Uphill idealist

Image found at Virtual Tourist Dan Dan the shoe shine man approached us in a crowd. He said, “I’m Dan Dan the shoe shine man. I’ll shine your shoes. I bet I can guess where you got your shoes.” From his demeanor and appearance, Dan Dan the shoe shine man seemed street smart and determined. He spoke quickly and smiled wide. He implored to my husband, “You need a shoe shine! I bet I can tell you where you got your shoes. $10.00 a shoe if I tell you where you got them!” My husband smiled waiting for Dan to tell us where his shoes were from as he bent down to spray and buff his sneakers. Dan stood up tall and proud and said, “You Sir has your shoes on your feet! That will be $20.00!” As soon as my husband handed Dan Dan the shoe shine man his $20.00 he was gone into the crowd. Dan was a few dollars richer and we both were a little more street smart. Dan Dan the shoe shine man (and his muscular buddy who was watching from a few feet away to assure he got his payment), were devo

Over the last 6 months, I've been following Abby of the Arts in hopes of becoming more in step with their practices described as the "Monk Manifesto". While I don't always (or even often) seem to get the steps right, my heart is always uplifted when I stop by for a visit. These practices, first introduced to me in Christine Valters Painter's book, "The Artist's Rule" resound within me and shout,"This is lifegiving!". But, somehow, I continue to struggle, juggle and fret - when I walk away from this gentle, growing, faith. Maybe if we walk/dance together, I won't wander away so easily? Then again, each day - "Always we begin again." Shalom -  Tara The following material is from the website: Abby of the Arts . Now all I need is a badge to put here on my blog to keep me (and others) tagged in on the Abby. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Mo

There is a passage lush with moss,damp from morning dew that calls me to step across the threshold into something new. The things I've known catch on my sleeves and pant legs like prickers on already harvested black berry bushes. They pull, scratch, and demand I stay past the harvest; to only see glimpses of cool green just beyond gate. I've peeked over the wall to that garden, and it looks like a place I might want to call home; if only there was time to make it just that - home. It's no mistake that the grass is sometimes greener. I've seen that cool, restful plot and laid my hope in that space that separates me from what is and what is yet to be. The gate is unlocked, yet I keep thinking I'm left outside of this garden. Moving heart-heavy feet across the green to the greener can take some effort.  Just beyond that threshold is all the new, the in-progress, and not quite comfortable yet.  Inhale. Exhale.  Lift a left foot, then the right. Step by step, g