Journey of the Heart

  Freshening A focus on attending to the pain, the needs of others has long been my companion. So deeply ingrained  that I tend to override my own, yet I both hurt… and need. This antiquated habit  of putting myself last sometimes constricts  my sense of allowing  the rhythm of healing to move freely through. But, it does anyway. When I spiral softly  into another chasm  that needs attention I can get confused, think I must do something, apologize, or that I’m simply  supposed to hurt. Eventually, though, my breath joins the wind in the trees, the pulse of the ocean, the vastness of the sky above. I can smile, say hello to new Health, let pains release over time. With a freshening of companionship in this vessel that is me, I become more and more adept  at riding  the steady waters of healing, letting them carry me along. (This poem originally appeared in the author's blog found  here ) Sarah Carlson   has many pieces to her wh...

The poem starts by describing the beauty of a woman dancing... It describes her hands, her face, her delicate wrists. She is not scared, and she does not need anyone but herself. The speaker, who is watching this, is invited by the beautiful woman in a “chimeric dance” and soon the speaker falls in love, only to realize that the beautiful woman is actually herself. The speaker finds a deep love for who she is. Forgive Me by Paraschiva Florescu Out of her palms birds spurt out, a pleasing pitying of turtledoves and when she dances, the threads, thinly etched on the white skin, paint the air with delicacy and fate - irregular contours growing towards north, east and south and west and everywhere else. Her wrists rise up and the blue roads under her skin traverse up and down carrying a red life of cells hope oxygen love. The earth is slightly tilted dragging its hurried souls down down. But she is not scared of falling ...

  I wrote this poem sipping tea one morning as I watched a few birds just sitting on a branch for a long time… They did nothing, they just sat, some preened, others sat. I thought we have so much to learn from Nature, the ability to just be present, tune into the little things, and this ability to do self care, like this one parakeet was doing... preening. I used the Hindi term shringaar , which is the act of beautifying oneself, typically used when a woman is bathing, indulging in ritual acts of beautification, and then adorning herself with jewels and flowers. How we all need to do this more, how this is an act of self love, and how vital this is. Photograph by Jagdeep Rajput Life Lessons From A Parakeet by Jhilmil Breckenridge Five birds on a treetop preen. Five birds on branches perch. The vain parakeet — I watch her in wonder. She preens and cleans, leaving no part of her body unpreened. I smile, thinking of us women Whether we coul...

  This poem came on a day I was hibernating… For me, withdrawing into hibernation is a special time of introspection and self-realization. We all need it, as givers in the world: time for self love, to recharge, so that we may continue to do what we do best. So that we may continue to fully give, and fully receive, by keeping in harmony the dance between the two.  Bear Medicine by Krista Katrovas I go deep into my cave, recharge my soul, so that I may continue to give. I am a giver, love to share energy, to serve the under-served, but there comes a time when I must retreat, before I run on empty. When I find that my breath has landed around my chest, near my ears, rather than in my belly like a relaxed baby asleep in a crib, this is when  I crawl deeply within,  inside my cave. I don’t change out of my pajamas. I read inspirational books, passages that inspire, poems,  and I create poems, too, ...