Tag Archives: Daily Practice

Grounding with Fungi

The other day, Beth Owl’s Daughter, posted this amazing video:

I was struck by the role that fungi play in connecting trees and other plants. Fungi hunt for nutrients next to the roots of forest trees and the exchange that they enable, meters away from the trunk of the tree, provides for communication and a sharing of resources, even between species. I love the description of the process as similar to brain networks comprised of neurons where the neurons are related not only physically, but also metaphysically due to the manner in which they send messages back and forth and build upon each other.

I come back almost daily to a question that Sia Vogel gave as a gift: What Are Witches For? There’s, to paraphrase the Cowboy Junkies, more than one answer to that question, pointing me in a crooked line, but, for this Witch, the primary answer is that I am here to be in right relationship with and to my landbase and then to act upon that relationship. That’s a big assignment, but I work at it in little chunks.

A significant portion of my work involves really, seriously grounding here, into this ground, this specific Bit of Earth that surrounds my little cottage near the Potomac. I don’t mean the sort of generic grounding that we all do at a public ritual, at the home of a sister-Witch whom we’re visiting to perform a group spell, at an office, or courtroom, or car dealer when we need to work some instant magic. I mean running my roots into the soil that I’ve worked, and fed, and weeded, and handled for years and years. The soil fed with compost from the meals that I’ve cooked to share with friends. The soil that I worship with my bare feet in the Summer and that I rake free of leaves each Autumn. The soil upon which I stretch out to perform the Iron Pentacle.

I mean letting my roots re-establish connection with the roots of the ancient oaks that have grown here since America was young, with the giant magnolias that Landscape Guy and I planted and nursed along the Southern border of my woodland garden, with the lavender and sage blooming just now in the herb bed. I mean letting my roots play with the worms, and chipmunks, ants, and armadillidium vulgare that live in the ground.

Lately, I’m seeing if I can get fungii from the oaks, maples, magnolias, cryptomeria, lilacs, and calycanthus floridus to play with my roots, as well. After all, I want, in Joanna Colbert’s words, to be in on the gossip of my landbase.

What is your grounding practice like? What are you a Witch for?

(And of course, it is both synchronicity and lagniappe that the forester in the video concludes her discussion by invoking the metaphor of an ancient tree performing a “a passing of the wand.”)

Stop. Ground. Breathe. Return to Center.


Would now be a good time for you to stop, ground, take a deep breath, and return to your center?

Of course, the answer is, “Yes.” The answer is almost always, “Yes.”

Modern life can be, at the same time, both frentic and routine. And both conditions make it easy to forget who we really are and to ignore our connection to The All.

Being a Witch isn’t just about the connection that you feel when you can get away to the mountains for a few days or when you attend a festival or ritual. Being a Witch is about also about (I’d even go so far as to say “mainly about”) how you live in all of the moments, hours, days, and months in between. When you’re trying to herd the kids out the door in the morning. When you’re behind the most irritating young person in the world at the deli. When the program crashes the night before the report is due. When there’s only time for one: tv, catching up on chores, or your altar. (The best answer may be chores. I suppose it could, on rare occasions, even be tv. But a Witch makes a conscious choice, not one based on habit, or exhaustion, or advertising.)

One of the simplest ways that I know to remember who I am and to remember my connection to The ALL is to stop, as often as possible throughout the day, and ground, breathe, return to center. And then proceed from there.

One thing I do is to establish triggers that remind me to perform this simple practice. When the radio announces the time as I drive to and from work. When my phone rings. Whenever I look at the small dish full of succulents on my desk. When I gather my papers to walk into a meeting. When I turn the water on in my kitchen or bathroom. In a short time, it becomes almost automatic to give myself this gift whenever I experience one of my triggers.

Try starting with just one. When that becomes a regular part of your practice consider adding another one. It’s easy and no one even has to know what you’re doing.

Do you have a practice that helps you to be a Witch all day, every day? Do you use triggers?

Picture found here.

“If Anything Is Sacred, the Human Body Is Sacred.” ~ Walt Whitman

Police used batons to try to push the students apart. Those they could separate, they arrested, kneeling on their bodies and pushing their heads into the ground. Those they could not separate, they pepper-sprayed directly in the face, holding these students as they did so. When students covered their eyes with their clothing, police forced open their mouths and pepper-sprayed down their throats. Several of these students were hospitalized. Others are seriously injured. One of them, forty-five minutes after being pepper-sprayed down his throat, was still coughing up blood.

More here.

I haven’t felt so bad about America in a long, long time.

One of the things that daily spiritual practice does for me is to help me to be aware of the difference between how I feel at any given moment and who I “really” am. Between my moods and my core. Between what’s going on and where I’m going. In Kissing the Limitless, T. Thorn Coyle urges magic workers to distinguish between how they feel and who they are. Thus, she suggests that there is an important magical distinction between saying or thinking, “I am heartbroken,” vs. “I feel heartbroken.” I think she’s right about that.

And so, while I feel heartbroken by what I see happening in America, it doesn’t deprive me of my heart and will and mind. It doesn’t strip from me the skills of a Witch: to know, to will, to dare, and to keep silent. It doesn’t change my devotion to Columbia, Goddess of America and genius loci of my city. It doesn’t weaken my commitment to the Occupy Movement. It doesn’t change my relationship with my landbase, watershed, Bit of Earth.

After throwing up, shaking, and after crying into my morning coffee, I grounded, walked in my first-time-this-year-frosted-over garden (the Wheel turns, and a Witch’s job is to turn the Wheel), fed the birds and squirrels and chipmunks, kept my daily appointments, drafted a pleading, got on the treadmill, and then began to lay out the altar for tomorrow’s ritual in support of the Occupy Movement. Tonight, I will sit down at my altar, burn herbs from my garden, and ask Hecate Triodia, who creates the conditions in which change can occur, to move within the hearts and minds and limbic systems of America’s militarized police. They, too, are children of the Goddess, walking-wounded victims of patriarchy. I will force myself to see them as fully human in the hopes that they may someday (as may we, someday, all) be.

I can do this. I can hold within me, at the same time, both this stomach-wrenching, nerve-ripping pain and horror and my love of America, freedom, kindness, power-with instead of power-over. Of course I can. It’s the work of a Witch to hold opposing forces within the sacred magical tool of her own body. And I am a Witch. I am the Witch of this place. I am a Witch of this time. I am a Witch of this crossroads in time and space and history, this crossroads where my own Patroness will provide the conditions for change.

And so are you.

Picture found here.

Grounding: Magickal Practices


In comments to my recent post on Grounding, Seeker from Aus says:

I’ll admit that I have never had any kind of instruction in this field, every god, goddess, spirit, other-being and their pet knows that I have had no instruction. But thats never stopped me from trying to ground anyways; unfortunately I think it is something that I need to get instruction in (unlike other things where I have been in a similar situation) because I have attempted to ground using a number of different techniques and I’ve never had the kinds of experiences that people such as yourself have had.

That’s an important observation and I’m grateful to Seeker from Aus for making it. I have a few thoughts in response.

First, grounding, like so many other spiritual and/or magickal practices, is a different experience for every practitioner. The important thing isn’t to have the “right” experience or the experience that someone else describes. The important thing is to show up, be present, and do it. Attachment to a particular result is usually counterproductive.

Second, grounding, at least in my experience, is the kind of practice that needs to be done regularly and for some time before the experience begins to deepen. It’s been helpful to my practice to do it in the same place for an extended period of time. The first (dozens, if not more) times that I did it, I was simply visualizing and imagining as fully as I could. It took time to know what I was doing. It took time for my roots to get “good” at it.

Third, the experience of dealing with plant roots in my garden as I weed, transplant, plant seedlings, has really helped my own practice of grounding. I don’t know if I would help everyone, but, if you have a bit of Earth or even some indoor pots, I really recommend it.

Finally, not everybody is equally able at every practice. I have never “seen” an aura. I’ve had instruction, taken classes, (stand there; look at this person up against a white wall; squint; soften your gaze; see, it’s about here; do you see a difference?) tried and tried. I’ve never seen an aura. I can feel auras with the palms of my hands, but not see them with my eyes. And so, if even after effort, time, instruction (if you can find it), etc. you’re still feeling that you can’t ground, that’s OK, too.

What’s important is to have a way to connect yourself to the energies of the Earth during magical workings and to have a daily practice that allows you to be in relationship with your landbase. For you, it may be hugging or sitting near a tree. It may be holding crystals in your hands or placing them on your chakras.

What works for you? How did you learn to ground?

Grounding in Autumn: What a Witch Does


This time of year, here in the magickal MidAtlantic, most of the plants and trees have begun to seriously slow down in preparation for Winter. Some of our animals (squirrels, I’m looking at you) are almost manic, unning around, eating, and storing all the calories they can find, again in preparation for Winter. Other animals are migrating; my few remaining flowers are magnets for the butterflies heading south.

One of the Witch’s most basic practices is grounding. There are variations on the practice, but I ground by sending my etheric roots deep into Mother Earth. I spend a lot of time pulling weeds and I like to really look at roots when I do that. Many Witches imagine one deep tap root kind of root running from their bodies to Mother Earth. But my roots are more weedy. In addition to the tap root, lots of hairy smaller roots run into the acidic clay of my Bit of Earth here in northern Virginia. I’ve been grounding here, into this dirt, for almost a decade. And that has changed my grounding practice, as I think it should.

If it is true, as I think that it is, that to be a Witch is to be in deep relationship with your own landbase, your own watershed, your own foodshed, then the land should change your grounding practice over time. Any long-term relationship causes us to change, grow, adapt. And, so, when my roots slip into Mama Gaia, they encounter, and are glad to find, and twine around the roots of my particular oak, and magnolia, and cryptomeria trees. They re-enter into the physical space inhabited by the roots of the herbs in my herb bed, of the toad lilies just now blooming in the woodland garden, of the drancunculus vulgaris that are, even now, multiplying at the side of the shed. They slide gently past the chipmunk’s burrow, past worms sifting through the detritus of decaying mulch, past bacteria and fungi and molds. And that’s a different experience for me than the one that I have when I ground at my office, many floors above the marshy ground in Washington, D.C. or when I ground in an unfamiliar location.

I also find that the changing seasons change my experience of grounding. My roots find something different when they slip into ground that’s hard as iron due to Winter’s chill or when they move into Summery, sun-warmed soil. And they experience something different in here, in Autumn, when the trees and plants are preparing to slow all the way down for Winter, when the animals are on the move, either to store up food or to head down South where there will be warmer weather and more food.

Does location impact your experience of grounding? Do the seasons impact it? What helps you to ground?

Picture found here.

Thin Veil Pot-Pourri


*Is it breezy in here, or is it just me? My, the veils seem to be thinning at an amazing rate this near-to-Samhein season. And the energy from the Occupy movement seems to be calling to a number of interesting Ancestors. In my personal practice, the thinning veils call for careful attention to grounding. With my Sun in permeable Pisces, it would be too, too easy (and too, too tempting) to let myself drift too far through those open veils, too far down that misty road, too deep into that fairy hall in the hill. And, so, I get enough sleep. I try to eat right. I get on the treadmill. I balance time alone with time out in the world. I dig in the dirt and leave myself little reminders — an acorn on my desk at work, a flower in a vase by my bed, a tiny polished stone in my purse — to remind me to do what Ram Dass said: Be Here Now.

*”Our labors are witnesses for the living mystery.” Carl Jung, quoted in Ego and Archetype by Edward F. Edinger. Had a great conversation recently w/ a dear friend about how we can’t live our lives entirely focused on our inner processes, nor can we live our lives entirely directed towards the outer world. And, at some point, the feedback loop of doing both inner and outer work is far more effective than either process in isolation. It’s outer work — running for office, and deciding what compromises are worth making (some are, although I know it’s fashionable these days to decry all of them) and which aren’t, or working with the incredibly slow and sometimes frustrating process of consensus decision-making in the Occupy Movement, or rocking cranky babies — that gives us a chance to practice the inner work we’ve been doing of breathing, centering, learning to apply our True Will. And it’s inner work — setting aside time for a daily practice, doing shadow work, stopping throughout the day to reconnect to our Higher Selves — that allows us to be more effective when we confront Fox News, stop logging of old growth forests, let a homeless person know that they’re valued. Before enlightenment: chop wood & carry water. After enlightenment: chop wood & carry water. Where do you find the balance? Are you at a phase when it’s time to shift your emphasis from one mode to the other?

*Had lunch several days ago with the brilliant and deep Judith Laura. I’m reading her new book, Goddess Matters: the Mystical, Practical, & Controversial, about which a formal review in a few days. She takes on the lie that Goddess religions, because they do not have a set of rules, such as the Judeo-Christian Ten Commandments, lack ethics. Judith provides a list of her own Goddess guidelines:

Seek knowledge.
Revere wisdom.
Be joyful.
Know pleasure.
Love one another.
Protect life.
And live in peace.

+

Sounds about right to me. I’m also down with:

Let My worship be in the heart that rejoices, for behold, all acts of love and pleasure are My rituals.

Let there be beauty and strength, power and compassion, honor and humility, mirth and reverence within you.

And you who seek to know Me, know that the seeking and yearning will avail you not, unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without.

Charge of the Goddess.

Some ethical practices are better conveyed through poetry. In Evidence, Mary Oliver writes:

Mysteries, Yes
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the mouths of lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever in allegiance with gravity while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the scars of damage, to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say “Look!” and laugh in astonishment, and bow their heads.

*Literata has been doing some amazing blogging on the whole New Apostolic Reformation (NAR/DC40) attack on Pagans. If you aren’t reading her regularly, you should be. Here’s an example:

In [Dominionist] worldview, democracy is sort of a surface phenomenon. It can be used as a kludge when not everyone accepts their god-given place in the power dynamics (especially unbelievers). It can be used as a compromise, or a temporary expedient. But it’s not a long-lasting solution. It’s not a fundamental idea, it’s not something to work for, and ultimately, it’s un-biblical.

With that in mind, read what Wagner has to say about the roles of self-proclaimed apostles and prophets in the NAR:

WAGNER: “The Bible teaches that apostles – related to prophets and also teachers – should form the basis of the government of the church. Now, up till now, recently, most churches in America functioned on a democratic system, so that the authority in the churches and the authority in the denominations resided in groups of people.

And, of course, that’s what we’re used to politically in America, so that fits in very well with our culture. But in terms of the role of the apostle, one of the biggest changes from traditional churches to the New Apostolic Reformation is the amount of spiritual authority delegated by the Holy Spirit to individuals. And the two key words are authority and individuals, and individuals as contrasted to groups. So now, apostles have been raised up by God who have a tremendous authority in the churches of the New Apostolic Reformation. And I think this is the most radical difference between the old and the new.”

When he says, “that’s what we’re used to politically in America,” I hear the unspoken statement, “but that’s not the way it’s supposed to be.” When he talks about how the NAR’s authority structure is a “radical difference,” I connect that to the kind of “transformation” that he wants to see in American culture and American politics.

Wagner also made a point of saying that the NAR is “working with whatever political system there is” in each country it’s engaging. But he strictly disavows any mention that they want a “theocracy,” which he specifically links to states like Iran or like Constantine’s Rome. He is telling the truth there, but it’s a specific kind of truth based on his ideas about authority.

I believe him that he doesn’t want a “theocracy” where there’s an institutionalized church that runs the institutionalized state. He wants to meld the two, indistinguishably, because his religious ideas about authority and power are so all-encompassing that they would make a separate institutionalized government redundant.

She’s spot on, is a student of history, and always does her homework.

Anne Johnson has been interviewing a different “Bored God” every day, with a focus on the state under attack that day by NAR. If you haven’t yet read her interview with the Spirit of Ayahuasca, used by, primarily, Native Americans in their religious ceremonies, you don’t know what you’re missing.

Anne: Welcome, Ayahuasca! I’d offer you a cup of tea … but that’s what you are.

Ayahuasca: I’m not your cup of tea, though. You haven’t been initiated into the Mysteries.

Anne: So true. About the most adventurous I get is a vodka gimlet. But this isn’t about my religious experiences, it’s about America’s religious experiences. And You, o Sacred Ayahuasca, have been foully and cruelly treated! Everyone has heard the tale of the DEA agents bursting in on a ceremony of the Unaio do Vegetal praise and worship team in New Mexico. The agents pulled You right out of the priest’s kitchen and carted You off to the slammer. (Or in this case, the refrigerator.)

Ayahuasca: We took them to court. To the Supreme Court. And we won.

Anne: Damn right, you won! It’s called the First Amendment, and there’s a long and well-documented use of Ayahuasca tea in numerous religious paths originating in the Western Hemisphere. I was rooting for Unaio do Vegetal every step of the way.

Ayahuasca: Thank you. Here is how I look at it. You never see DEA agents bursting into a First Communion, confiscating the wine, and arresting the priests for serving alcoholic beverages to minors.

*The Occupy Movement has been training lots of people in the use of consensus decision making. That’s difficult work, both to teach and to learn. In honor of all of those teachers, learners, and users, I offer the following picture by Robert Bissell, entitled, The Decision:


(found here.)

*I had a delightful houseful (I have a tiny cottage, so it doesn’t take too many to make a houseful) of people over for brunch yesterday. Some were long-time friends, in town for OccupyDC, some were family, some were Witches and their spouses, some ( 😉 ) were Landscape Guy. Gemini Rising, there’s not much that I enjoy more than bringing interesting people together, feeding them, and listening to them talk. Consequently, I’d saved a long list of chores to be done today, but, in the end, I slept late, spent extra time on the treadmill, and drove up to Benkhe’s nursery, which I really did not need to do. But, as I said a few months ago: OPG. I bought some begonias for inside the kitchen windowsill, a tiny pot of succulents to keep on my desk all Winter when the sunlight comes as strong as can be through my Northern window, and a big blue pot for my office jade tree, which has needed repotting for some time.

*If I am related (by blood or experience) to you and you are beyond the Veils, this is a gentle reminder that you do NOT have a standing invitation to visit me every night in my dreams. Some of you, I didn’t even really like very much while you were alive, and I’m certain that I never wanted to sleep (in the prosaic (or other) sense) with all ya’ll. It’s going to be a long month. Go bother someone else. And, if you do show up, please remember to tell me where the money is buried, how much you really did love me even though you couldn’t say it, and to give me the recipes for stuffing and sweet pickles. The “you were not a very nice little girl” stuff you can save for L.L. She may care. And she really wasn’t.

+First published in Judith’s book: She Lives! The Return of Our Great Mother.

Picture found here.

Hair Eris! Hail Discordia!

Landscape Guy has a wonderful saying for those times when everything just seems to be going wrong: “The Moon must be in the House of Caca.”

I’m not sure that I’d go that far, but the last few days have made quite clear that Mercury is, indeed, in Retrograde. And, I’ll gladly blame Mercury for the odd computer glitches, the miscommunications, the travel hangups, the fact that, this afternoon, the guy at the deli asked me if I wanted lettuce and tomato on my BLT (Hecate: “Yes, please. Thank you. That would be lovely.” Then they gave it to me on whole wheat, when I’d asked for white. (I asked for a Stolichnia martini once and the waitress came back to my table and said, “We don’t have that vodka you asked for, but we have Stoli.” Hecate: “Yes, please. Thank you. That would be lovely.” A bit later the waitress came back. “Were you making fun of me?” Hecate: “No. Not at all.”)) etc. It doesn’t surprise me that the chaos gets turned up a notch during Mercury’s travel backwards.

But for the really big problems of our time (out of control corporatists, a weak, peevish president, a planet responding to centuries of abuse, riots in London that will cost more to clean up than would have simple social justice (hat tip: Susie Madrak,)) as the Bard explained in Julius Caesar, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars – But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” For “underlings,” I guess we can substitute: lazy, spoiled Americans who’d rather watch another episode of Dancing with the Stars (OK, we’re Pagans. I guess that I should substitute “Robin Hood,” or “Buffy,” or “True Blood” for DwtS) or head off to The Mall to buy more empty material promises of happiness than dig in and do the necessary work.” But the result is the same.

I think I was in my late twenties when I came to the (startling, for me) realization that many of the problems in my life were due, more than anything, to the fact that I kept wanting to pretend that things would work out even when, deep down, I knew they wouldn’t/couldn’t/probably shouldn’t. I won’t say that a lifetime of Disneyfied fairy tales and, later, bodice-ripper paperbacks, and, even later, New Age/New Thought tomes hadn’t given me reason to imagine that if I just believed “enough,” I could turn a sow’s ear (of a job, of a lover, of a relationship, of an organization) into a silk purse. But, in the end, those Candlewicks didn’t have to work too hard to make their sale. It took a few painful demonstrations (I can be a remarkably slow learner and then there’s the whole stubbornness that comes from a Moon in Taurus (so perhaps I can convince myself that the fault lies in, if not my stars, then my Moon)) for the universe to convince me that, generally, ignoring reality is not a very good idea.

And I think, in too many ways, that’s at the core of many of our major troubles. We know what needs to be done. It’s just that it’s so damn hard.

We know that deregulation leads to people who have to have “rape and pillage, then burn” tattooed on their forearms far more than it “encourages ‘innovation'”. We know that trickle down economics doesn’t even trickle (much less, gush) down. We know that you can’t continually shit where you eat without rather quickly being reduced to a diet of shit. We know that major recessions turn into depressions absent a WPA effort. We know that infrastructure crumbles unless you rebuild it. We know that we can’t treat teachers, police, and first responders like crap and expect to be supported in our old age by an educated next generation, to live in a safe society, or to be attended in the ambulance by someone who isn’t more worried about making their rent than they are about our medical care. We know that conducting the endless wars of empire is even less basis for a system of government than “strange women lying in ponds distributing swords.” We have, if nothing else, the benefit of a long, recorded history.

And, yet, we either allow ourselves to be beguiled one more time (this time it will be different; I really believe it this time) or we just can’t muster up the will to deal with reality. (And, Goddess knows,”the struggle” can be tiring, can feel thankless, can be difficult to maintain the face of teavangelical activism.) It’s easier for Obama to believe that if he just comes to DC as a “transformational” president, keeps trying to “reach out” in a spirit of “bipartisanship” to the Republicans, well, then “the culture of Washington” will “change” and, suddenly, it will all be OK. It’s easier for each of us to go on shopping at Walmart, watching tv, telling ourselves that someday we’ll “move to the country” and live in a lovely Pagan paradise. It’s easier to hope that maybe a technological miracle will come along and create energy at the same time that it removes carbon from the atmosphere. It’s easier to do a spell that will definitely, positively, surely this time give us the winning lottery numbers.

But, in fact (pace, Ms. Rich for being taken a bit out of context), “we can’t live like that: we take on everything at once before we’ve even begun to read or mark time; we’re forced to begin in the midst of the hard movement, the one already sounding as we are born.” We didn’t, entirely “start the fire. It was always burning, since the world’s been turning.” But, as we all really know, eventually, a poorly-built structure will crumble and someone will have to dig out from the ruins and begin the painful work of reconstruction. Eventually, you’ll have to leave the can-never-hold-a-job abusive partner, pay off all the bills s/he ran up, work two jobs to get things back on track, start over again (and the longer you wait, the more bills s/he’ll have run up). Eventually, we’ll have to restrain corporations, develop a reasonable method of sharing our resources, stop polluting our planet, find a way to restrain population.

Which is all a longer-than-I-planned wind-up to saying:

*Chaotic times makes it even more necessary for us to breathe. Ground. Center. Engage in a serious daily practice. The temptation is to ignore these as unnecessary luxuries now, while London, the stock market, the planet are burning. The truth is that chaos makes daily practice even more necessary. We are none of us so amazing that we can deal with this mess without breathing, grounding, centering, practicing.

*Now, in the middle of a Retrograde Mercury, is a wonderful time to go back and finish unfinished business. Straighten things out. Get your files in order. Stock your pantry. Darn those holy (and holey) socks. In the words of Westeros, “Winter’s Coming.” I don’t think anyone knows exactly when it’s coming, how long it will last, or how cold it will be. But you’re unlikely to regret having gotten your house in order.

*If you can grow any of your own food, or can barter a service (doing taxes, cleaning house, computer repair) to someone who does, do it now.

*Find one thing you can do to help to Repair The Web. Do it. Now. Keep doing it.

*And, in the end, for times when Eris and Discordia reign, I can’t offer better advice than Wendell Berry‘s:

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

May it be so for you.

Picture found here.