Dear secret haiku writer,

April is national poetry month. Since 2010, I’ve been inviting a friend or two, or more, to write a poem a day in April of each year. The only dictate we’ve had – and somewhat loosely kept – is that the poem doesn’t have to be good, it just has to be contributed.

Whether tongue-in-cheek, unfinished, nonsense rhyme, uninspired or brilliant… any and all are welcome and it’s the effort that is valued. Though you get admired when you’re good, it’s sometimes the lessor efforts that get you to that.

It’s surprising, in fact, how many times an inspired poem comes as a result of simply making the effort consistently. Most years, my oldest son has participated, with rest of the group being different friends each year. I limit the group to 5 or six people; sometimes it’s been 2 or 3, and twice I decided to just do it solo, writing for specific personal reasons. (more…)

On my walk today a feather drifted down right in front of me. It tickled me on the nose. When I looked up, there was no bird in the sky at that moment so perhaps it had already flown by.

Returning home in time for my afternoon meditation and contemplation, I opened a small book called Devotions, Prayers and Living Wisdom of Hildegard of Bingen, edited by Mirabai Starr.

It opened to Chapter Three to a story called, The Feather. Doesn’t that just make you smile? Since my plan was to write this article after my meditation, I decided it’s perfect to share with you today.

The Feather

One morning, the abbess (Hildegard) was leaning out the window of her cell, overlooking the Rhine. A breath of wind fluttered her veil and carried the scent of water to her face. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. (more…)

Article Highlights

• This is your brain on survival
• Survival r us
• An Epic negative human tendency

Dear ,

I got to meet my survival self head-on, literally, one morning in New Zealand, 1996 or so.  I rushed in to the bathroom in my hotel room, slipping on the wet floor.  I launched through the air and fiercely smashed the side of my head against a brass doorknob.  It knocked me out.

As a neuro-specialist later told me, my neocortex, or thinking brain, was stunned and non-functioning so my physical operation was taken over by the so-called “reptilian” brain” and limbic system.  I was now in pure survival brain mode.

When I came to I had no consciousness as myself – this operates through the neocortex or thinking brain.  I only had awareness of being endangered, cold, shaking and I felt terrified of a bad noise in the sky.  There was no “self” awareness, just an urgent instinct to seek warmth and safety. (more…)