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Cursing the Weeds 

As I sit
Looking out over the garden
My eyes are drawn to the uncut grass
And that patch that grows a different shade,
To the shed door that doesn’t quite close
And the fence panel resting out of place.
I see uneven flagstones
And that leaky gutter.
So many things to do, I mutter.
And so I feel pulled, dragged in to action.
Called to account for so much unfinished business.

I hold my nerve, choosing to sit.
Letting eyes close and feeling the breath.My mind regurgitates the images,
Reminding me of jobs not done. My body feels the tension, a reflection of the gap,
The gaping chasm between how things are and how I would like them to be.I open my eyes and look out over the garden.I ask myself what can I bring to this?
After a moment flailing in the wind…

Perhaps a spark of curiosity.

I wonder what it would be like to step out and feel the dew on the grass.
Whether that patch feels any different
It is such a strong colour!
I remember the smell of cut grass.
I notice the plant beneath the leaky gutter, drip fed, and flourishing.
I enjoy the simplicity of the brick
Propping the shed door closed.
I feel a longing to go outside and be in the garden.

I hold my nerve, choosing to sit.
Letting eyes close and feeling the breath.
My mind wanders out, longing to feel
The cool, crisp blades
Of the dew-covered grass.
I feel the energy, the prickling
Emergence of interest.
The distance between where I am and where I would like to be.
I open my eyes, look out over the garden, and smile.
By Peter Morgan



The Ruin 

Derelict, boarded up, empty,
This old ruin reflects my mood.
Sad, alone, feeling restless,
In mind, body and spirit.

Weeds and brambles growing,
Smothering, chocking, tightening.
Frighten to see;
Knowing this is how I’m feeling,
This is me,

Sad, but true,
Not having a clue what to say or do,
Unable to find my way back,
Find light in my darkness.

How do I bring me back to life,
Let the light shine in.
Make me new and whole again,
Where do I start?

For in my heart I know I can restore and renew,
Bring life back into every nook and cranny,
Invite light in; let it flow through me again,
Windows open, door ajar,

By Breda Mc Donald© 20/7/15

Breda Mc Donald



Cord is cut, breath takes over
An anchor
A constant companion
Always there
Calling us back to awareness
Bringing our mind into focus
Noticing all as it is
Right here, right now
In this moment
My breath
My safety net
My life line
A space for my de -stress
A sanctuary for my aliveness

By Breda Mc Donald©

Breda Mc Donald


For One Who Is Exhausted

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight.

The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.

Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.

The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.

You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the race of days.

At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself…

John O’Donohue

Excerpt from, ‘For One Who is Exhausted.’


Stop and stand By Rachel Holstead


on your own patch of ground

– where your feet are.

Really stand there,

all of you – body and mind.

From this place

comes all your wisdom,

comes every answer

that is possible

for you to know

right now.

* * *

And when you see hurt,

hold tight to your sword

and know that you cannot fix another.

Instead, bear witness with the ground

to that other body,

to all its found and unfound wisdom


And when you think

‘I want to take your suffering’

just stand.

And when you think

‘I want to take your pain’

just stand.

And when you think

‘I cannot bear to stand here, I have to do something’

just stand.

And if you really must do something,

then remember love

and breath it

and be it.

And let the seams of your soul

Soften and melt away

so the boundary

between me and you

is no longer there

and we are both love

and witness to love,

ground and standing feet,

question and answer

(Rachel Holstead)



Still Seed by Una Keeley

I woke up this morning

And walked into a dream

The tables were turned

And the windows cleaned

A window to the future

Looked back on yesterday

A doorway from the past

Opened out into today

In the still seed of this moment a witness gently called

Wake Up, Wake Up, Wake Up

From the side-lines of life

I heard this soft voice call

Wake Up, Wake Up, Wake Up

I woke up this morning

And walked into a dream



All the True Vows (by David Whyte)

All the true vows
are secret vows
the ones we speak out loud
are the ones we break.

There is only one life
you can call your own
and a thousand others
you can call by any name you want.

Hold to the truth you make
every day with your own body,
don’t turn your face away.

Hold to your own truth
at the center of the image
you were born with.

Those who do not understand
their destiny will never understand
the friends they have made
nor the work they have chosen

nor the one life that waits
beyond all the others.

By the lake in the wood
in the shadows
you can
whisper that truth
to the quiet reflection
you see in the water.

Whatever you hear from
the water, remember,

it wants you to carry
the sound of its truth on your lips.

in this place
no one can hear you

and out of the silence
you can make a promise
it will kill you to break,

that way you’ll find
what is real and what is not.

I know what I am saying.
Time almost forsook me
and I looked again.

Seeing my reflection
I broke a promise
and spoke
for the first time
after all these years

in my own voice,

before it was too late
to turn my face again.


BEANNACHT by John O’Donohue

On the day
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.

And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The gray window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colors,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
In the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.

John O’Donohue


Prelude  by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

What if it truly doesn’t matter what you do but how you do whatever you do?

How would this change what you choose to do with your life?

What if you could be more present and open-hearted with each person you encounter working as a cashier in the corner store, a parking lot attendant or filing clerk than you could if you were striving to do something you think is more important?

How would this change how you want to spend your precious time on this earth?

What if your contribution to the world and the fulfillment of you own happiness is not dependent upon discovering a better method of prayer or technique of meditation, not dependent upon reading the right book or attending the right seminar, but upon really seeing and deeply appreciating yourself and the world as they are right now?

How would this effect your search for spiritual development?

What if there is no need to change, no need to try and transform yourself into someone who is more compassionate, more present, more loving or wise?

How would this effect all the places in your life where you are endlessly trying to be better?

What if the task is simply to unfold, to become who you already are in your essential nature- gentle, compassionate and capable of living fully and passionately present?

How would this effect how you feel when you wake up in the morning?

What if who you essentially are right now is all that you are ever going to be?

How would this effect how you feel about your future?

What if the essence of who you are and always have been is enough?

How would this effect how you see and feel about your past?

What if the question is not why am I so infrequently the person I really want to be, but why do I so infrequently want to be the person I really am?

How would this change what you think you have to learn?

What if becoming who and what we truly are happens not through striving and trying but by recognizing and receiving the people and places and practises that offer us the warmth of encouragement we need to unfold?

How would this shape the choices you have to make about how to spend today?

What if you knew that the impulse to move in a way that creates beauty in the world will arise from deep within and guide you every time you simply pay attention and wait?

How would this shape your stillness, your movement, your willingness to follow this impulse, to just let go and dance?