News from the Unscripted Self

As you expect God to be more generous, God will be able to be more generous to you,

Julia Cameron.

The Snogging Issue!

I think it’s no secret that I love poetry, and with Valentine’s just passed I feel in the mood to indulge a little. So I’m devoting this entire Soundings to the art of rhyme.

Poets are ordinary people who just listen to their intuition more than the rest of us.

If it’s true, as they say, that the eyes are the windows of the soul, then surely the tongue is its doorway.

I’ll begin with a piece by my friend Shazia, who sent me this short inspiring poem, on mortality.

In life I hope to meet two souls
Each one unique
One who braves deaths embrace
The other craves an immortal race
Which to win his wish one day
In truth, both must face a mortals fate
One too soon, and the other late

I think that’s beautiful.

This one, by Ambika Wauters, is appropriately called,

Love

I love and accept myself just as I am,
I am perfectly myself and love the me I know myself to be.
I forgive the past in love and release pain, doubt and fear;
Love is my reason for living,
I love freely and unconditionally,
Love opens me to new realms of being;
Love is the centre of my life,
I choose to love.
I trust in love.
I give myself the greatest share of my own love;
Love moves through me and connects me with the source of life,
Love heals me and sets my spirit free.

I particularly like the line ‘I give myself the greatest share of my own love’, that’s what everyone forgets to do!

Be Inspired!

William Wordsworth (1770-1850) is another of my favourite poets. He was part of the movement known as the Nature poets, or Naturalists, which was about more than pretty flowers and sunrises. Instead it tried, by use of the imagination, to elicit something out of nature, something that the desultory eye misses, something divine even. When we use the imagination thus it can translate that inspiration into anything; a new business, instituting a scheme to alleviate hunger in the Third world, or a poem.

Wordsworth’s ‘Lucy poems’, while ostensibly love poems, addresses that deep instinctive truth in the human soul, often called intuition. Lucy is, of course, the light.

Song

She dwelt among th’ untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love.

A Violet by a mossy Stone
Half-hidden from the Eye!
_Fair as a star when only one
Is shining in the sky!

She liv’d unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceas’d to be;
But she is in her Grave, and, oh!
The difference to me.

This Month’s Reading

I’m actually gathering stuff on this subject at the mo, so if you’ve ever had a NDE yourself, or even if you think you had (!) then hit me!

Distant Healing

“While I’m writing, I’m far away;
and when I’ve come back, I’ve gone.”
Pablo Neruda

Don’t forget any NDE stories you have – your own – deeply appreciated as always





Take care,