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                                                            Our Deepest Fear, Marianne Williamson 07/29/2011
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                                                            "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate,
                                                            Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure,
                                                            It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us,
                                                            We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?
                                                            Actually, who are you NOT to be?
                                                            You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
                                                            There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
                                                            We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
                                                            It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
                                                            And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
                                                            As we are liberated from our own fear; our presence automatically liberates others."
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                                                            "Sacred Journey," Cheryl Thiele 07/29/2011
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                                                            Let us celebrate
                                                            The Sacred Journey,
                                                            As we discover
                                                            Wisdom through forgiveness,
                                                            Bravery through perseverance,
                                                            Fortitude through discipline,
                                                            And generosity through compassion.
                                                            Let us celebrate
                                                            The Sacred Journey,
                                                            As we walk our words with
                                                            Integrity, accountability,
                                                            Respect, and gratitude.
                                                            Let us celebrate
                                                            The Sacred Journey,
                                                            For we are focused
                                                            On our heart’s true path of service.
                                                            Our Sacred Journey
                                                            Is honored with
                                                            Joy and humility
                                                            As we live the legacy,
                                                            Knowing our choices affect
                                                            The next seven generations
                                                            And ALL Our Relations.

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                                                            The Peace of Wild Things, by Wendell Berry 07/28/2011
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                                                            The Peace of Wild Things
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                                                            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.

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                                                            "Lake and Maple" Jane Hirshfield 07/25/2011
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                                                            I want to give myself
                                                            utterly
                                                            as this maple
                                                            that burned and burned
                                                            for three days without stinting
                                                            and then in two more
                                                            dropped off every leaf;
                                                            as this lake that,
                                                            no matter what comes
                                                            to its green-blue depths,
                                                            both takes and returns it.
                                                            In the still heart,
                                                            that refuses nothing,
                                                            the world is twice-born--
                                                            two earths wheeling,
                                                            two heavens,
                                                            two egrets reaching
                                                            down into subtraction;
                                                            even the fish
                                                            for an instant doubled,
                                                            before it is gone.
                                                            I want the fish.
                                                            I want the losing it all
                                                            when it rains and I want
                                                            the returning transparence.
                                                            I want the place
                                                            by the edge-flowers where
                                                            the shallow sand is deceptive,
                                                            where whatever
                                                            steps in must plunge,
                                                            and I want that plunging.
                                                            I want the ones
                                                            who come in secret to drink
                                                            only in early darkness,
                                                            and I want the ones
                                                            who are swallowed.
                                                            I want the way
                                                            the water sees without eyes,
                                                            hears without ears,
                                                            shivers without will or fear
                                                            at the gentlest touch.
                                                            I want the way it
                                                            accepts the cold moonlight
                                                            and lets it pass,
                                                            the way it lets
                                                            all of it pass
                                                            without judgment or comment.
                                                            There is a lake,
                                                            Lalla Ded sand, no larger
                                                            than on seed of mustard,
                                                            that all things return to.
                                                            O heart, if you
                                                            will not, cannot, give me the lake
                                                            then give me the song.
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                                                            "I will not die an unlived life" Dawna Markova 07/25/2011
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                                                            I will not die an unlived life.

                                                            I will not live in fear

                                                            of falling or catching fire.

                                                            I choose to inhabit my days,

                                                            to allow my living to open me,

                                                            to make me less afraid,

                                                            more accessible;

                                                            to loosen my heart

                                                            until it becomes a wing,

                                                            a torch, a promise.

                                                            I choose to risk my significance,

                                                            to love so that which came to me as seed

                                                            goes to the next as blossom,

                                                            and that which came to me as blossom,

                                                            goes on as fruit.
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                                                              Favorite Musings

                                                              This is a collection of our favorite writings.  We are so grateful to these inspired souls and so happy to have this medium in which we can share!

                                                              Archives

                                                              July 2011

                                                              Categories

                                                              All
                                                              Courage
                                                              Faith
                                                              Fearless
                                                              Freedom
                                                              God
                                                              Grace
                                                              Heart
                                                              Inner Strength
                                                              Inspiration
                                                              Journey
                                                              Light
                                                              Meditation
                                                              Passion
                                                              Path
                                                              Peace
                                                              Philosophy
                                                              Power
                                                              Quiet
                                                              Sacred
                                                              Service
                                                              Surrender
                                                              Trust

                                                              Various Writers & Authors In Our Collection

                                                              Some of our favorites are (no particular order):
                                                              Rumi
                                                              Soren Kierkegaard
                                                              Michael Borg
                                                              William Shakespeare
                                                              Mark Twain
                                                              Ralph Waldo Emerson
                                                              Elizabeth Barrett Browning
                                                              Joseph Campbell
                                                              David Hume
                                                              Emmanuel Kant
                                                              H. Emilie Cady
                                                              TS Elliot
                                                              Edgar Allen Poe
                                                              Calvin & Hobbs
                                                              Mary Oliver


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