If you want your life to be like a verse in a sacred text, do not write your life
from your mind.
Sit in your garden. The squirrels may scold you. The loud machinery
of your mind may annoy or even scare you.
But sit in your garden. Let the birds sing you the course that you should go. Let the crickets tap out what step
s you shall take.
If you live near a river or a stream, let the riverstones give you their timeless input. They have been around much longer
than we have.
Wisdom enters the body like sunlight through the skin. Bathe yourself in sunlight, and listen to the intelligence of the woodpecker, who is your brother. You will find your way.
Sit in your garden. The squirrels may scold you. The loud machinery
of your mind may annoy or even scare you.
But sit in your garden. Let the birds sing you the course that you should go. Let the crickets tap out what step
s you shall take.If you live near a river or a stream, let the riverstones give you their timeless input. They have been around much longer
than we have.
Wisdom enters the body like sunlight through the skin. Bathe yourself in sunlight, and listen to the intelligence of the woodpecker, who is your brother. You will find your way.
***
If you sit in your yard long enough, you begin to notice
how nothing stays the same. The barn has chipping paint. The leaves that were green are the color of rust and moss all at once. Some of the pine needles have browned.
The house, looking so sturdy, has leaves in its gutters. The foundation is even looking shaky with its centuries-old beams. The roof needs some attention.
Change is constant here. I know we change, like this, all the time, but it goes without noticing. We are a suburban yard, subject to the weathering moment.
Yet somehow, a sturdiness endures, though it is elusive what this sturdiness is made of. Maybe it's what we call history. Or is it a sense of hope?
Maybe it's something holier, like wind mixing with the breath of billions of human beings and making the bamboo chimes clink above the hydrangea bush. What we call God, or the Infinite One.
I don't think it matters much, what it is, as long as we feel its weightlessness, this sense of continuation of what is most important.
***
The body is the root of the soul;Nourish yourself like a tender plant, put in a pot and placed on the altar to honor the great I Am.

Go outside and put your face to the sun; drink clean water, and as you drink, bow in gratitude to the spring or the river that is sharing its bounty with you.
How you tend the soil of your life becomes the foundation of your experience.
When you care for yourself, life becomes simpler and you can meet your experience with greater ease.
When you care for yourself, life becomes simpler and you can meet your experience with greater ease.
Tend the root of your soul well, with great care, and with great tenderness.
Celebrate what grows!
NOTE: The above is excerpted from 365 Verses, #1-3.
Copywrite 2008 Cynthia Yoder; reprinting or reissuing, in any form, is prohibited without permission from the author.

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