This morning was dusty, with pollen in every sunbeam. New, pale, lime green leaves were vibrating, not just with the breeze, but with birds doing aerobics in the branches. A goldfinch shook its wings out against a cluster of oak buds, revealing its camouflage. The cherry tree that I believed would hardly blossom this spring exhaled and dropped a shower of pale petals that brushed my arm before they settled onto the new grass rising in emerald spires. In those ten seconds, all the activity before my eyes mirrored earthquakes, volcanoes, cries for life and loss, tides and floods: one living organism we limit by saying "I." Why believe that we can ever be in solitude, unless "alone" refers to the moment we realize that all are ONE with everything that happens in this moment? Suns rise dense with pollen, trees vibrating from finches shaking out wings it dusted, camouflaged in the bright green of unformed leaves, setting off sneezes of children bounded by headphones, with no plan for any step but the dub of their earbud. Seed stuff covers me as ash pours from volcanoes in Puebla, Vanuatu, Italy, Tanzania, Guatemala, Kamchatka, Hawaii: shaken from the rim of fire collapsing homes and breaking hearts from Fukumoto to Ecuador, flooding Houston, covering the Rockies with snow. Breathe. Robins are pulling life from the leaves that fell a moment ago, in September. Look. Blossoms drift across a sunbeam, pale pinks fade to white on emerald grass. Listen. Caw trill, coo, chirp-- remind dinosaurs to fuel my commute from this instant. Alone in nature? Sol, I, too, die and Live with You and you. One Earth. One Life. One Now. DonnaMarie Fekete, 19 April 2016
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The sun didn't rise this morning. The neighborhood went from night to gunmetal to nickel. The sky bordered on dull platinum as I drove across the river toward home. As the wipers pushed the showers from the windshield, my awareness centered on the stitch in my side, the crease under my right shoulder blade, the dull knob of resistance in my left elbow. I wondered what this meant to my overall health, deeper inside my body, with its inventory of missing and compromised organs. At that moment, a great blue heron stretched and flew across the bridge just above me. Time slowed to the width of its wings and the length of its legs. My mind rose to watch it follow the river and curve away. I breathed its blessing of long life, strength, and power, and instantly moved into multiple dimensions: I crashed into the truck before me; I reversed to the instant heron entered my line of sight; I was an insect riding the back of the bird; I moved through penetrable cells of asphalt, vinyl, metal, glass. I exhaled. The moment carried me into the intersection, solid, with *no wonder* that those feelings of dis-ease were gone. *Did you wonder if something ordinary can be wonder-filled? Of course it is! Finest Hour Peer Support and Coaching honors shifts from challenge to change. Your *Insights*Decisions*Energy*Actions*Spirit are keys to transcending and transforming opportunities. NOW is your Finest Hour! How will we share it? Have you encountered folks who seem to be intent on bashing your hopes and dreams? I admit, there are times when I begin to listen to their words of doom and gloom. If I shift my attention, they begin to sound like an anvil chorus: "BANG! DON'T HOPE for MORE or ANYTHING than HEARTACHE!" Funny though, once I began singing along with that tune, it made me laugh! How can anyone HOPE for heartache? Our hearts are keyed into joy, for love, for light, for more of all that shines in the dark and brightens the day. When I remember that, their next CLANG! strikes Sparks and SPLITS that bit of hope into *Star Seeds* that spin off into souls who are open and ready to grow more hope! Hope has enemies. They worry, work, and hammer hard to undermine Hope. They pound their message, clanging, banging, knowing Hope can be hidden, dismissed and denied. Hope’s allies are noisy, chanting their truth~ Hope always returns when invited. Hope regenerates. If someone manages to shatter Hope, it sparks and scatters away from attackers. Hope’s remnants fly and multiply for ALL who welcome it home in their hearts. DonnaMarie Fekete, 30 March 2016 WEDNESDAY is HOPE DAY in the Finest Hour Community on Facebook. Visit us anytime for reflections on transformation and transcendence! |
AuthorI've been paid to sing, act, paint, teach and write. What I do most to express myself is write. I've self-published four books: poems, essays, stories, and prayers. Archives
December 2016
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NOW is our Finest Hour! | I*D*E*A*S* |