It’s not how much you get
Nor how much you give.
A more important question begs an answer:
During all your endeavors, did you ever really live?
Working hard for wealth,
Recognition, or simply trying to be,
You paid a heavy price in time, stress, and aging
Because nothing comes for free.
We all work and struggle for our children,
Hoping they’ll accomplish more than we.
We want them to have a better life than us,
Yet nothing is for free.
Life teaches hard lessons.
Can knock you to your knees.
Never giving in but getting up
Is but one of a successful life’s keys.
We were put here for a purpose.
Many may not understand.
To do our best during our test,
Maybe lend a helping hand.
Some are doctors, lawyers, brokers,
Paupers or kings wearing a crown.
Others were musicians, writers,
Or poets of renown.
It was given to you freely.
It’s therefore yours to decide,
But one last thought I’ll venture
If you will abide.
You’ve worked so hard for others,
Please don’t die with your music still inside.
Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know that I Am God.”
Do you know what silence sounds like?
Did you know that music is a series of sounds separated by silence?
In this busy world, it is almost impossible to hear the sound of silence.
However, I treasure it above all else.
Imagine a magical, serene time totally void of any sound on your ears.
One’s mind completely relaxes, and one can visualize waves breaking on a distant, sandy shore – without sound.
From deep within our mind, a new, pure thought emerges in this blessed silence.
It would have never arrived in its present form because of the noise, clutter, give and take of everyday life. Instead, it would have arrived all covered in bandages from injuries caused by the extraneous, outside world. It would be confused, lacking clarity, and without peace.
The idea is to intentionally become more aware of the Sound of Silence.
God bless your journey!
Posted in This and That
Tags: aware, Be Still, bless, clarity, confused, God, idea, journey, Knowledge, Life, metaphysical, music, New Age, New Thought, peaceful serenity, relaxes, Religion and Spirituality, serene, Silence, sound of silence, spirituality, time, treasure, Truth, Understanding, wisdom
Man is sometimes a restless creature.
It is but one of his many features.
Wanting what he can’t have to fulfill a desire,
Sometimes he’ll struggle until he expires.
With a bank account full, he’ll strain for still more,
Worrying about investments as he paces the floor.
He won’t give up, and he sure won’t quit.
He certainly will not enjoy his wealth one little bit!
Cemeteries fill up, stopping these desires and suspense.
So many dying, they’ve had to build a fence.
Someone else will spend that wealth that he worked so hard to get,
But from where he now lies, he can have no regret.
You’ve asked me to speak to you concerning Love. In all humility, how could I even dare to attempt to explain the mystery of this heaven-sent feeling?
Have not better scholars and brilliant poets undertaken this task sufficiently?
Understanding Love and trying to give one a clear, easy definition is a thing which troubles the imagination in its description for many times words stumble in the effort, leaving much to be desired. Still, Love deserves this effort!
This wonderful feeling plucks our heart strings like the skillful fingers of a master harp player. The musical notes rise upward from heart to soul, heard by the one experiencing the feelings and surely by the Angels of Heaven. Such is my poor attempt to explain Love.
To those who have never experienced Love, no explanation will suffice. To those who have, any explanation simply brings forth a knowing smile.
When Love is present, life has full meaning and wonderment. Without Love, life is a vacuum and void.
Be vigilant, for you might be experiencing it without really understanding what it is, perhaps crushing it like the petals of a rose during its development.
There are different kinds of Love: such as parental and platonic Love or the Love of animals, art, music, or our Creator. Do not confuse one for the other as you live your life. Do not expect a guarantee in the Feelings Department, for there are none. Such is Love.
Ponce de Leon searched for the Fountain of Youth in vain, but you and I can find it easily. Just attend a Yoga or Tai Chi class or get on a treadmill or elliptical machine – you have found it!
In every instance, let your conscience be your guide,
but always let your higher common sense dictate action!
Have you ever felt so low that you could sit on a cigarette paper and dangle your legs? You feel so low that you’ve sunk to the very lowest depth of depression. Why, you would have to look down to see up.
Nothing is right. The sky is not blue enough, and the sun is hung upside down. Food tastes bad, and music is just noise. You have left the blues far above you and reached a new low.
Talking only irritates you during your descent into oblivion and depression. Besides, you wish to wallow alone in your misery. You are the best pessimist ever created. (Everyone knows a pessimist is simply an optimist who thought of it first.)
Suddenly, you awaken, and a smile breaks the planes of your face as a random thought comes to mind. You were actually only half-low because there’s always whale crap, which is on the bottom of the Ocean!
Smile as you journey onward, my friends.
Lying among wild flowers in a high country meadow, my nose is enjoying their fragrant smells mixed with that of spruce and pine trees.
I inhale and exhale deeply for several breaths and then my breathing settles down to normal as I lay quietly, enjoying the smells, warm sun on my face, and bird sounds.
My consciousness is aware of the quiet calmness, absent any noise of everyday commerce such as traffic, horns, sirens, trucks, etc.
My head is turned sideways, and a slight but tiny movement catches the corner of my eye. My eyes focus and closer examination reveals a beautiful red-and-black dotted small rounded body moving along a narrow leaf towards the stem of a large wildflower. It is a little ladybug moving along with determination. As I focus closer, I see little white specks on the flower stem, and some of them are moving slowly. Now I could see and understand the destination of this little bug. She is going to dine on her favorite prey. I turned my head back and looked at the robin’s egg-blue sky for a few minutes. Then I closed my eyes.
All was well and in harmony. Everything in my world that should be balanced was indeed balanced. All the equal and opposites were equally blended. At this point in time, all was beautiful and perfect in my world: No fuss, no hurry, no cares, and of course, no worry.
Since everything is perfect and good in my world, there is nothing left to do except take a nice nap.
Happy and safe travels on your journey!
He walked among us over rocky pathways
Many long years ago.
The message He brought was the one He taught
To free us and let us know.
Numbered among transgressors,
Beaten and scorned with shame.
He shouldered false accusations bravely
And never placed the blame.
Not happy with His suffering,
They sentenced Him to death.
They nailed Him to a cross
To draw His last earthly breath.
He was buried in a sepulcher
Which was hewn in stone.
Women prepared His body for eternal rest
And left Him all alone.
Just as the prophecy had foretold,
The stone was rolled aside:
Three days later, our Savior arose
To ascend and forever to abide.
The ultimate sacrifice for our sins –
A price we could not pay –
Was paid in full by our Savior.
Each year, we celebrate this act on each Easter Day.
Happy Easter, Everyone!
W. Foster Welborn
Born of the people,
Learning to live off the land.
As a boy, he learned a warrior’s ways
And grew to be a man.
Strong Bow hunted Tatanka, the buffalo,
With both bow and lance.
He guided his horse among the headlong rush,
Killing meat to feed the people when he got a chance.
He had wooed and won a pretty maiden’s hand,
Who became his wife.
They lived and loved while moving freely on the land,
Following a nomad’s life.
He danced with fellow warriors,
Circling the fire around.
War drums beat the rhythm,
And many moccasined feet beat tattoos on the ground.
That was when he was young and powerful,
A mighty warrior to behold.
He was fast and furious back then, many moons ago.
Now he was gray and old.
Strong Bow sat on his aging war horse atop a hill.
His shoulders slumped forward with his head hung down.
Cold winds blew around him,
Making the only sound.
The old warrior’s face smiled lamely.
It was a good day to die,
And soon his spirit would depart,
Taking wings to fly.
Cold wind knifed through his buckskins
Into his old body both weak and frail.
Strong Bow closed his eyes and softly sang his death song,
Having reached the end of his trail.
(Note: The above poem is a result of my thoughts that were evoked by this artwork.)