, death, idea, or relationship will enter your life that you simply cannot deal with, using your present skill set, your acquired knowledge, or your strong willpower.”
He goes on, in a paragraph that had me grabbing a cup of coffee, slowing down, and sipping.
“Spiritually speaking, you will be, you must be, led to the edge of your own private resources. At that point you will stumble over a necessary stumbling stone, as Isaiah calls it; or to state it in our language here, you will and you must “lose” at something.”
And he positions further, perhaps from first-hand knowing, and perhaps from many-times witnessing.
“This is the only way that Life-Fate-God-Grace-Mystery can get you to change, let go of your egocentric preoccupations, and go on the further and larger journey. I wish I could say this was not true, but it is darn near absolute in the spiritual literature of the world.”
I’ve lived a few times within awakening moments, dark nights of the soul, bright lights of the birth. I’ve lived with many wisdom keepers, skilled to see and guide initiations. I’ve learned through many moments, to live from my belly. Surrendering. Again. Glimpsing insight from something beyond me. Again. Bathing in renewal as life has flowed through and around me. Again.
I don’t find that this ends. Life is kind with its “agains.” It has different flavors. Familiar reminders. Generous invitations. And both joyous and reluctant responses to life beyond my skill set, approachable only with an honest belly.
On it goes.
A thx to Richard Rohr today.
Gifts of Circle
asd Gifts of Circle is 30 short essays divided into 4 sections: 1) Circle's Bigger Purpose, 2) Circle's Practice, 3) Circle's First Requirements, and 4) Circle's Possibility for Men. From the Introduction: "Circle is what I turn to in the most comprehensive stories I know -- the stories of human beings trying to be kind and aware together, trying to make a difference in varied causes for which we need to go well together. Circle is also what I turn to in the most immediate needs that live right in front of me and in front of most of us -- sharing dreams and difficulties, exploring conflicts and coherences. Circle is what I turn to. Circle is what turns us to each other."
Question Cards is an accompanying tool to Gifts of Circle. Each card (34) offers a quote from the corresponding chapter in the book, followed by sample questions to grow your Circle hosting skills and to create connection, courage, and compassionate action among groups you host in Circle.
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In My Nature
asd
In My Nature is a collection of 10 poems. From A Note of Beginning: "This collection of poems arises from the many conversations I've been having about nature. Nature as guide. Nature as wild. Nature as organized. I remain a human being that so appreciates a curious nature in people. That so appreciates questions that pick fruit from inner being, that gather insights and intuitions to a basket, and then brings the to table to be enjoyed and shared over the next week."
This set of Note Cards (8 cards + envelopes) quotes a few favorite passages from poems in In My Nature. I offer them as inspiration. And leave room for you to write personal notes.
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Most Mornings + Note Cards
asd Most Mornings is a collection of 37 poems. I loved writing them. From the introduction: "This collection of poems comes from some of my sense-making that so often happens in the morning, nurtured by overnight sleep. The poems sample practices. They sample learnings. They sample insights and discoveries. They sample dilemmas and concerns."
This set of Note Cards (8 cards + envelopes) quotes a few favorite passages from poems in Most Mornings. I offer them as inspiration. And leave room for you to write personal notes.
