Journey of the Heart

From time to time, I find it refreshing and uplifting to list the things for which I’m grateful… Sometimes, I do it when I go for a run – I see whether, over the course of several miles’ running, I can keep the list growing and not run out of new things to add. It’s incredible, how many things there are. Even in the difficult times, even in the dark times, the list is long and sometimes startling. On this occasion, I wrote part of my list into a poem… “For healthy days and strong days, for days when I can touch the stars - days that keep me from the brink on the other days...” Yes; there are those “other days”; it’s not helpful or healthy to deny it, but I’m grateful that so far, the stars I’ve touched in the “strong times” are still there in the dark times - even when they’re obscured and I can’t see them, let alone reach them, for a while - reminding me that dawn is just over the horizon. Gratitude  by Ruth Calder Murphy For the small things; ...

This poem came on the eve of Thanksgiving while contemplating on all the parts we often struggle with… Those parts that we have a hard time hearing, knowing, and being with, around this time of year when it's often difficult to hear our own voices.   It also came out of that space, and time, when we think more intensely about those we no longer have (physically) in our lives.   This poem is a tribute to all those parts that make us whole and offer us opportunity for growth and further reason to give thanks for all that we are.  Pictured is the author Krista Katrovas My Parts Sometimes I wonder, even while teaching yoga, if I’m having a heart attack because my heart swells with remembrance of those I’ve loved then lost in physical form or in some other way and I’m in awe of how they continue to visit me. Sometimes in downward facing dog I can hear something they’ve said, like, “I’ll be here with you forever,” or, “No one...

My last poem here was a coming out poem… About coming out as a trans-gender woman. This one is about accepting that I am what the divine planned. The Hummingbird Moth I have just seen the master of disguise A moth that thought it was a hummingbird, Hovering at blooms lapping up the Gods own nectar. And I thought this is me, an imposter at the feast. Then I heard a laugh on the breeze full of wry humour And the questioning words in my mind Asking Does the moth think she is an imposter? Does she fly around all day wishing she was a bird? Then I realised that even as a moth I have a place At the table of diversity I realised the one inescapable truth And that is I Am. ~ Sarah Courtney Dean : I am a poet and my poetry is part and parcel of my spiritual tradition. I am a Druid and a seer and also a member of the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids. I live in the UK in the beautiful county ...

Uncertainty presses us to trust beyond what we can see and to be expectantly present in each day we are given... The initial inspiration for this poem came to me more than eight years ago, when I was traveling in Ghana.  While there, I had the opportunity to attend performances of several classic plays I had seen in the United States (including The Sound of Music and Grease). I loved seeing the different ways these stories were translated through another culture. That got me thinking about ways of reframing the familiar, looking at the same concepts through different cultural lenses.     At the time, I was trying to eat vegetarian, which proved to be a challenge in Ghana. My nearly-daily diet consisted of rice and beans, sweet plantains, and life-changing pineapples and mangoes. My friends insisted that I try traditional Ghanaian fufu. In West and Central Africa (as well as parts of the Caribbean), fufu is a staple food, prepared by boiling starchy veget...