Archive for September, 2009

A Birthing Prayer

Sunday, September 27th, 2009

I pray for the mother about to give birth.
I pray for the child ’bout to walk on this Earth.
I pray for their safety as they move through this change.
I pray that tomorrow we will not be the same.

Copyright 2009 by Patty Love

Notes:
– May be sung to the rhythm “ta ta ti-ti-ti-ti ta ta ti-ti-ti-ti”  (If I find a better way to express this musically, I’ll edit the post.)
– The last line is meant as a more general prayer for the rebirth and raising of consciousness of the world’s people.  This is along the lines of one of the Buddhist traditions of praying for ourselves and then for all sentient beings.

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Invitation to Joy

Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009

Quietly at first it begins
as the dawn chorus awakens.
A few “early birds” start to sing
then more arise and join in.
My mind’s ears hears them as I sleep
and my dream I cannot keep.
Like a diver I begin to stir
and swim up through sleep’s layers.
Slowly my mind comes awake
just as dawn begins to break.
Earth’s music plays within my heart
and joyous feelings begin to start.
An invitation to Joy today
that I may walk The Beauty Way.

patty (fern) love
Copyright 2009

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Free Hugs – And A Few Bonuses

Saturday, September 12th, 2009

I had an amazing day!  Inspired by a YouTube video where a man stands with a simple sign that reads “free hugs” and hugs willing passersby, I did the same.  I attended the Rochester Pagan Pride Festival today and, with the organizers’ prior permission, carried a “free hugs” sign with me all day.  It’s a day that will long live in my memory.

I don’t know that I can accurately relate what it was like exactly.  One thing I can tell you is that it was fun.  While some people kept their distance – sometimes without making eye contact and sometimes with a smile and a “no thank you” – others approached me eagerly.  A few even run up to me, arms open.  One woman said she’d always wanted to do that.  She liked it so much that I offered her a second hug, this time with the sign on the ground and both of my arms open and ready.  That was really fun.

The kids were also especially fun.  If you haven’t hugged a wee one in a while, see if you can make that happen.  One young girl, who took the initiative and approached me, told me that I hug better than her mom.  (I hope her mom didn’t hear that.) 

There was one special child who will stay in my memory.  She didn’t say a word and couldn’t have with the pacifier in her mouth.  Not more than two years old, she ran right up and hugged me.  Then she ran right back to her daddy and gave him a hug first and then her mama.  This girl knows what to do with a hug – pass it on to someone else.  They’re not meant to be hoarded.

One of my favorite parts of the day was staying present during the hug and feeling when it was time to let go.  In order to stretch myself and truly give hugs, I made a commitment to myself to keep hugging until the receiver let go.  I didn’t want to be the one to stop the hug because I wanted to give each person what he or she needed and wanted.  Sensing that moment was tricky and I was wrong a few times.  Some of the hugs were very quick.  I gave a great, tight hug and let go when I sensed the person pulling away.  It was easy to know when to end those hugs.  Other hugs lasted much longer and I felt myself a little uncomfortable or maybe it was impatience.  Regardless of the emotion, I started just the slightest movement of pulling away (still with awareness) and discovered that the receiver was still fully engaged.  So back in I went, arms tight, letting the receiver end the hug.  Then it felt right to stop. 

I also met a special man, Peter.  I can’t tell you here all that we talked about today but I felt then and still do now that I was talking with God or, at the very least, someone who knows Him well.   As I told my husband, I truly felt like I was in the presence of the divine and I feel changed by the experience.  And it all started with a simple hug.

In all cases, I thanked the brave soul who received my hug and most thanked me.  I accepted their gratitude but I know that I was the one who was actually receiving, and it started by giving. 

Sometimes when you give a hug, a hug that comes all the way from your toes, you get back more than you give.  Try it.

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In Appreciation of Hands

Friday, September 11th, 2009

With these hands I do magical, ordinary things
Smooth cream on booboos
Stitch together a torn knee
Pluck a melody out on strings.
My fingers they bend, my thumb it does, too
I can caress you
Undress you
Make love with you, too.
They really are amazing this grouping called a hand
Holding pencil to paper
Painting a landscape
Or leading a band.
Hugging my dear ones and touching are my favorite things
Smoothing your curls
Touching your shoulder
Or handing you your wings.
My body is amazing and my hands are even more
Helping me show love
Helping me give love
And simply, kindly holding a door.

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Holding Grandmother's Hand

Friday, September 4th, 2009

I was there when it happened yesterday.  People on their way to…(whereever).  Laughing, chatting, singing, and driving.  Suddenly someone does the unexpected and turns in front of another car.  You know the sounds -the nearly simultaneous screech and thud.  The sound of my stomach turning.  Uh oh, an accident.

My first conscious thoughts as I approached the car that took the crash head on were:  “What will I see when I look through the car window?  Can I handle it?  Will I know what to do?”  Whatever the thoughts were in-between the crash and the  awareness of walking toward the car, I discovered later that in seconds I had put my bike kickstand down, sent my 9-year-old son to stand safely by the light post, pulled the cell phone from my pocket, dialed 911, and started walking into the middle of the holiday weekend travel log-jammed intersection.  “What will I see?  I’m scared to look,” said my mind. 

Luckily for the passengers they had not a visible scratch.  A quick check of the other car and the same.  Someone Else was there -helping.  Triage done!  (If there were invisible injuries, I will never know.)  “Now what?  How can I help until The Authorities come?  Who needs me more -my son or the car’s occupants?”

Looking into the passenger window again, my mind relieved at the relative okayness of the situation, I was free to see through the eyes of my heart.  My heart saw two scared women checking with each other.  “Are you okay?  What happened?  I’m okay.”

The fifty-something driver daughter was farthest away from my reach and my son.  Her mother, Grandmother, sat with only the partially opened window between us.  As I wondered how to help, I saw her lips tremble in response to my gentle inquiries.  Answering while she bravely fought back tears, her ageless Mother’s Courage claimed to only be worried about her daughter.  Was she really okay?  The trembling lips and reluctant tears spoke to my heart and suddenly my heart knew what to do.  I asked if I could just hold her hand through the window.  

Hearts connected through our hands, I stood leaning in.  She sat -waiting.  Together we waited.  Sometimes it feels so long before Help in the form of official vehicles arrives.  Someone Else suggested the car should be moved out of the intersection.  The driver complied.  Grandmother held my hand as  I walked alongside the moving car.  Though my mind wondered if I should let go, my heart (and hers) knew it wasn’t time yet.  We stayed connected.

Finally sirens arrived -police, rescue vehicles.  It was time for The Authorities to help.  With Grandmother’s permission, I made final good wishes, accepted their gratitude, and returned to my role as mother.  After connecting with my bravely onlooking son, I gathered my Mother’s Courage and crossed that scary intersection with him.  Then it was our turn -our lips trembled, our eyes welled with tears as we relived our scary witness experience.  We were okay, too.  Just scared.  I knew what to do – I took his hand and gave him a hug.

I can still feel her skin in mine today -the soft, sunken skin of an aged Grandmother.  (Is that how My Own Grandmother’s hand felt?)  And next time, my mind as instructed by my heart will know what to do – just reach out and take the Scared Hand.

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