thought #222

my own voice
a voicelessness
drowned in

toomuchspeak.

blessings

love
comes knotted up in hurt

if there was no love
hurt would not be an issue

please be patient
there is some learning in this for them too

and it could be so
that it is happening
just
to make you
wiser


my love and prayer and blessings to you that you are able to earn wisdom in all this.

i am stupid when i am not feeling

what is our job as teachers

other than to pass this uncontainable insanity on to others?

Things to keep in mind

We are not only responsible for what we do, but also for what we do not do.

www.chakras.net

Notes on teaching (i)

Science should be taught knowing that what we don't know is infinitely larger than what we do

Numbers must be taught with the humble awareness that they don't really exist

And language taught knowing that the most important things in life often can neither be written nor spoken

A lot of misplaced priorities in education. A lot.

I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways.

- Rumi

lullaby

The night doesn't end. It spills into day and sloshes and stains. I am not an owl. Not a night owl. Not I. I am awake. I curl the pillow under my head, raise it higher. Sleep noisy little head! But these thoughts, really, they are cancerous and never seem to stop. They grow, and grow, and grow, rising like dust, they swirl between these walls, whirlwinds, tornadoes, storms. Stardust? I dream with my thumb. I twist, new cheek kissing pillow piled on itself. I turn, and turn, and turn, ticking away on my bed. Wait a minute....is that sleep? Leftover night mingles with bad breathed morning, light unveils belligerent day to cut second hand sleep to pieces. And then, at noon, there is nothing to combat the grogginess of summer and sweat.

So you, too, having the time of your life?

cobwebs

my mind is in cobwebs today.

thoughts curl into questions
and unfurl
unanswerably.

as always.

the eye has a blindspot.
the body has a blindspot.
the mind is a blindspot.

perhaps the only way to miss them
is to be at their centre.

perhaps the only way to achieve
is to adjust in failure,
at its centre.

too many thoughts of gain.
so much to lose.

sometimes, sometimes
the mirror of the mind
is a hell of distortion
reflecting blindspots reflecting blindspots reflecting blindspots
ad infinitum.


should i just befriend the spider that crawls within?

invitation

dearest,

let's make love through art?

love,
a