“…to come to ground is to begin the courageous conversation, to step into difficulty and by taking that first step, begin the movement through all difficulties, to find the support and foundation that has been beneath our feet all along: a place to step onto, a place on which to stand and a place from which to step.” David Whyte On a quiet afternoon a few months ago, as I painted my nails a soft brick shade in preparation of yet another week with travel, the colour tugged at
I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable and beautiful and afraid of nothing as though I had wings. ~ Mary Oliver It’s close to six weeks already into the new year and I’m enjoying how February always unfolds so prettily in Bangalore. Most mornings this past month have been filled with watching my new puppy, Rumi, romp around the garden chasing spring butterflies and chewing leaves, sticks and my slippers.
There is nourishment like bread that feeds one part of your life and nourishment like light for another. There are many rules about restraint with the former, but only one rule for the latter, Never be satisfied. Eat and drink the soul substance, as a wick does with the oil it soaks in. Give light to the company. ~ Rumi I am sitting outdoors in my cousin sister’s house in this pretty corner of northern California called Pleasant Hill, soaking in the warm spring sunshine. Her
The Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?
Alice: I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.
A tiny finger-sized bird the colour of a frothy cappuccino is making a nest outside my bedroom window. She wakes me up at the crack of dawn every morning with her bright warbles, tapping on the glass, as if to say will you wake up and watch me!? Then she drops into such a fast dive that the first time I saw it happen, I gasped and laughed out l
On a day when the wind is perfect, the sail just needs to open and the world is full of beauty. Today is such a day. – Rumi Mornings find me sitting on the steps of our back verandah, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of Darjeeling tea, watching squirrels tumble down trees and chase each other across the lawn. September mornings in Bangalore have been for the most part gloriously wet and windy. As clouds shimmer overhead with the promise of more rain, the sun’s rays peep