The Power of Not-Knowing: Lo-nayda

Over a year ago, I left my job as the Human Resources Director for a large long-term care community. I thought I would move into consulting, but it never felt quite right. Something deeper and more profound seems to be stirring in me. In response to my questioning, a spiritual friend offered this writing by Rabbi Shefa Gold, “The Power of Not Knowing.” A comforting reminder that my/our life’s path is a mystery and a wonder unfolding in every moment.

Lo-nayda mah-na’avod et-Yah ad-bo’aynu shama
We don’t know how we will serve YHVH until we get there. (Exodus 10:26)

We don’t know what form our service will take, what the world will be like or what will be called from us. The world is in flux and our lives are also changing moment to moment. We just don’t know. Not-knowing can be terrifying and yet it also holds the infinite potential of our power and creativity. We can only prepare for this mystery by becoming fully present, by accessing the fullness of Being in this moment, knowing that when we are called, we will respond with that fullness. On this journey to Freedom we must dare to live in a place of uncertainty that is held inside the confidence that just showing up in our fullness and in our uniqueness is enough. We won’t know what is needed until we get there. Each moment is a new “there.”

this morning…

I lit a cedar bundle 
to release toxins 
Sweetgrass to 
clear and 
generate 
happiness and joy 
Palo Santo wood 
to establish 
sacred space 

Meditation 
listening to 
monastics read 
the Fourteen 
Mindfulness 
Trainings on 
the Plum Village app 

This quiet 
Saturday morning 
Time to 
listen deeply 
connect with 
the deep silent 
voice of the cosmos 
drawing 
me in 
allowing 
unfolding 
as it arises 
like the mist rising 
from the 
fresh dew 
as spring flowers 
open with 
the rising sun 
this is 
our true nature 
expressing itself 
in a brief 
moment 
in time 
and space 
here now 

with love and trust 
nisi

of course. we all want to be free.

Punnika the Slave

In the early morning,
well before dawn,
I would go down to the river.

It was my job to carry water
up the hill
to my master’s house.

Of course.
We all want to be free.

But what good is freedom
when your sisters remain slaves?

I used to imagine an old man down there by
the river.
I used to imagine what I would say to him.

What does it mean–
to own another human being?

What does it mean–
to feel your own skin,
to touch it,
and know you are not free?

We all have bodies.
My sisters, I don’t have to tell you.

But where did I get this body?
Who made me a slave?

The old man and me–
standing here,
watching the river.

Waiting.
But for what?

Over the years,
this round
heart
has been
pounded flat.

Sometimes it doesn’t feel safe–
to feel anything at all.

Don’t give up my sisters.

Whatever you have to say,
now is the time to say it out loud.

All our dreams of the past.
All our dreams of what will be.

Come.
Reach out your hand.

Some rivers we must cross together.

the first free women:
poems of the early buddhist nuns


morning mists

Intimate with
breath
moving
in and out

Gentle kindness
embracing a troubled
heart and mind

Calm, space.

Moist tears of
realization and compassion
gathering like
morning mist rising from
the body of the earth
as she is touched by
warm rays from
the heart of the sun.
Nisi

squirrel gatherings

Over the past week I have hit and killed two squirrels as I drive the country roads on my way to work. Sometimes animals show up in my life, and their life energy speaks to something I am struggling with. I’m not saying these squirrels died for my sake, but that the experience was an opportunity to wake me up to how they live their lives, and to the lessons they may have to offer me:

“Squirrel has another lesson which can aid you if you observe the obvious, and which can prepare you for anything. It has to do with the safe place in which to put your gatherings. This safe place is an untroubled heart and mind, and that which is gathered to put in this place is wisdom and  caring.

The energies gathered will set your heart and mind free, so that you will know that all will be taken care of in its own time. Apply this to your fears about the future and they will vanish.”

Jamie Sams & David Carson

a poem for winter

Even in the dead of
a dark dreary winter

Life teems in
the garden of my heart

Bright yellow Winter Aconite
blooms off branches
dusted in snow

Blue sky mixes with
rain clouds, fog, and
a sun low in the sky

Light reflects within
the shadows of
sadness, sorrow,
anxiety

A tender, timid love
gently, bravely
warms the cold
edges AND

A mysterious enlightening
Buddha
shows me the way home

Nisi 2017

let

let birds sing me
let the sun shine me
let mud mud me
let leaves rustle me
let cedars perfume me
let vistas amaze me
let a broad grassy path
open me wide
let gentle breezes
caress my face and arms
let footsteps touch shadows
let clouds carry
thoughts away

alive

the bead at the center . . .

The bead at the center
changes everything.

There are no edges to
my loving now.

I’ve heard it said, there’s a window
that opens from one mind to another.

But if there’s no wall, there’s no need
for fitting the window, or the latch.
                                                                        Rumi

capitano donna

Last night, a dream
our spaceship crashes
They say everyone, everything was
destroyed
But the woman ship captain
is there
me and others
and some precious things–broken, everyday items in
a flat open box
do remain…
I wish I could remember
more
The captain was calm, self-assured,
not afraid…of the truth
something was not quite right
I wish I could remember

a soulmate of the Buddha
What are the Buddhas’
dreams for me?
Do I have enough
confidence and courage
to act sufficiently?
To carry them out?
Just to go forward?
As best I can?
With actions that remember the heart?
What precious thing
am I carrying?
What is good enough?