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when wind moves wild intelligence 
all bodies speak 
catch my drift?
“There are three parts to every pose” the yogi says, “getting into the pose, getting out of the pose, and the pose itself.”
It clicks just before the landing; stay present during those expansive in-between spaces.
Summer always gives way to autumn.
🎼Songlines for the Shifting Season🎶
Beautiful Boy (John Lennon)
September Song (Agnes Obel)
Under Giant Trees (Agnes Obel)
Butterfly (India Arie)
Daydreams (William Goldstein)
Deep Night Cicada (Miyama Higurashi) Marshall McGuire & Riley Lee
Dream of the Moon Flower (Tsukikusa No Yume) Marshall McGuire & Riley Lee
September (Earth, Wind & Fire)
Lose It (Oh Wonder)
Forever (Tina Malia)
Streamside (The Album Leaf)
“Magic is…the heart working with the fingers to remind the head how little it knows.”
-Adam Gopnik, The Real Work
The mighty oak was once a little nut who held its ground.
-Unknown
The Lotus
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying,
and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.
Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my
dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind.
That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to
me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.
I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and that this
perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
—Rabindranath Tagore
Today’s offering in celebration of Earth Day: Precious moments aboard this beautiful planet with a reading of my favorite poem by e.e. Cummings, #26
“Whatever we do or whatever we do not do, we are practicing mudras, so it only makes sense to understand what is it we are doing.
–Indu Arora
purr, purr, purr
That little skipper…
“When I look in her eyes she goes with me to a blossom world…I’m pickin’ up good vibrations….what elation…what a sensation…”
–Good Vibrations, The Beach Boys
[This post was inspired by Kathy at Lake Superior Spirit who is playing a fun game of “Photo Shorts.” Tag. You’re it!]
The Monday morning hustle shuffle plays on autorepeat: traffic jamming, horns blaring, cell phone ringing, signals crossing. In the heart of the city, hidden in plain sight of the human enterprise, lies a different venture. Off the paved and trodden trails, tune down, down, down the eyes, the ears, the flesh, to receive another broadcast: the pulsing song of the heart wood is playing.
[This post was inspired by Kathy at Lake Superior Spirit who is playing a fun game of “Photo Shorts.” Tag. You’re it!]
The last day of August, a field of sunflowers beckons with all heads nodding, “Come.” A detour occurs, as she on her way somewhere forgotten, steals a moment to walk the trail and look deeply into flower faces. Worker bees go on about their dirty jobs as white butterflies aerial dance over it all.
[This post was inspired by Kathy at Lake Superior Spirit who is playing a fun game of “Photo Shorts.” Tag. You’re it!]
My Little Spacebook 