Site Meter ANCORA IMPARO
I believe in simplicity. I believe in feelings and family, friendship and fidelity, forgiveness and fortitude. I believe in miracles, meditation, motherhood and make believe and that music is the only real magic this world has ever seen. I believe in concocting and consuming colorful cocktails and fussing over and feasting on fabulous food. I believe in living out loud. I believe in laughing until your face hurts and loving until your heart breaks. I believe in behaving boldly and when warranted, badly, taking bubble baths and being barefoot. I believe in poetry, puppies and playing in the park. I believe in seeking without ceasing that which sings to my soul and strengthens my spirit. I believe in dancing in the rain and digging in the dirt. I believe in honest expression and the golden rule. I believe in Nature and naps and that naïveté is sometimes necessary. I believe in goodness and gratitude, grit and grace. I believe in unity and the power of the universe. I believe in being authentically awesome. I believe in being better today than yesterday but not as good as tomorrow. I believe in challenges and change and growing pains. I believe in the inherent worth of every creature, being and life force on this planet. I believe in honoring the individual journeys and paths of people whether I understand them or not. I believe in letting people live their truth and trusting that it’s right for them. I believe in lifting up and letting go. I believe that death is just as sacred an experience as birth and that it is never, ever an end.

Mostly, I just believe that I’m never going to stop learning what it is I believe.


Read the Printed Word!



Andrea Gibson performing “Photograph”

"Litany" by Billy Collins

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general’s head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman’s tea cup.
But don’t worry, I’m not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and—somehow—the wine.

"Stream of Life" from Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

"Now is the Time" by Hafiz

Now is the time to know

That all that you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider

A lasting truce with yourself and God?

Now is the time to understand

That all your ideas of right and wrong

Were just a child’s training wheels

To be laid aside

When you can finally live

with veracity and love.

Now is the time for the world to know

That every thought and action is sacred.

That this is the time

For you to compute the impossibility

That there is anything

But Grace.

Now is the season to know

That everything you do

Is Sacred

"Love After Love" by Derek Walcott

The time will come, when with elation,

 you will greet yourself arriving

 at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome

and say, sit here.  Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

 Give wine.  Give bread.  Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you.

all your life, whom you have ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

 peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit.  Feast on your life.

"The Guest-House" by Rumi


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.

"Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting 
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Why A Neuroscientist Would Study Meditation

plasticorc:

My amazing mom, protesting the Georgia republicans’ refusal to take federal healthcare funds. Blocking a hallway gets you arrested; keeping thousands from seeing doctors gets you reelected.
But one day no one’s gonna want to hear their hate anymore. One day, everyone they try to tell “personal responsibility” to is gonna be too busy with two jobs and two kids and two hospital bills to hear just what else they’re supposed to be responsible for. Everyone they tell “no handouts” to is gonna laugh ‘cause they’ve never had one free hand to take with. Everyone they talk about “welfare reform” to is gonna laugh and say “What’s welfare?”
One day they’re gonna say “the Free Market” and we’re all gonna say “Yeah, I bag groceries there, and wait tables there, and mop floors there. But it ain’t free: I can’t even afford one sandwich there!”
One day no one will listen anymore, and that’s when we have to fix our broken, rotten South. One day it won’t just be my mom and 38 other heroes. It won’t just be these hundreds of supporters spending their precious few free hours at the Capitol.
That’s why my mom’s smiling: because she isn’t looking at the Governor’s office, and she isn’t looking at the statehouse. She’s looking at the people. And she knows change is coming.
"One day" is us. I hope I can be as awesome as my mom.
Photos: http://clatl.com/freshloaf/archives/2014/03/18/moral-monday-activists-bring-protest-inside-georgia-senate

LOVE you, LOVE your mom! 
Keep smiling because change IS indeed coming!

plasticorc:

My amazing mom, protesting the Georgia republicans’ refusal to take federal healthcare funds. Blocking a hallway gets you arrested; keeping thousands from seeing doctors gets you reelected.

But one day no one’s gonna want to hear their hate anymore. One day, everyone they try to tell “personal responsibility” to is gonna be too busy with two jobs and two kids and two hospital bills to hear just what else they’re supposed to be responsible for. Everyone they tell “no handouts” to is gonna laugh ‘cause they’ve never had one free hand to take with. Everyone they talk about “welfare reform” to is gonna laugh and say “What’s welfare?”

One day they’re gonna say “the Free Market” and we’re all gonna say “Yeah, I bag groceries there, and wait tables there, and mop floors there. But it ain’t free: I can’t even afford one sandwich there!”

One day no one will listen anymore, and that’s when we have to fix our broken, rotten South. One day it won’t just be my mom and 38 other heroes. It won’t just be these hundreds of supporters spending their precious few free hours at the Capitol.

That’s why my mom’s smiling: because she isn’t looking at the Governor’s office, and she isn’t looking at the statehouse. She’s looking at the people. And she knows change is coming.

"One day" is us. I hope I can be as awesome as my mom.

Photos: http://clatl.com/freshloaf/archives/2014/03/18/moral-monday-activists-bring-protest-inside-georgia-senate

LOVE you, LOVE your mom!

Keep smiling because change IS indeed coming!

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