OUR WHOLE LIFE COULD BE A RITUAL
“We could learn to stop when the sun goes down and when the sun comes up. We could learn to listen to the wind; we could learn to notice that it’s raining or snowing or hailing or calm. We could reconnect with the weather that is ourselves, and we could realize that it’s sad. The sadder it is, and the vaster it is, the more our heart opens. We can stop thinking that good practice is when it’s smooth and calm, and bad practice is when it’s rough and dark. If we can hold it all in our hearts, then we can make a proper cup of tea.”
(Wisdom of No Escape) – Pema Chodron
This is a continuing series from my new workbook . . . If you contact me, I will send you a pdf file of the whole thingajig! As an Art Therapist, I see so many clients searching for meaning in their lives. My hope is that this workbook will help others in that search.
From TUT’s daily emails:
If you knew of a spectacular mountain that was very, very tall, yet climbable. And if it was well established that from its peak, you could literally see all the love that bathes the world, dance with the angels, and party with the gods. Would you curse or celebrate each step you took as you ascended it?
Mary, life is that mountain and each day a step.
Perspectives change everything,
[I don’t always read my TUT emails any more – but this one is a fresh drink of nice cold mountain water!]
A REMINDER: THESE “PASSION” PAGES ARE FROM MY NEW WORKBOOK. YOU CAN DOWNLOAD THEM TO USE THEM, OR I CAN EMAIL YOU A PDF COPY. THIS WORKBOOK IS JUST SOMETHING I WANTED TO MAKE AND I OFFER IT TO ANYONE WHO WANTS IT. THERE’S BEEN SOME CONFUSION – SORRY.
Having just died — car crash — I climbed, dead, back into bed. Tried not to jiggle the mattress but you woke up and asked Are you okay? which made me cry.
Down I went, drowned this time. It wasn’t so bad. Here’s what I heard as I sunk to the bottom: You now that artist guy on TV? Says the Bravery Test is when you add a central object to a painting when it’s almost done. Like a sailboat on a perfectly nice lake.
Plane crash, beheaded. You said, Oh, you’ve lost your
body. You leaned over and carried my head to a pillow and rocked it with a lullaby while waiting for the rest of me. When I was stitched back together you wrapped me in your mainsail and kissed me goodnight.