All you have is love

 ❤️ All you have is love. ❤️ As life is wont to offer, I have experienced the ins and outs of the deepest darkness and came one desperate night many years ago to be sitting on the back stairs of my own home on Garfield Avenue in Salt Lake City trying to sequester myself for the powerful and frightening things that had been drawn to me. 🌿🌿🌿And maybe there comes a point in everyone’s life where they are faced with the threat of feeling so alone that they cannot do anything but look at it, wondering aloud to the universe while sitting on the carpeted steps in the back of their home, ‘what can I do? Please help me.” But that is where I was that night. And there is both a long story and a short story through the journey of its resolution and I’ll leave neither but will simply say that I sat down on the steps as

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His mother was crying   When I think of the people who have gone out of my life as a result of this new time of naked ugly truth–“family”, friends, those who cannot find their voice of empathy in this new America; those who in a different time might have been okay with families being carted off on trains–there are moments when I chastise myself for being unable to love bigger; I feel bad for being unwiling to accept another’s path, knowing from my own experience that often the journey is one moment then another of flawed thinking. I feel bad that I don’t have contact with my brother, and my dad, and my mom; I feel like I “should” be making amends, reaching out in compassion. I worry; what if they’re scared or grieving and my actions are heartless? What if I’m being the same person I despise, lacking the tolerance that affords the wiggle room of compassion which allows painful times

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(You’re a) Beautiful Day

I listened to a choir performance my cousin shared of my Aunt Cathy—who apologized because she’d only intended to share it with choir members—and there was something there for me because I got this little tickle (of heart and brain flirting like courtship) that made me follow his lead and also offer reverent music. And my first impulse was to share something I’ve shared before–Part 1 of Chichester Psalms–because the specific Psalms the music references (108 v2 and 100) do this eruption of joy within me.   Not sure why.  I assume most likely because I don’t have any religion “radar blips” in my past so have been spared the disappointment of seeing that sometimes what looks like deep and lovely faith is just a nervous little man behind a curtain pulling switches.  In my world, Jesus hasn’t been tainted and misused—nobody utilized him to abuse my much more sacred Source-appointed free will—so I have emotional freedom to look upon him

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“Walk fearlessly into the house of mourning for grief is just Love squaring up to its oldest enemy.” Press the link to watch Chaplain Kate Braestrup’s video from The Moth “House of Mourning”. I really got this video, and understood it from a deep place.  For there was a time–after my soiree in college studying Native American and world religions and post-my first daughters birth–when I couldn’t see another path in front of me that didn’t lead to me becoming a non-denominational pastor.   So to engage as Ms. Braestrup does with her world from the caring of a larger sphere of knowing is the most comfortable place of experience for me.  And often I feel like a foreign visitor to a new planet when people talk of vacations and cars and hedonistic-esque material things for those to me are