It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals, or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine and your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with JOY, mine or your own: if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human. Continue reading
It never even crossed my mind when I started a blog that awards might be a part of it, so I was completely unprepared the first time one of my fellow bloggers kindly nominated me for one. The idea still makes me a little uncomfortable. Surprising, perhaps, in light of my theatre and dance background…I shouldn’t mind a little attention, right? But the fact is that I’ve never been good at blowing my own horn. I’ve always danced or sung or designed or written mostly because I love it, and the doing of those things is a reward in itself. I love creating beauty and bringing joy and making magic and shining a little light in the world, and if others like what I do, that’s great. Just knowing that makes me happy enough.
Although I do talk about myself and about things that happen to me in some of my blog posts, I don’t really see pathwriter as being about me. Continue reading
God says for me to tell You This:
nothing needs fixing;
You were made to bend Continue reading
No matter how I turn
the magnificent light follows.
Background to my sadness.
No matter how I lift my heart
my shadow creeps in wait behind.
Background to my joy. Continue reading
I was at the window
when a fly near the latch
was on its back spinning—
legs furious, going nowhere.
I thought to swat it
but something in its struggle Continue reading
Submit to a daily practice.
Your loyalty to that is a ring on the door.
Keep knocking and the joy inside
will eventually open a window
and look out to see who’s there.
For all that has been written,
for all that has been read, we
are led to this instant where one
of us will speak and one of us will
listen, as if no one has ever placed
an oar into that water.
It doesn’t matter how we come
to this. We may jump to it or be
worn to it. Continue reading