Monthly Archives: January 2014

Norman Mailer Tuesday

Norman Mailer quote

 

I decided to take a  break from everything that was going on today, as you can tell.    Everyone has days when they are doing a million things at once, but it never seems like anything gets accomplished, or maybe it does if you are a super human.   We all are.  I think you get the point.  I am one who wants to do everything I can, but sometimes I take on too much and wonder why I do that because it ends up overwhelming me mentally and physically.  We only have two hands, but at times would like more.

Anyway, enough of my psycho babble!

Let’s get to the point.  I sat back in my chair and looked around the room.  Out of the corner of my left eye, I saw the quote that I have taped to the wall.

“I don’t think life is absurd.  I think we are all here for a huge purpose.  I think we shrink from the immensity of the purpose we are here for.”  ~Norman Mailer

That quote for whatever reason was calling me to pay attention.

We all have a purpose in life and need to slow down and enjoy the life that we have, while we have it.  That is difficult sometimes, especially when we love what we do!

 

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Music is the Window to the Soul

When I am silent I fall into that peace where everything is music

 

 

WHERE EVERYTHING IS MUSIC

Don’t worry about saving these songs!

And if one of our instruments breaks,

it doesn’t matter.

We have fallen into the place

where everything is music.

The strumming and the flute notes

rise into the atmosphere,

and even if the whole world’s harp

should burn up, there will still be

hidden instruments playing.

So the candle flickers and goes out.

We have a piece of flint, and a spark.

This singing art is sea foam.

The graceful movements come from a pearl

somewhere on the ocean floor.

Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge

of driftwood along the beach, wanting!

They derive

from a slow and powerful root

that we can’t see.

Stop the words now.

Open the window in the center of your chest,

and let the spirits fly in and out.

 

Poetry from The Essential Rumi

Rhyme and Reason: A poet finds inspiration in the Kripalu Labyrinth

Labyrinth

 

 

 

When I arrived at Kripalu in lat August 2012 (a beautiful 51st birthday present from my husband), I was experiencing a major arthritic knee flare-up that had started a few days earlier.  I chose to drive the five hours from Pennsylvania to Massachusetts anyway–no swollen joint was going to stop me!

The Kripalu catalog had shown up in my mailbox at a moment of transition: I’d taken over my mother’s real estate business when she died in 2001, and I was ready to do something for myself.  I registered for a writing program, because I’ve always loved poetry.

Due to my knee, I wasn’t able to hike, dance, or do yoga, but I was determined to see the Kripalu Labyrinth.  So on Sunday afternoon, when the program was over and I’d said goodbye to two new friends who had instantly become soul sisters, I took careful baby steps down the hill.  As I entered the Labyrinth, there were three paths to choose from, and my first thought was, Am I on the right path?  Then I heard my beloved late mother’s voice telling me that it didn’t matter which path I was on, because whichever it was, it was the right one for me.

The magic of the Labyrinth–and my mom’s words–manifested withiin minutes of me returning to my room.  I was sitting on my bed with my leg propped up, surrounded by my journals, notes from the program, a few books, and the latest Sports Illustrated magazine.  I looked over at [Los Angeles Angels outfielder] Mike Trout’s handsome face staring at me from the cover of Sports Illustrated, and bright lights went off in my head and heart.  Why not combine my love of poetry, specifically haiku, with my passion for sports?

I instantly wrote a haiku for Mike Trout, in honor of my late father, who loved baseball and fishing.  Then I wrote another, and another.  Within an hour, I had written 12 haikus.  I couldn’t stop.  I wroter several more the next day, and kept going once I was home.  I wrote 101 athlete haikus in eight weeks, and found a publisher almost immediately.

Exactly one year later, I came back to Kripalu for my birthday with my book in hand: Haikudos to Athletes: Poetry in Motion.  I’m now working on the second book in the series, and I have Kripalu and its magical Labyrinth to thank for this blessing of inspiration!

 

-Kelly K. Ambler, Pennsylvania

A Love Dream

Love by Peace by Piece Crations

 

PLEASANT thoughts come wandering,

When thou art far, from thee to me;

On their silver wings they bring

A very peaceful ecstasy,

A feeling of eternal spring;

So that Winter half forgets

Everything but that thou art,

And, in his bewildered heart,

Dreameth of the violets,

Or those bluer flowers that ope,

Flowers of steadfast love and hope,

Watered by the living wells,

Of memories dear, and dearer prophecies,

When young spring forever dwells

In the sunshine of thine eyes.

I have most holy dreams of thee,

All night I have such dreams;

And, when I awake, reality

No whit the darker seems;

Through the twin gates of Hope and Memory

They pour in crystal streams

From out an angel’s calmed eyes,

Who, from twilight till sunrise,

Far away in the upper deep,

Poised upon his shining wings,

Over us his watch doth keep,

And, as he watcheth, ever sings.

Through the still night I hear him sing,

Down-looking on our sleep;

I hear his clear, clear harp-strings ring,

And, as the golden notes take wing,

Gently downward hovering,

For very joy I weep;

He singeth songs of holy Love,

That quiver through the depths afar,

Where the blessed spirits are,

And lingeringly from above

Shower till the morning star

His silver shield hath buckled on

And sentinels the dawn alone,

Quivering his gleamy spear

Through the dusky atmosphere.

Almost, my love, I fear the morn,

When that blessed voice shall cease,

Lest it should leave me quite forlorn,

Stript of my snowy robe of peace;

And yet the bright reality

Is fairer than all dreams can be,

For, through my spirit, all day long,

Ring echoes of that angel-song

In melodious thoughts of thee;

And well I know it cannot die

Till eternal morn shall break,

For, through life’s slumber, thou and I

Will keep it for each other’s sake,

And it shall not be silent when we wake.

 

Poetry by James Russell Lowell ,Lowell’s Poetical Works, 1892

 

 

Distraction Button

 

distraction

 

 

The button is pressed,

suddenly your off on

an unknown quest.

But where is it that you  are off to?

What’s over here,

this is new.

You blink your eyes,

and you are mesmerized

by the twinkling lights.

You stare in amazement,

until the wonder is gone.

It’s time to move on.

You take a moment and

look around and realize

how far you’ve wandered.

The game distraction plays

is one it plays to win,

hoping that you will forget

where you have been.

Distraction, a wonderful

web it weaves,

leading you further and

further away.