Not Looking for the Shore Inspired by Rumi’s “The Drowning” I stopped asking the river where it’s going. The current doesn’t owe me an answer. At first I clung to every rock, wrote letters to the bank: Take me back. Now I let the cold climb my ribs. My name is dissolving like salt. They ask, Aren’t you afraid of drowning? But I’ve already died to the version of me who needed to stand on solid ground. Love is not a life raft. It’s the deep water that finally feels like home.

Mark's poem has inspired me to share something I wrote this morning. (Most days I write a poem.) That's when I closed the door to easiness and grace, to skipping through life with God's holy joy. That's when I told myself a life of ease would be unfair to those who swam in pools of misery. O God, my God, I dove into the pool and swam with them. O Blessed One, I didn't see the Way. That's when the Absolute of Life was taken by the worldly winds, and I was left to fend for water, parched and lonely on desert, while all along the sky glittered with gold.

An epiphany came to me today thanks to Skool. I had left a group out of embarrassment. I felt like I had done something wrong. The leader of the group checked in with me via Chat. His doing so prompted a confession of embarrassment. Shining a light on why I left. And as I was in Chat confessing, it hit me that I could have practiced self-forgiveness (or maybe asked for pardon) and I overlooked the possibility entirely. (This is a tangent, but I am reminded of the traditional Japanese culture where guilt isn't emphasized but when you lose face, that's the end, there's no coming back. But in this case, it was that the possibility of forgiving myself just didn't land on the radar.) When reflecting on this right afterwards, I couldn't help but wonder how many times I've overlooked this, how many times running away was the only path I saw, when all along there was another path I could choose. (Probably countless times. And I may never know for I wouldn't have been aware of what I was doing at the time.)

I like many Poets including the poetry of @Karen Hamilton one of our lovely members 😊 I enjoy reading Rumi, and the following poem I wrote in honour to him, I hope you like it 🙏🏻 The Guest at My Own Door after “The Guest House” I used to sweep the hard feelings under the rug, but now I leave the door unlocked. Grief walks in without knocking, sits in my best chair, and I make tea for both of us. Joy is shyer, a flicker at the window but I’ve learned not to chase. Anger brings his loud coat, stomps the floor, yet stays to wash the dishes. Every morning I wake up as someone’s visitor. Today, I am trying to be a good host. With love ❤️ Always Mark

Love….It is in everyone, sometimes we just need to find it…. Love, has no limits and it does not discriminate…. ’Love Is’ I Can’t change even if I tried, even if I wanted to…Love, She keeps me warm My Heart does not see race Love has no age limit Love has no gender Love has no disability Love is Love Love has no race Our family is no less than any other family Love has no religion We have universal love With Love ❤️ Always Mark