Graffiti Poem from the back of the bathroom door in Vesuvios, next door to the City Lights bookstore in North Beach:
Author Archive for Amy Lenzo – Page 37
Communing with the big trees in Muir Woods this weekend, I couldn’t help but notice this little girl.
She was in a stroller being rolled along the path by her mother and suddenly she began to kick up a fuss. Crying inconsolably, she was urgently gesturing backwards, pointing to a spot in the creek that lie just on the other side of the railing. Her mother seemed to understand, stopped and backed up.
Immediately the child quit crying, staring mesmerized at a little water eddy in the fast-running brook that followed the path, reaching out her hand as if to touch it. She sat motionless for several minutes, looking intently at the scene in front of her.
When she was satiated and they continued walking I went up to her mother to ask if she often had that kind of a reaction. Her mother said yes, she did, absolutely. Ever since she was tiny she was crazy about being in nature. I asked if I could photograph her, and her mother agreed. Her name was Caitlin, I learned; “Her father is Irish”.
As they disappeared away down the path beyond me, I could see at least one reason Caitlin loved nature. Her mother and grandfather were talking softly to her and each other about what they were seeing and experiencing; thumping the expanse of huge stumps so she could hear the sound of the wood, bending down to pick up leaves for her to touch and taste and see. One could almost see the "Love of Life & Nature" transmission pass between them.
Another powerful Thought Leader Gathering session from Heartland Circle …
This July’s conversation starter (and regular TLG member) Betsy Saunders led us in an exercise using the symbolism of a monk’s begging bowl as a channel that receives contributions from the world and demands only that the gift be accepted as precisely "enough" for each day’s needs.
In the first part of the exercise we were to gather in small groups and
answer the question "What is my gift to the world?", write down our
answers, and put them in one of the beautiful brass begging bowls Betsy
had brought for this purpose.
I thought about my work and my joy, and an answer came to me: "My gift is in making your voice visible and audible in the world". I wrote it down and put it in the bowl along with the others.
In the second part of the exercise we were asked to join a new small group, and this time see what the bowl of life would offer for us. When my turn came, the slip of paper I pulled said "My gift is to share my voice with the world." Wow. What synchronicity.
This coincidence would seem unusual enough by itself, but everyone in my small group had something similar going on with their own picks, a phenomenon that was mirrored in the large group when we gathered later that morning to share what had happened.
It seemed that we each picked what we most needed, and in my case the gift was to receive for myself what I so enjoy giving to others. 🙂
Love is the religion in me.
Whichever way love’s camel goes,
That way becomes my faith,
The source of beauty, and a light
Of sacredness over every thing.
~Ibn Arabi~ Sufi mystic, poet, and spiritual teacher
(see the next page for the full text of this poem)
The Love Religion
The inner space inside
That we call the heart
Has become many different
Living scenes and stories.
A pasture for sleek gazelles,
A monastery for Christian monks,
A temple with Shiva dancing,
A kaaba for pilgrimage
The tablets of Moses are there,
The Qur’an, the Vedas,
The sutras, and the gospels,
Love is the religion in me.
Whichever way love’s camel goes,
That way becomes my faith,
The source of beauty, and a light
Of sacredness over every thing.
~Ibn Arabi~ Sufi mystic, poet, and spiritual teacher
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