22 April

Listen Up. Fear Prayer: You Are Alive. You Are Here.

by Jon Katz
Fear Prayer. Listen Up

Are you afraid?

Of those voices,

That tell you that you are not enough.

Do you believe the lies?

About what is safe.

What it means to be secure.

To have work that you love.

What you need to grow up,

and be older?

To be healthy.

All for money. Cash or credit.

Are you enslaved?

Do you see the prison, you are in?

The jail. Do you wish to stay there?

Would you accept an invitation to break out,

to be free again?

Would you be the Admiral of your soul, the General of your destiny?

Then summon the powerful army of you.

Call up the angel who lives in your heart,

who rings her crystal bells to awaken you, to call you to your sweet life?

And your spirit, who dances the Tango in all of the doorways of your life?

And the soaring music, that lifts your heart, and twirls it in the great dance?

And the magic, that puts a hissing wand into your hand,

and blows all of their lies about your life away?

And the creative spark, sacred inside of you, waiting to tell your story to the world?

Can you see that your army is so much stronger than theirs,

which cannot love? Has no angels. Hears no music. Knows no love. Dances in no doorways. Hopes for nothing.

My  friend, do you see that determination is the greatest form of courage,

the most powerful of things.

Listen Up.  Get on with it. You are alive. You are here.

 

22 April

Retreat. Thinking, Walking

by Jon Katz
In the silence

In our world, silence is disorienting, rare, sometimes impossible. Even on my beautiful farm, there is noise – trucks, motorcycles, tractors, birds, furnaces, wood stoves, appliances, computers. On the retreat, there was no noise. Even at meals with the other people, there was only the sound of knives and forks clanking against places. We sat for hours, walked for hours, melted deeper into ourselves. Creative things came up for me – stories, poems, photos, ideas. Maria and I held hands to connect and walked for hours into the deep and beautiful Vermont woods. This was our path, the only photo I took.

22 April

Retreat

by Jon Katz
Retreat

This was my second silent retreat – this one for two days, not four – and Maria and I both needed it. We were in silence from Friday to Sunday afternoon (I returned, as all of us do,  to a blizzard of bills, e-mails, messages, packages, chores) and this is a valuable, precious experience. No cell phones, Ipads, computers. No conversation, not even during meals. I looked inward, and saw a person in transition. I gave thanks for the great progress I have made in moving beyond the fear that gripped me for so much of my life. I remember awful fear during last year’s retreat. Sometimes, in the silence, fearful things bubble up, old things.  I return to a world that is changing for me, and for Maria. The farm is on the market, change and rebirth are everywhere. In the morning, I will post the news about the New Bedlam Farm – just making sure the owners say it is okay for me to do that.

I wrote some poems at the retreat – it is very good for that – and I will post one or two of them also. Poetry, like photography, is rising up in me. Poems dancing in my head. I had a strong sensation of a good creative year ahead of me, and when I got home, the final manuscript for my first original E-Book, “Rose” (we don’t exactly have a title yet) and edited version of my fourth children’s book, “Simon Says Good Night.”  “Dancing Dogs,”  my first short-story collection is all done, and out in September. I am excited about this year.  Glad to be back. More later.

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