Life is Too Short

Life is too short to worry what the neighbors are doing. I still do not understand why some people worry about the weather, worry about what is happening overseas, or what the neighbors are up to. Especially when there own house is in disarray.

Too much time worrying about everything else only keeps us from getting our own stuff in order. Am I in order? There are those who ask this everyday and strive to better themselves from previous days, while others are still stuck on something that is out of their own control. Shaking my head here.

I often ask “So what are going to do about it?” They reply “Nothing, it is out of my control.” Exactly! So why worry?! Instead…why not just send love to this area of concern and move on?! I know my house is always due for a sprucing up…so I return back to my own house and tidy it up.

Stepping into the Canvas letting go that which is out of my control. Worrying less, focusing more on my own house…making sure it is in order. As for today, I will send love to those who need it and stick to the grass-roots of my own homestead…with hopes that it catches on elsewhere…

garden-buddha

Arms of Our Beloved

In the arms of our beloved, we are home.~Ani Po

Where to take refuge, find comfort in our days? Where to bask in the love awaiting my soul? It is there next to the sycamore with buttonwood so inviting. It is there under the umbrella of mother whispers call my name.

Fading into the past, remaining centered on the warmth of your caress…I move forward with a glimpse of what may be. It is here my beloved…that I answer the calls. It is here my hopes are restored. Giving up daily only to start anew…my hopes are restored.

What now? Where does thou have me go? I am ready…take me to this place of infinite possibilities with room for just one more. I no longer travel alone but with those who seek to know your name. Guide me, teach me…take my hand to this secret place…so that I may take those who need.

Stepping into the Canvas in the Arms of our Beloved no longer afraid. Though death may be of tomorrow or not for a thousand years, I live for this day as it were the last of its kind. This day and this day only…I might have…vowing, promising to shed yet another tear. From bleeding heart to the arms of our beloved…I am Home…Ani Po

Arms of our beloved