By John O’Donohue

May the light of your soul guide you.

May the light of your soul bless the work

You do with the secret love and warmth of your heart.

May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.

May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light and renewal to those

Who work with you and to those who see and receive your work.

May your work never weary you.

May it release within you wellsprings of refreshment, inspiration and excitement.

May you be present in what you do.

May you never become lost in the bland absences.

May the day never burden you.

May dawn find you awake and alert, approaching your new day with dreams,

Possibilities and promises.

May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.

May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected.

May your soul calm, console and renew you.

Related posts:

1. Serving The World – From a lecture by Alice Bailey
2. To Be a Slave of Intensity – Kabir

One of the great english metaphysical poets, writing at the height of the elizabethan era.  His poetry can be divided into two periods, those as a younger man that appear to revolve around his life and loves , then those of his later life that reolve around love and death.

Song by John Donne.

Go and catch a falling star,

Get with child a mandrake root,

Tell me where all past years are,

Or who cleft the Devil’s foot,

Teach me to hear mermaids singing,

Or to keep off envy’s stinging,

And find

What wind

Serves to advance an honest mind.If thou be’st born to strange sights,

Things invisible to see,

Ride ten thousand days and nights,

Till age snow white hairs on thee;

Thou, when thou return’st, wilt tell me

All strange wonders that befell thee,

And swear

No where

Lives a woman true, and fair.If thou find’st one, let me know,

Such a pilgrimage were sweet;

Yet do not, I would not go,

Though at next door we might meet:

Though she were true, when you met her,

And last, till you write your letter,

Yet she

Will be

False, ere I come, to two or three.

Related posts:

1. The Diggers Song (The World turned Upside down)

And I follow the path
that I’ve followed before
Watching patterns of sun on the forest floor
Perhaps I turn round
and I beg on my knees
and they place the blindfold
as Im shot by the trees.

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Prisoners held in underground cells

imagine that they see daylight

when they remember the laughter of women

“Alive Together: New and Selected Poems” (Lisel Mueller)

mainly because it reminded me of a woman I know who had the most incredible laugh, one that sounded like the peel of bells and made me see daylight…

The Laughter Of Women

The laughter of women sets fire

to the Halls of Injustice

and the false evidence burns

to a beautiful white lightness

It rattles the Chambers of Congress

and forces the windows wide open

so the fatuous speeches can fly out

The laughter of women wipes the mist

from the spectacles of the old;

it infects them with a happy flu

and they laugh as if they were young again

Prisoners held in underground cells

imagine that they see daylight

when they remember the laughter of women

It runs across water that divides,

and reconciles two unfriendly shores

like flares that signal the news to each other

What a language it is, the laughter of women,

high-flying and subversive.

Long before law and scripture

we heard the laughter, we understood freedom.

Lisel Mueller

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“Charlie Chaplin – The Great Dictator [1940]” (Warner Home Video)

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Listening to the sounds of the 60s on the Radio this morning, I was entranced by the sense of positive and directed energy that appeared in the lyrics, music and artists of this period…we can do so much more with this legacy

These lyrics of the ‘eve of destruction’ by PF sloan encapsulate that era as do many other songs, from the Beatles to The Dave Clark 5…

The Eastern World
It is explodin’
Violence flarin’
Bullets loadin’
You’re old enough to kill
But not for votin’
You don’t believe in war
But what’s that gun you’re totin’
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin’

But you tell me over, and over, and over again my friend
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction

Don’t you understand what I’m tryin’ to say
And can’t you feel the fears I’m feelin’ today
If the button is pushed, there’s no runnin’ away
There’ll be no one to save
With the whole world in a grave
Take a look around you boy,
It’s bound to scare you boy

And you tell me over, and over, and over again my friend
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction

Yeah, my blood’s so mad
Feels like coagulatin’
I’m sittin’ here, just contemplatin’
I can’t twist the truth
It knows no regulation
Handful of senators don’t pass legislation
And marches alone can’t bring integration
When human respect is disintegratin’
This whole crazy world
Is just too frustratin’

And you tell me over, and over, and over again my friend
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction

And think of all the hate there is in Red China
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama
Ah you may leave here for four days in space
But when you return it’s the same old place
The poundin’ of the drums
The pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace
Hate your next door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace

“(Still on The) Eve of Destruction” (P.F. Sloan)
But you tell me over, and over, and over, and over again my friend
You don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction
No, no, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction

some time ago someone asked me,after I had spoken about what we could do in todays world to try and make it a better place, they spoke about their own sense of powerlessness in the face of war, evil, poverty, greed and suffering.  A Tall order but I tried.

From the Kennedys to Martin Luther King and Malcolm X and countless others,  these inspirational people who wanted to lead the world in a different direction were killed, like it says in the song The Diggers, “they were dispersed and only the vision lingers on.  This song goes on to say, ”

You poor take courage, you rich take care
This world was made a common treasury for everyone to share

and so it is, but the greed goes on too which is why the WTO talks in Cancun broke down, because our leaders are frightened to talk about what we might be willing to give up, actually its what they and those at the very top of our moneyed societies might be willing to give up.  I heard a Sikh speaker the other day, say that bringing a simplicity back into our lives may be the only way to save the world.  I mean do I really need a dishwasher?

This is the spirit we must carry through, to not let go of the positive energy built in the post war period for a better world.  Our present political leaders have moved back to a policy of the 1950s and 60s, exploitative, aggressive and lacking in empathy and understanding.  We do have a choice as to how we react to this.  Both Locally and globally.

Our attitude to each other, at work and play and in our communities means something.  Our attitude to our elected or unelected representatives (remember in most countries now decisions are made in the main about our lives by unelected people…yes even in the US and the the UK).

They keep us busy so we don’t complain, work hours get longer, and we just take it.  No wonder family life is stressful if we don’t have time for it.  Contact and communication break down all sorts of boundaries, as does thought for others and kindness.

Where were the things you buy and you wear for you your family and home made, and by whom, did they get a fair price, how much of your taxes goes to subsidising organisations or people already wealthy, while the poor starve across the world.  Every action we take has an effect somewhere, their are no innocent bystanders, if you work in an industry or commercial enterprize that is directly or indirectly exploitative or leads to the denegration or death of others then you will need to think over about your share in the responsibility.

We need not just to be against things but also be for something, it is not enough to say that we are against war or weapons manufacture, we need to provide alternatives for the people that work in these industries, we also need to offer other ways of governing if the present ideal of democracy is not working.

Death war and destruction are not the answer, we need to think both, why people might want to become terrorists or members of the army, why might someone want to kill for a living or for a cause.

We talk of spin, but the earliest spin and rebranding was The Ministry of War becoming the Ministry of Defence.  But enough of all this moaning, its really just another way of losing the spirit of power that we can see in the short period between 1963 and 1973.

For many of us individually we can change the way we act and react to things around us and we can gather with others to who feel similarly to us, we can also use our votes wisely on election day.  If you don’t vote, think about why not and what you might do instead.

I still have a vision and a belief that the world and our relationship to it will and is getting better, I have given up my jaded view, and am trying to put into practice a better way of living, I will make mistakes, will stumble and falter, but will still keep getting up and moving forward. Why because I know I have the power, however ordinary it is to change myself and to help others change, that power is our inheritance, our ability to bring back smiles to peoples faces, to give instead of expecting something and to Love even in the face of others hate.

As George Fox said in the 17th Century
“be patterns, be examples in all countries, places, islands, nations wherever you come; ”
—–

Related posts:

1. B-Movie by Gil Scott-Heron
2. Chief Sealth ( translation of a speech to Governor Stevens)
3. Mary Oliver – Dogfish

Autumn days, when the grass is jewelled
And the silk in a chestnut shell
Jet planes meeting in the air to be refuelled
All these things I love so well
So I mustn’t forget
No, I mustn’t forget
To say a great big thank you
No, I mustn’t forget.

Clouds that look like familiar faces
And winter’s moon with frosted rings
Smell of bacon as I fasten up my laces
And the song the milkman sings.
So I mustn’t forget
No, I mustn’t forget
To say a great big thank you
No, I mustn’t forget.

Whipped-up spray that is rainbow-scattered
And a swallow curving in the sky
Shoes so comfy though they’re worn out and they’re battered
And the taste of apple pie.
So I mustn’t forget
No, I mustn’t forget
To say a great big thank you
No, I mustn’t forget.

Scent of gardens when the rain’s been falling
And a minnow darting down a stream
Picked-up engine that’s been stuttering and stalling
And a win for my home team.

So I mustn’t forget
No, I mustn’t forget
To say a great big thank you
No, I mustn’t forget.

“Hymns for Use in Schools” (Oxford University Press)

Technorati Tags: lyrics, school, Singer, assembly

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Build a shrine to this woman, (Mary Oliver ) her way with words and soul and emotion is just amazing, her ability to understand and comminicate images from nature that echo ancient symbols and visions of the internal workings of the heart and soul is incredible. This poem really spoke to my condition, does it do it for you?

Dogfish
Mary Oliver

Some kind of relaxed and beautiful thing
kept flickering in with the tide
and looking around.
Black as a fisherman’s boot,
with a white belly.

If you asked for a picture I would have to draw a smile
under the perfectly round eyes and above the chin,
which was rough
as a thousand sharpened nails.

And you know
what a smile means,
don’t you?

*

I wanted the past to go away, I wanted
to leave it, like another country; I wanted
my life to close, and open
like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song
where it falls
down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery;
I wanted
to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,

whoever I was, I was

alive
for a little while.

*

It was evening, and no longer summer.
Three small fish, I don’t know what they were,
huddled in the highest ripples
as it came swimming in again, effortless, the whole body
one gesture, one black sleeve
that could fit easily around
the bodies of three small fish.

*

Also I wanted
to be able to love. And we all know
how that one goes,
don’t we?

Slowly

*

the dogfish tore open the soft basins of water.

*

You don’t want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don’t want to tell it, I want to listen

to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.

And anyway it’s the same old story – - -
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive.

Mostly, I want to be kind.
And nobody, of course, is kind,
or mean,
for a simple reason.

And nobody gets out of it, having to
swim through the fires to stay in
this world.

*

And look! look! look! I think those little fish
better wake up and dash themselves away
from the hopeless future that is
bulging toward them.

*

And probably,
if they don’t waste time
looking for an easier world,

they can do it.
—–

Related posts:

1. Music – Mary Oliver
2. The Summer Day – Mary Oliver
3. The Eve of Destruction

In Scarlet town where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin’
Made every youth cry Well-a-day,
Her name was Barb’ra Allen.
All in the merry month of May,
When green buds they were swellin’
Young Jemmie Grove on his death-bed lay,
For love of Barb’ra Allen.
He sent his man unto her then
To the town where he was dwellin’
You must come to my master, dear,
If your name be be Barb’ra Allen.
So slowly, slowly she came up,
And slowly she came nigh him,
And all she said when there she came:
“Young man, I think you’re dying!”
He turned his face unto the wall
And death was drawing nigh him.
Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Bar’bra Allen
As she was walking o’er the fields,
She heard the death bell knellin’,
And ev’ry stroke did seem to say,
Unworthy Barb’ra Allen.
When he was dead and laid in grave,
Her heart was struck with sorrow.
“Oh mother, mother, make my bed
For I shall die tomorrow.”
And on her deathbed she lay,
She begged to be buried by him,
And sore repented of the day
That she did e’er deny him.
“Farewell,” she said, “ye virgins all,
And shun the fault I fell in,
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of cruel Barb’ra Allen.”
—–

Related posts:

1. Chief Seattles Reply (attributed to Ted Parry)
2. The Blues
3. Chief Sealth ( translation of a speech to Governor Stevens)