June 4, 2009
I went on a journey to the Seattle Aquarium yesterday and in addition to my favorites of sea otters and moon jellies, I found myself captivated by reflections and children pressed up against the glass to see more clearly. What do you see? © Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts: Transformative Living through Contemplative & Expressive Arts Become a fan of the Abbey on Facebook, follow this blog on Facebook, friend me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter
The great, gashed, half-naked mountain is another of God’s saints. There is no other like him. He is alone in his own character; nothing else in the world ever did or ever will imitate God in quite the same way. That is his sanctity. -Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation These mountains — Mount Baker and the Sisters and Shuksan, the Canadian Coastal Range and the Olympics on the peninsula — are surely the edge of the known and comprehended world…. That they bear their own unimaginable masses and weathers aloft, holding them up in the sky for anyone to
You were born from a ray of God’s majesty and have the blessings of a good star. Why suffer at the hands of things that don’t exist? Come, return to the root of the root of your Self. You are a ruby embedded in granite. How long will you pretend it’s not true? We can see it in your eyes. Come to the root of the root of your Self. -Rumi, from “The Root of the Root of Your Self” in Love Is a Stranger: Selected Lyric Poetry of Jelaluddin Rumi © Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts: Transformative
Pour yourself a cup of tea and ponder this question. Notice what the image stirs in you. Then go visit this week’s Poetry Party, and savor the poetic treasures gathered there. Then write your own poem and enter for your chance to win a prize! There are several ways to enter and the drawing will be on Sunday. Thank you to everyone who has been so generous with supportive comments for each other as well. I’ll be at the Northwest Women’s Convocation Friday and Saturday with an exhibit table to talk about my work and sell my journals. Please stop by and say
A Note Life is the only way to get covered in leaves, catch your breath on the sand, rise on wings; to be a dog, or stroke its warm fur; to tell pain from everything it’s not; to squeeze inside events, dawdle in views, to seek the least of all possible mistakes. An extraordinary chance to remember for a moment a conversation held with the lamp switched off; and if only once to stumble upon a stone, end up soaked in one downpour or another, mislay your keys in the grass; and to follow a spark on the wind with
