So much of life around me brings wonder, but today the idea brings me to nature. My dad (gone over 20 years now) was a farmer and often showed us kids crops that were growing, fireflies that lit up in marshy areas, or baby chicks hatching. I tend to bring this awareness of nature to watching for new growth on plants in spring, the colors of autumn leaves, and pine smells on rainy days. They are wonderful!
I would say the launch of Artemis II. Never really thought about the fact that there hasn’t been a USA trip in 50 years to the moon! It all fills me with wonder!
I also watched the Passion of the Christ service at the Vatican. It cam on live on my phone so I decided to watch it for the first
time while working from home. Such an amazing event.
I was able to watch the Artemis rocket launch from my home on Fl West coast, amazes me every time I can see rocket launches from the East coast out my front door…. incredible.
I go about my life
as if everything around me is
normal . . .
I get up in the morning,
wash my face,
put on clothes,
feed the cats,
eat breakfast,
and move on with my day.
But none of it is really normal at all . . .
this life
is a magnificent mystery,
and powers that I don’t truly understand
make all of this possible.
Some force of energy
pumps blood
to and from my heart
without my command . . .
moves air
in and out of my lungs
without the whisper of a word
from me.
I have food and water
and fresh clothing . . .
animals,
whose nature it is to live outside
(as perhaps mine is,
after all)
are living in my home,
sleeping in my bed,
playing,
using a litter box
and communicating with me
as if I were one of them.
I have grass and gardens . . .
things grow in them.
Flowers and weeds and vegetables to eat
will soon be appearing
above the surface of the soil
like magic.
I didn’t plant life
in those seeds and bulbs and roots.
None of it is really my doing . . .
it all just happens.
We all
have our moment in time,
and when the Universe knows our time here is up,
we die.
I’ve had cats
for so many years
and at a certain invisible point
they all die . . .
the flowers and weeds and vegetable plants
all have their time in the sun,
but they too die,
and so will I.
Winter will come
and then spring again,
bringing new life and new growth
and nature’s bounty
will struggle up through the soil or sleep and death
and will rise again,
the fire to exist
burning in each sleeping breast.
We each serve a purpose . . .
my cats,
buried in the back yard,
will nourish the soil
and make it rich and fertile;
so will I.
None of this is truly normal
in the human driven world,
but in the Universe of our souls
it is all as it was meant to be.
Still a masterpiece of great magnitude,
and a miracle to me . . . ♥
Sparrow, One of our local cemeteries offers a green burial and I have let my son know that is what I want. I want to feed the earth that has given so much to all of us.
What moments fill me with wonder? Hmm. Wonder feels like a really high bar. Instead of wonder, how about feeling connected? I can grasp connection more easily than wonder. And really, feeling very connected to a person or a group actually comes pretty close to wonder. Recently when responding to the Daily Question, especially when I shared about falling, I received responses from many of you that showed you had experienced something similar, or that you had appreciated or connected with my feelings about falling. I loved that. It made me feel cared for, like what I felt mattered, and that I was valued in this space. Feeling disconnected from others feels lonely to me, so feeling very connected feels huge.
After hearing about and reading the article Carol Ann linked us to yesterday “Were You There,” I noticed the hymn playing in my mind, over and over. More than thoughts, it has been bringing up a feeling a bit like being overwhelmed. Maybe it’s something close to wonder. It’s made me think about family members whom I love so much and because of this I reached out to several of them. This felt so right, and it was so satisfying when I was able to reach my Mom’s sister, my 95 year old Aunt. The song is still playing in my mind. I think it’s causing me to long for a spiritual connection. I don’t know exactly how to find that, or maybe I’m already finding it as I connect with loved ones. The hymn, Were You There, reminds me of experiencing the pain of a loved one who is suffering and in doing so connecting to them through this pain. “Were You There” brings up a longing that I feel deeply from within. As I continue to experience this, I will be watching to see where it leads.
Thank you so much,
dear Mary,
for sharing this vulnerable and honest reflection . . .
I know the longing of which you speak,
and Grace
is where I find comfort and connection
with something greater than myself.
Your reaching out to family
is a beautiful impulse,
and is nourishing you
as well as those you’ve reached out to.
I think
you are opening yourself
to the Universe
and all of the wonder around you.
Such wise words you have spoken . . .
Love will lead the way.
Namaste. ♥
It was clear enough to me, too. And I understand that longing. I have been wanting deeper connection with some loved ones as well and have been trying to figure out how to make it happen. Especially since we all live so far apart. Thank you for what you shared here 🙏🏼
The silence in a dewy grassy morning when the sun first peaks through the horizon while taking in the fresh air around me. As I stretch out reaching for the sky reminding myself there is no limit except for the ones that I put on myself. For whatever is meant for me will be for me as God will lead the way.
The relationship between my son and daughter-in-law and all the animals they have rescued. I love watching them with the animals. Their care and concern.
When I took my walk this morning, I had just learned about the U.S. jet that was shot down inside of Iran. I grieve for all who are dying on both sides of this conflict but my focus this morning was on the two pilots in that plane. I feel no wonder only tons of concern. I tried to make every step I took on that walk a prayer for their safety. Now at home on this Holy Friday, I bring my prayers to the foot of the cross. I turned to poetry and found Ellen Bass’ poem on prayers for Peace.
Pray for Peace by Ellen Bass
Pray to whomever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the bo tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah. Raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekhina, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.
Then pray to the bus driver who takes you to work.
On the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus,
for everyone riding buses all over the world.
Drop some silver and pray.
Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latte and croissant, offer your plea.
Make your eating and drinking a supplication.
Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.
To Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, pray.
Bow down to terriers and shepherds and Siamese cats.
Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.
Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.
As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.
Making love, of course, is already prayer.
Skin, and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile cases we are poured into.
If you’re hungry, pray. If you’re tired.
Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.
When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else’s legs.
Or crush their skulls.
And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheelchair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer as the earth revolves:
less harm, less harm, less harm.
And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail,
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, twirling pizzas–
With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.
Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.
Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.
Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.
Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your Visa card. Scoop your holy water
from the gutter. Gnaw your crust.
Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.
Anytime I spend with Mother Nature fills me with wonder & awe.
All her spring flowers make me smile & fill me with Joy. I love daffodils. I especially delight in their beauty when I arrange them in blue vases.
Perfectly beautiful……
Love the full moon. Saw her in all her pink glory the other night. Magnificent….
🕊️🩷
I am often filled with wonder. But there’s nothing quite like looking up at the night sky on a warm and dark summer night, and pondering the size of this place and the timescale that we are a part of.
Flowers! Pink roses, yellow daffodils, fields of lupine in the mountains. Form and function, nature’s art. I love Easter time for all of its flowers (and sweets).
I’m sitting outside of a coffee shop in a small shopping center having a lavender matcha, and there’s a man sitting with a yellow lab who’s being such a good boy. Watching people walking past this dog is fun… the way some of their eyes light up, especially the kids. Some say hello to the dog, who I just heard that his name is Goose, and others walk a little further around to not get too close. I’ve always wondered about people who don’t like dogs or maybe are scared of them, but at my ripe age, I understand that everyone has their own story, and I have no idea what they experienced over the years. Me, I’ve been chased by a dog on my bike, bitten a time or two (nothing too bad), but I still love them. Goose is laying on the sidewalk with his back legs spread like a frog, something that always makes me laugh. I think I’ll let Goose know that I think he’s a good boy before I go teach my class 🐕
Often it’s something in nature: the ocean crashing on the shore, waterfalls, birds soaring in a flock, the magic of seeds and the first shoots of green poking up through the soil, trees, moon, stars, and right now, the beauty of the sun touching the tops of the mountains around the valley I’m in. Humans doing amazing things also fill me with wonder: figure skaters twirling around so many times before they land; runners, whether they’re sprinting or going on and on for miles and miles; professional bike racers punishing themselves up and down the Alps; ballet dancers and gymnasts, Yo-Yo Ma playing the cello, artists bringing something to life or creating something we’ve never seen before. So much wonder-worthy in our world!
Yo-Yo Ma is a wonderful human being. And yes, I am with you about watching athletically talented/skilled people. The human body used to the edge of its abilities is a marvel.
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So much of life around me brings wonder, but today the idea brings me to nature. My dad (gone over 20 years now) was a farmer and often showed us kids crops that were growing, fireflies that lit up in marshy areas, or baby chicks hatching. I tend to bring this awareness of nature to watching for new growth on plants in spring, the colors of autumn leaves, and pine smells on rainy days. They are wonderful!
🌱💦☀️❤️
I would say the launch of Artemis II. Never really thought about the fact that there hasn’t been a USA trip in 50 years to the moon! It all fills me with wonder!
I also watched the Passion of the Christ service at the Vatican. It cam on live on my phone so I decided to watch it for the first
time while working from home. Such an amazing event.
I was able to watch the Artemis rocket launch from my home on Fl West coast, amazes me every time I can see rocket launches from the East coast out my front door…. incredible.
I am following it on fb it is so so cool, they are able to tell us about the experience and show live footage
I go about my life
as if everything around me is
normal . . .
I get up in the morning,
wash my face,
put on clothes,
feed the cats,
eat breakfast,
and move on with my day.
But none of it is really normal at all . . .
this life
is a magnificent mystery,
and powers that I don’t truly understand
make all of this possible.
Some force of energy
pumps blood
to and from my heart
without my command . . .
moves air
in and out of my lungs
without the whisper of a word
from me.
I have food and water
and fresh clothing . . .
animals,
whose nature it is to live outside
(as perhaps mine is,
after all)
are living in my home,
sleeping in my bed,
playing,
using a litter box
and communicating with me
as if I were one of them.
I have grass and gardens . . .
things grow in them.
Flowers and weeds and vegetables to eat
will soon be appearing
above the surface of the soil
like magic.
I didn’t plant life
in those seeds and bulbs and roots.
None of it is really my doing . . .
it all just happens.
We all
have our moment in time,
and when the Universe knows our time here is up,
we die.
I’ve had cats
for so many years
and at a certain invisible point
they all die . . .
the flowers and weeds and vegetable plants
all have their time in the sun,
but they too die,
and so will I.
Winter will come
and then spring again,
bringing new life and new growth
and nature’s bounty
will struggle up through the soil or sleep and death
and will rise again,
the fire to exist
burning in each sleeping breast.
We each serve a purpose . . .
my cats,
buried in the back yard,
will nourish the soil
and make it rich and fertile;
so will I.
None of this is truly normal
in the human driven world,
but in the Universe of our souls
it is all as it was meant to be.
Still a masterpiece of great magnitude,
and a miracle to me . . . ♥
Sparrow, One of our local cemeteries offers a green burial and I have let my son know that is what I want. I want to feed the earth that has given so much to all of us.
Me too,
dear Carol Ann . . . ♥
Bravo, dear Sparrow.
I try,
dear Joseph. ♥
What moments fill me with wonder? Hmm. Wonder feels like a really high bar. Instead of wonder, how about feeling connected? I can grasp connection more easily than wonder. And really, feeling very connected to a person or a group actually comes pretty close to wonder. Recently when responding to the Daily Question, especially when I shared about falling, I received responses from many of you that showed you had experienced something similar, or that you had appreciated or connected with my feelings about falling. I loved that. It made me feel cared for, like what I felt mattered, and that I was valued in this space. Feeling disconnected from others feels lonely to me, so feeling very connected feels huge.
After hearing about and reading the article Carol Ann linked us to yesterday “Were You There,” I noticed the hymn playing in my mind, over and over. More than thoughts, it has been bringing up a feeling a bit like being overwhelmed. Maybe it’s something close to wonder. It’s made me think about family members whom I love so much and because of this I reached out to several of them. This felt so right, and it was so satisfying when I was able to reach my Mom’s sister, my 95 year old Aunt. The song is still playing in my mind. I think it’s causing me to long for a spiritual connection. I don’t know exactly how to find that, or maybe I’m already finding it as I connect with loved ones. The hymn, Were You There, reminds me of experiencing the pain of a loved one who is suffering and in doing so connecting to them through this pain. “Were You There” brings up a longing that I feel deeply from within. As I continue to experience this, I will be watching to see where it leads.
Thank you so much,
dear Mary,
for sharing this vulnerable and honest reflection . . .
I know the longing of which you speak,
and Grace
is where I find comfort and connection
with something greater than myself.
Your reaching out to family
is a beautiful impulse,
and is nourishing you
as well as those you’ve reached out to.
I think
you are opening yourself
to the Universe
and all of the wonder around you.
Such wise words you have spoken . . .
Love will lead the way.
Namaste. ♥
Thank you, Sparrow.
I rewrote the last few sentences as what I wrote seemed a little confusing. It sounds like it was clear enough to you. ♥️
It was clear enough to me, too. And I understand that longing. I have been wanting deeper connection with some loved ones as well and have been trying to figure out how to make it happen. Especially since we all live so far apart. Thank you for what you shared here 🙏🏼
The silence in a dewy grassy morning when the sun first peaks through the horizon while taking in the fresh air around me. As I stretch out reaching for the sky reminding myself there is no limit except for the ones that I put on myself. For whatever is meant for me will be for me as God will lead the way.
Monica, god sure plans better than us.
The forsythia. Bright yellow, one of the first signs of spring. It’s hard to be glum when I see that riot of color.
One thing I miss about Pa is the bright yellow forsythia… don’t have it here in FL.
The relationship between my son and daughter-in-law and all the animals they have rescued. I love watching them with the animals. Their care and concern.
When I took my walk this morning, I had just learned about the U.S. jet that was shot down inside of Iran. I grieve for all who are dying on both sides of this conflict but my focus this morning was on the two pilots in that plane. I feel no wonder only tons of concern. I tried to make every step I took on that walk a prayer for their safety. Now at home on this Holy Friday, I bring my prayers to the foot of the cross. I turned to poetry and found Ellen Bass’ poem on prayers for Peace.
Pray for Peace by Ellen Bass
Pray to whomever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the bo tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah. Raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekhina, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.
Then pray to the bus driver who takes you to work.
On the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus,
for everyone riding buses all over the world.
Drop some silver and pray.
Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latte and croissant, offer your plea.
Make your eating and drinking a supplication.
Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.
To Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, pray.
Bow down to terriers and shepherds and Siamese cats.
Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.
Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.
As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.
Making love, of course, is already prayer.
Skin, and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile cases we are poured into.
If you’re hungry, pray. If you’re tired.
Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.
When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else’s legs.
Or crush their skulls.
And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheelchair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer as the earth revolves:
less harm, less harm, less harm.
And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail,
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, twirling pizzas–
With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.
Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.
Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.
Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.
Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your Visa card. Scoop your holy water
from the gutter. Gnaw your crust.
Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.
Dear Carol Ann, thank you for Ellen Bass’ poem. I love her writings.
Yes, pray for peace. Pray without ceasing.
Happy Easter weekend to You. 🙏🏻🌸🐣
Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem – I cried reading it.
I love this poem. Thank you for making it part of my day today.
🙏❤️🙏🙇♀️ Thank you dearly for sharing. dear Carol.
Anytime I spend with Mother Nature fills me with wonder & awe.
All her spring flowers make me smile & fill me with Joy. I love daffodils. I especially delight in their beauty when I arrange them in blue vases.
Perfectly beautiful……
Love the full moon. Saw her in all her pink glory the other night. Magnificent….
🕊️🩷
PKR, we’re a month away from those flowers blooming in the Twin Cities.
PLR thanks for sharing sounds lovely .
I am often filled with wonder. But there’s nothing quite like looking up at the night sky on a warm and dark summer night, and pondering the size of this place and the timescale that we are a part of.
Flowers! Pink roses, yellow daffodils, fields of lupine in the mountains. Form and function, nature’s art. I love Easter time for all of its flowers (and sweets).
and tulips too 🌷, yes beautiful colorful flowers
The miracle of sleep. The same brain that was tired is healed after a good sleep through the night. How beautiful it is as a gift from God. 🧠
My Ngoc, there’s nothing better than a good night sleep.
I’m sitting outside of a coffee shop in a small shopping center having a lavender matcha, and there’s a man sitting with a yellow lab who’s being such a good boy. Watching people walking past this dog is fun… the way some of their eyes light up, especially the kids. Some say hello to the dog, who I just heard that his name is Goose, and others walk a little further around to not get too close. I’ve always wondered about people who don’t like dogs or maybe are scared of them, but at my ripe age, I understand that everyone has their own story, and I have no idea what they experienced over the years. Me, I’ve been chased by a dog on my bike, bitten a time or two (nothing too bad), but I still love them. Goose is laying on the sidewalk with his back legs spread like a frog, something that always makes me laugh. I think I’ll let Goose know that I think he’s a good boy before I go teach my class 🐕
Happy Friday, all 🌿
I love watching the world go by from an outdoor coffee shop. Also, lavender matcha, yum! Enjoy!
It was so nice to sit out there and take it all in, especially with that delicious beverage!
I feel wonder when I am experiencing something new, something natural.
Often it’s something in nature: the ocean crashing on the shore, waterfalls, birds soaring in a flock, the magic of seeds and the first shoots of green poking up through the soil, trees, moon, stars, and right now, the beauty of the sun touching the tops of the mountains around the valley I’m in. Humans doing amazing things also fill me with wonder: figure skaters twirling around so many times before they land; runners, whether they’re sprinting or going on and on for miles and miles; professional bike racers punishing themselves up and down the Alps; ballet dancers and gymnasts, Yo-Yo Ma playing the cello, artists bringing something to life or creating something we’ve never seen before. So much wonder-worthy in our world!
lately I’ve been watching on snap short stories female pilots flying fighter jets- AMAZING
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/D7ccfQr43tw
Yo-Yo Ma is a wonderful human being. And yes, I am with you about watching athletically talented/skilled people. The human body used to the edge of its abilities is a marvel.
”So much wonder-worthy in our world!”
. . . and the heart to see and experience it,
dear Barb. ♥♥♥
I need a moment to wonder about this…
& ponder . . .
🙂
Haha!