Enchantment of the after birth

Posted by on 12.26.09 | 4 Comments
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I’ve been asked to post the powerpoint slides from a talk I gave at the Spiritual Awareness Center here in Bend a few weeks ago early in the Advent cycle, December 6th.

These are my talking points, so the info may not flow as well as an essay-type post. The prayer/poem was experiential and seemed to be very helpful. Let me know if you need clarification. Feel free to use any parts of it, with or without assignation. The idea for the talk came from the quotes located on the first page, seen on the wonderful website, ‘Abbey of the Arts’.

Blessings during this ‘thin place’ in the year—take note of who you meet on the streets of your town or your heart; ‘who’ you are giving birth to…and let’s make it a habit.

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(Talked here of Christology and where I sit on that scale: low Christology!)

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(see below for larger type: Sweet Darkness)

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(see below for larger print: Anthem)

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(see below for larger type: Motionless in Moonlight)

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Sweet Darkness by David Whyte

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing:
the world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

Anthem by Leonard Cohen

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.

Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government
signs for all to see.

I can’t run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.

But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up
a thundercloud
and they’re going to hear from me.
Ring the bells that still can ring …

You can add up the parts
but you won’t have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum

Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
That’s how the light gets in.

Motionless in Moonlight by Stephen Harrod Buhner

There is no place you are not seen.

It is no secondhand God

But the stones under your feet.

The tree leaning casual in shadows,

The wolf motionless

In moonlight,

Your own soul

Standing silent in darkness

Next to your unconscious self

That see you.

All of you.

In spite of your thinking yourself safely invisible,

these beings,

their lives,

pull,

tug,

at your tethers,

and call you back

to suckle

in leaf-dappled shadow,

at the ancient breast

that suckled humans

long before Jesus saw light of day,

or Buddha sat,

or ate mushrooms,

or man walked on the moon.

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