End of the year I got an e-mail with the following text:
We’re starting a collective, constructive, and hopefully uplifting
It’s a one-time thing and we hope you will participate. We have picked
those we think would be willing and make it fun.
Please send a poem to the person whose name is in position 1 below (even
if you don’t know them).
It should be a favorite text/verse/meditation that has affected you in
difficult times. Don’t agonize over it.
I am really not a fan of mails like this and some people reminded me that this is just a chain letter. However I did not agonize over it 🙂
Here are the poems, quotes, text, or whatever I could collect so far. They are in four different languages sent by people I know and some total strangers. In any case an interesting read!
Our Deepest Fear (by Marianne Williamson)
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.
We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us;
It’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we’re liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.
‘True Belonging’ a quote by Brene Brown
(from the book: Braving the Wilderness)
“True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing
in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can
share your most authentic self with the world and
find sacredness in both being a part of something
and standing alone in the wilderness.
True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you
are. It requires you to be who you are”.
Please Come Home (by Jane Hooper)
Please come home. Please come home.
Find the place where your feet know to walk
And follow your own trail home.
Please come home. Please come into your own body,
Your own vessel, your own earth.
Please come home into each and every cell
And fully into the space that surrounds you.
Please come home. Please come home to trusting yourself,
and your instincts and your ways and your knowings,
And even the particular quirks of your personality.
Please come home.
Please come home and once you are firmly there,
please stay home awhile and come to deep rest within.
Please treasure your home. Please love and embrace your home.
Please get a deep, deep sense of what it’s like to be truly home.
Please come home.
Please come home and when you’re really, really ready,
And there’s a detectable urge on the outbreath, then please come out.
Please come home and please come forward.
Please express who you are to us, and please trust us
To see you and hear you and touch you
and recognize you as best we can.
Please come home. Please come home and let us know
all the nooks and crannies that are calling to be seen.
Please come home, and let us know the More
that is there that wants to come out.
Please come home. Please come home,
and when you feel yourself home, please welcome us too.
for we too forget that we belong and are welcome,
and that we are called to express and fully and be who we are.
Please come home. Please come home,
you and you and you and me.
Thank you Earth for welcoming us,
and thank you touch of eyes and ears and skin,
touch of love for welcoming us.
May we wake up and remember who we truly are.
Please come home. Please come home. Please come home.
Das verlorene Paradies (by John Milton)
Doch wen, zunächst, wen senden wir dorthin,
Um diese neue Welt zu suchen, wer
Soll würdig unter uns befunden werden?
Wer soll den bodenlosen, unermess’nen
Und finstern Abgrund zu bewandern wagen
Und einen unbekannten Weg sich bahnen
Durch das massive Dunkel, oder wer,
Auf luftigen Schwingen durch die leeren Schründe
Im Fluge unermüdlich fort sich tragend,
Auf der glückseligen Insel schließlich landen?
Demain dès l’aube (by Victor Hugo)
Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends.
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.
Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.
Je ne regarderai ni l’or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et, quand j’arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.
‘Style’ (by Charles Bukowski)
“Style is the answer to everything.
A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thing
To do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without it
To do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art
Bullfighting can be an art
Boxing can be an art
Loving can be an art
Opening a can of sardines can be an art
Not many have style
Not many can keep style
I have seen dogs with more style than men,
although not many dogs have style.
Cats have it with abundance.
When Hemingway put his brains to the wall with a shotgun,
that was style.
Or sometimes people give you style
Joan of Arc had style
John the Baptist
I have met men in jail with style.
I have met more men in jail with style than men out of jail.
Style is the difference, a way of doing, a way of being done.
Six herons standing quietly in a pool of water,
or you, naked, walking out of the bathroom without seeing me.”