The Morning Poem
Becoming Free
The Morning Poem
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In not dumping our grief at being on planet earth and our sense of separation from all that is on any other life form.
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Trying to Speak What Has No Shape.
Silence is not the absence of music. It is music before it becomes sound. And so nothing is added. Nothing is adorned. The experience remains plain, whole, sufficient, and all love is conveyed.
Bioenergetic Integration III
In the deeper forms of experiential healing, memory is not recalled primarily through thought. More often, it returns through the body itself.
Grief in Motion
We often hear the phrase “hurt people hurt people.” But it is not always so simple.
The Poem That God Whispered to Rumi.
A calling that follows us through every wandering, every forgetting— until we turn, at last, and recognize the One who never left.