The Questions of The Mouse
(Piece from the children's book)
One day in summer a little mouse and a hedgehog sat on the grass under a tree.
The little mouse wondered: What is it all about?
Is it all about....
Collecting as many nuts as possible, so you can save them for when you are old?
Traveling as often as possible and as far as possible, so you can return home?
Making as many friends as possible,
So you’re never alone?
Or learning as much as possible,
So you know everything.
Or is it maybe that you do as little as possible,
So you do not get tired?
The hedgehog sat silently next to the little mouse and thought,
thought,
And Thought,
And finally said: It is about giving attention!
Giving attention? Asked the little mouse, for what?
Giving attention to the nuts you collect,
Giving attention to the trips you make,
Giving attention (love and care)
to the friends you have
Giving attention to the things you learn (hear, see, read)
And when doing nothing, to do just that, doing nothing, said the hedgehog.
The mouse smiled.
As much as possible?
As much as possible.
Walk Slowly By Danna Faulds
It only takes a reminder to breathe,
A moment to be still, and just like that,
something in me settles, softens, makes
space for imperfection. The harsh voice
of judgement drops to a whisper and I
remember again that life isn't a relay
race; that we all cross the finish
line; that waking up to life is what we
were born for. As many times as I
forget, catch myself charging forward
without even knowing where I am going,
that many times we can make the choice
to stop, to breathe, and be and walk
slowly in the mystery.
Allow By Danna Faulds
There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado. Dam a
stream and it will create a new
channel. Resist, and the tide
will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry
you to higher ground. The only
safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild and the weak; fear,
fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of
the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your
known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.
The Cookie Thief by Valerie Cox
A woman was waiting at an airport one night, with several long hours before her flight. She hunted for a book in the airport shops, bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop.
She was engrossed in her book but happened to see, that the man sitting beside her, as bold as could be. . .grabbed a cookie or two from the bag in between, which she tried to ignore to avoid a scene.
So she munched the cookies and watched the clock, as the gutsy cookie thief diminished her stock. She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by, thinking, “If I wasn’t so nice, I would blacken his eye.”
With each cookie she took, he took one too, when only one was left, she wondered what he would do. With a smile on his face, and a nervous laugh, he took the last cookie and broke it in half.
He offered her half, as he ate the other, she snatched it from him and thought… oooh, brother. This guy has some nerve and he’s also rude, why he didn’t even show any gratitude!
She had never known when she had been so galled, and sighed with relief when her flight was called. She gathered her belongings and headed to the gate, refusing to look back at the thieving ingrate.
She boarded the plane, and sank in her seat, then she sought her book, which was almost complete. As she reached in her baggage, she gasped with surprise, there was her bag of cookies, in front of her eyes.
If mine are here, she moaned in despair, the others were his, and he tried to share. Too late to apologize, she realized with grief, that she was the rude one, the ingrate, the thief.
The Journey- By Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.
It’s ok to soften-by Rebecca Campbell
You don’t need to suffer in order to succeed.
You don’t need to strive in order to make things happen.
You don’t need to hold it all together.
You will become stronger, even as you soften.
You may even be more supported, as you stop and yield.
When we loosen our grip,
What is truly meant for us will stay,
That which isn’t will gradually slip away.
Love after Love by Derek Walcott
The time will come when, with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror and each will smile at the other's welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.
