Three Short Selections

Making Contact    by Virginia Satir

I believe
The greatest gift
I can conceive of having
from anyone
is
to be seen by them,
heard by them,
to be understood 
and touched by them.
The greatest gift
I can give
is
to see, hear, understand
and to touch
another person.
When this is done
I feel 
contact has been made.

From the book Teaching With Fire
*****************************************************

From Teaching a Stone to Talk    by Annie Dillard

In the deeps are the violence and terror of which psychology has warned us.  But if you ride these monsters deeper down, if you drop with them farther over the world's rim, you find what our sciences cannot locate or name, the substrate, the ocean or matrix or ether which buoys the rest, which gives goodness its power for good, and evil its power for evil, the unified field: our complex and inexplicable caring for each other, and for our life together here.  This is given.  It is not learned.

******************************************
And one for John:

Make Music With Your Life    by Bob O'Meally

Make music with your life
a
    jagged
silver tune
cuts every deepday madness
Into jewels   that you wear

Carry 16 bars of old blues
wit/you
everywhere you go
walk thru azure sadness
howlin
Like a guitar player

A Billy Collins Favorite

Forgetfulness

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.

February means Valentine's Day, and Love

I think Beth Nielsen Chapman is one of the finest wordsmith poets of our generation.   She is a genius, IMHO.  So, in honor of love, here are some of her famous lyrics.   If you want a real treat, download her songs, or at least listen to her singing them.  You will be touched deeply.

How We Love 

Life has taught me this;
Everyday is new,
And if anything is true,
All that matters when we're through

  is how we love.
Faced with what we lack
Some things fall apart,
But from the ashes new dreams start;
All that matters to the heart 

  is how we love.

Chorus:
How we love, how we love,
With the smallest act of kindness
In a word, a smile, a touch.

In spite of our mistakes
Chances come again,
If we lose or if we win
All that matters in the end

 is how we love

Chorus:
How we love, how we love
I will not forget your kindness
When I needed it so much.

Sometimes we forget,
Trying to be so strong
In this world of right and wrong,
All that matters when we're gone
All that mattered all along
All we have that carries on... 

  is how we love.

The Path Of Love

Oh the path of love is deep 

  with a thousand twists and turns,
There are promises to keep, 

  there are endless things to learn.
Through the laughter and the tears

  sometimes lost, sometimes alone,
Letting go is how you steer, 

 and it always leads you home.

Oh the path of love is free, 

  it will never hold you back.
Like the branches of a tree, 

  reaching out till it's lost track.
And it opens wide each heart 

  like the seed that breaks the stone,
No matter where you are, 

  it will always lead you home.

Oh the path of love is true, 

  and it only wants what's best,
There are doors it pulls us through 

  as it puts us to the test.
And there's nothing to pretend,

  in our heart somehow we've known
The path of love won't end, no 

  it only leads us home.
The path of love won't end, it only leads us home.

   Beth Nielsen Chapman

Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me

by Mary Oliver

Last night

the rain

spoke to me

slowly, saying,

what joy

to come falling

out of the brisk cloud,

to be happy again

in a new way

on the earth!

That's what it said

as it dropped,

smelling of iron,

and vanished

like a dream of the ocean

into the branches

and the grass below.

Then it was over.

The sky cleared.

I was standing

under a tree.

The tree was a tree

with happy leaves,

and I was myself,

and there were stars in the sky

that were also themselves

at the moment,

at which moment

my right hand 

was holding my left hand

which was holding the tree

which was filled with stars

and the soft rain--

imagine! imagine!

the long and wondrous journeys

still to be ours.

Nobody Knows But Mother

   By Mary Morrison

How many buttons are missing today?
   Nobody knows but Mother.
How many playthings are strewn in her way?
   Nobody knows but Mother.
How many thimbles and spools has she missed?
How many burns on each fat little fist?
How many bumps to be cuddled and kissed?
   Nobody knows but Mother.

How many hats has she hunted today?
   Nobody knows but Mother.
Carelessly hiding themselves in the hay---
   Nobody knows but Mother.
How many handkerchiefs willfully strayed?
How many ribbons for each little maid?
How for her care can a mother be paid?
  Nobody knows but Mother.

How many muddy shoes all in a row?
   Nobody knows but Mother.
How many stockings to darn do you know?
   Nobody knows but Mother.
How many little torn aprons to mend?
How many hours of toil must she spend?
What is the time when her day's work shall end?
   Nobody knows but Mother.

How many lunches for Tommy and Sam?
   Nobody knows but Mother.
Cookies and apples and blackberry jam--
   Nobody knows but Mother.
Nourishing dainties for every "sweet tooth,"
Toddling Dottie or dignified Ruth--
How much love sweetens the labor, forsooth?
   Nobody knows but Mother.

How many cares does a mother's heart know?
   Nobody knows but Mother.
How many joys from her mother love flow?
   Nobody knows but Mother.
How many prayers for each little white bed?
How many tears for her babes has she shed?
How many kisses for each curly head?
   Nobody knows but Mother.

Welcome To Your New/Old Life 2012

Hello, New Friends and Old (meaning long term, not as in aging),
As a new year begins, I am setting aside some things that are not longer useful, or that not longer hold passion for me.   My old blog was about trying to connect with my family far away so they would get to know their Grandma.   I see now, that was an artificial premise, since the only way to really know someone is to live inside their skin with their memories, emotions,  and life experiences.  I also see that there was some ego need that made the blog inauthentic.  So I'm bidding farewell to Grandma's Dyeing Pursuits.   I think I will delete it from the blog-o-sphere by Spring.
        I've spent my life trying on different characters and personalities, always coming up with "That's Not Me."   So now I have 65 years of knowing what is "not me", and I'm running out of time trying to find what IS.  (That is a loaded term in so many ways.)  The ONE THING (think Jack Palance in City Slickers), that I do know is I AM a teacher, and so are you.  I remain passionate about teaching.....anything and everything.   It brings me joy to understand something well enough to be able to teach it to someone else.
     I stand on the shoulders of greatness:   everything I know, I learned from someone else who has touched my life, either in the flesh or in a historical context, through books or music, through blogs, essays, biographies, classes, friendships both personal and online.   I know I have been touched by strangers in elevators or grocery lines who gave only a smile when I needed it.   I have overheard conversations which held answers I've been seeking.
     I have learned  tremendously painful lessons through terribly painful choices I've made, or words I said that inadvertently hurt others.  I've tried to learn the underlying lessons when others' words have cut me to the bone.   Trying to keep an open heart through all of that pain is one of the most difficult lessons I'm trying to learn these days;   how do I remain open-hearted and compassionate when I'm the one who is hurting?   It's a lifelong practice, and I don't know how long my life is going to be, so I don't know when that lesson will be complete.
     Here is the premise of the new blog.   I love quotes and poetry.  I love to collect, compile, and share them.   I want to combine that idea with my passion for teaching, and have this be a blog for self-reflection.   I want to embody as well as encourage and inspire others to follow the dictate to KNOW THYSELF.  

Polonius:
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

I will add some of my favorite poems, with questions for self-inquiry and introspection.

The "teaching" will be only about self-discovery, since we're all on that journey through this life.   The comment section will be for you to add some insight you've gained on your own personal path to conscious awareness.   My hope is that we will all have new insights for each other, not continue to think the same things we've already thought a million times, but to remain open-hearted, open-minded, compassionate, and most of all SELF-ACCEPTING. 

"New Year's Day is every man's birthday."   Charles Lamb

  This is the Day 

This is the year for making changes

This is the year for moving on

This is the year of overcoming

This is the year for growing strong.

This is the year for a new way of thinking

This is the year for making plans

This is the year for reaching out and

This is the year for joining hands.

Gone are the lonely nights of yearning

Gone all the dark and cloudy skies

All the unsteady bridges burning

All the doubt and all the lies

This is the chance to recapture the power

This is the time to abandon the fear

This is the moment, the finest hour

This is the year, this is the year.

CHORUS

This is the year that I put into action

All my desires and all of my means

This is the year I follow my passion

This is the year of my dreams.

This is the year I'm letting go of

Trying to change the ones that I love

This is the year I turn it over

This is the year I look above

This is the year I take my intention

Turn it away from distraction and talk

This is the year I take the step and

     This is the year I walk the walk.

Chorus

This is the year I make it happen

This is the year I follow through

This is the year I move ahead on

All of the things I want to do.

This is the chance to renew my commitment

This is the time to be conscious and clear

This is the moment for living fully

This is the year, this is the year. 

So, you can use this song for journaling, or discussion with your partner, or meditation, and the best part is, it is for your personal use....or not.
Main question:  What is this the year for in your life?   Shoot for the stars.  

Happy New Life to all of my teachers "out there."   You live inside my heart.

This poem/song is from David Roth, one of my favorite teachers.

It can be found on his Nights at the Chez CD, and is downloadable.  Please respect his copyright and give him credit if you use this.  We're all standing on each other's shoulders to reach greater heights.

And if you're so inclined, leave a comment.