May there always be work for your hands to do;
May your purse always hold a coin or two;
May the sun always shine on your windowpane;
May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain;
May the hand of a friend always be near you;
May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.
“He who has a why to live can bear with almost any how.”
~ Viktor Frankl
The following folks are among the winners of an iTunes ebook of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again. If your name appears on the list please send an email to ray.brese@gmail.com to receive your iTunes redemption code. Any email must be received by the end of the day, December 21, 2018.
Marcel Rus
Aishwarya Shah
Becky Jones
Ben’s Bitter Blog
Yazzeus
A Wild Rose
Cubby
Arunkrishnan22
Little Fears
Rahul Gaur
Afzai
Soren
educated unemployed Indian
Defining Yellow
Astrids Words
By Rumi
If you put your hands on this oar with me,
they will never harm another, and they will come to find
they hold everything you want.
If you put your hands on this oar with me, they would no longer
lift anything to your
mouth that might wound your precious land-
that sacred earth that is
your body.
If you put your soul against this oar with me,
the power that made the universe will enter your sinew
from a source not outside your limbs, but from a holy realm
that lives in us.
Exuberant is existence, time a husk.
When the moment cracks open, ecstasy leaps out and devours space;
love goes mad with the blessings, like my words give.
Why lay yourself on the torturer’s rack of the past and future?
The mind that tries to shape tomorrow beyond its capacities
will find no rest.
Be kind to yourself, dear- to our innocent follies.
Forget any sounds or touch you knew that did not help you dance.
You will come to see that all evolves us.
If you put your heart against the earth with me, in serving
every creature, our Beloved will enter you from our sacred realm
and we will be, we will be
so happy.
“The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.” – Saint Jerome
The following is an excerpt from Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again:
“I feel as I’m stumbling forward, M. You know how it is, two steps forward and then I step on a rock, causing me to lose my balance. I stumble to the ground—always forward, never backward.”
“I like the metaphor,” M said. “Stumbling forward describes how I felt during my periods of intense grieving. When I stumbled forward, I chose to pass through grieving’s doorway and stumbled forward knowing I had to learn new ways to live. I learned to do many things Peter previously did for me. I didn’t want to learn to do them, I had to stumble forward. I had to grow.”
I am giving away an ebook copy (available on iTunes) of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again to 50 lucky winners who like this post by midnight, tonight, December 17th. Winners will be randomly selected and notified by email with the iTunes code for downloading Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again. If you liked this post or previous Dancing Alone posts and want to receive an ebook copy of Dancing Along: Learning to Live Again, please complete the contact form below or email me directly (ray.brese@gmail.com) with your email address. I will not share your email address or place you on any newsletter mailing list.
Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again is available in paperback and ebook formats from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, and Kobo.
Let The Dreams Go
Let the dream go. Are there not other dreams
In vastness of clouds hid from thy sight
That yet shall gild with beautiful gold gleams,
And shoot the shadows through and through with light?
What matters one lost vision of the night?
Let the dream go!!
Let the hope set. Are there not other hopes
That yet shall rise like new stars in thy sky?
Not long a soul in sullen darkness gropes
Before some light is lent it from on high;
What folly to think happiness gone by!
Let the hope set!
Let the joy fade. Are there not other joys,
Like frost-bound bulbs, that yet shall start and bloom?
Severe must be the winter that destroys
The hardy roots locked in their silent tomb.
What cares the earth for her brief time of gloom
Let the joy fade!
Let the love die. Are there not other loves
As beautiful and full of sweet unrest,
Flying through space like snowy-pinioned doves?
They yet shall come and nestle in thy breast,
And thou shalt say of each, “Lo, this is best!”
Let the love die!
“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
The following is an excerpt from Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again:
“M shrugged and said, “I don’t know why God answers some prayers and others are unanswered, Ray. No one knows. I don’t know why good people suffer and bad people thrive. I don’t know, and I have no answers. I know you’re angry. You’re not the first person to be mad at God, and you won’t be the last. You may not see it today or tomorrow, but you’re loved. When you open your eyes to love, and you will, you will see little flowers of love coming your way in unexpected ways. It may be a stranger who asks you casually how you’re doing. It may be a neighbor doing something nice for you. I don’t know. I received thousands of love flowers—that’s what I call them—and, I’m still receiving them.”
I am giving away an ebook copy (available on iTunes) of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again to 50 lucky winners who like this post by midnight, December 17th. Winners will be randomly selected and notified by email with the iTunes code for downloading Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again. If you liked this post or previous Dancing Alone posts and want to receive an ebook copy of Dancing Along: Learning to Live Again, please complete the contact form below or email me directly (ray.brese@gmail.com) with your email address. I will not share your email address or place you on any newsletter mailing list.
Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again is available in paperback and ebook formats from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, and Kobo.
There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.
In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,
That “love” is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.
Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a
Stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.
There are different wells within us.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far, far too deep
For that.
