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in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)

in times of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me

– e.e. cummings

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Music heals / I am a believer. These are the albums that have carried me through the last decade.

  1. Iron & Wine – Our Endless Number Days
  2. Joni Mitchell – Clouds
  3. Bright Eyes – I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning
  4. David Gray – Life in Slow Motion
  5. Eva Cassidy – Songbird
  6. Alexi Murdoch – Time without Consequence
  7. Bonobo – Black Sands
  8. Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago
  9. James Yorkston – The Year of the Leopard
  10. Brett Dennen – So Much More

To truly know the world look deeply within your own being; to truly know yourself, take real interest in the world.

Rudolf Steiner

“If someone told me to write a book on morality, it would have a hundred pages and ninety-nine of them would be blank. On the last page I would write, ‘I recognize only one duty and that is to love.’ And as far as everything else is concerned, I say no.”

Albert Camus

my blood approves,
and kisses are better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
—the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

e.e. cummings

 

From moment to moment

Sliding in the silences

The creativity of being

Is love.

Maggie, UK, For Krishnamurti

I had the blues because I had no shoes until upon the street I met a man who had no feet.

Ancient Persian Saying



What more can you do in life but reach out with both your hands at whatever comes nearest to you and hold on until all your fingers are broke.

William Goldman

Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she’s in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand.

Elton John

One day a man was walking along the seashore. He noticed that during the night many seashells and starfish had washed upon the beach. Thoroughly enjoying the morning sun and cool sea air, the man walked for miles.

As he strolled along, he noticed a small figure dancing in the distance. It made him chuckle to think of someone celebrating life in such an uninhibited way. As he drew closer, however, it became apparent that the figure was not dancing. Instead, she seemed to be repeatedly performing some ritual.

He drew nearer still and noticed that the small figure was a child. She was methodically picking up starfish and tossing them into the surf. He paused for a moment, puzzled, then asked, “Why are you throwing these starfish?”

“It’s high tide,” she replied, “If I leave them on the beach, the sun will soon dry them and they will die. I am throwing them into the ocean so they can live.” The man considered her actions, impressed with the child’s thoughtfulness. Then he motioned up and down the miles of the beach. “There must be thousands of starfish along here,” he said, “you cannot possibly make a difference.”

The young girl stopped. Her face darkened. She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip, “You’re probably right,” she said softly. She looked down at the sand. Then she leaned over, carefully picked up another starfish, pulled back and arched it gently into the sea.

With a tone of gentle defiance, she said, “But I made a difference for that one.”

A story originally described by “The Star Thrower” by Loren Eiseley

"You want to exercise your will, bend the language your way, bend the world your way. You want to control the flow of impulses, images, words, faces, ideas. But there's a higher place, a secret aspiration. You want to let go. You want to lose yourself in language, become a carrier or messenger. The best moments involve a loss of control. It's a kind of rapture, and it can happen with words and phrases fairly often-completely surprising combinations that make a higher kind of sense, that come to you out of nowhere." Don Delillo, in an interview