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The Healing Power of Writing

Hi! Welcome to the Joy of Miracles.

To write is to uncover, to unhide, to bring to light, and express what is within. To share is the end of all private thoughts, all shame, all guilt, all pain and separation. Here is all Joy found at last! Writing helps us to repeat, focus, choose, and remember ideas. The purpose of this writing is healing for all of us.

This blog is inspired by "A Course in Miracles"and The Work of Byron Katie. You are invited to share your comments by clicking on the word "comment" at the end of each post. If you scroll way down there's a little info about me and also an archive of past writing you can view by clicking on the title. Thanks so much for visiting...

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Thursday, October 30, 2014

false images

do not worship idols

do not invest,
put your heart
into false images
or you will suffer

don't invest yourself
in a fantasy

see the arrogance of it,
you were mistaught

do not doubt
your capacity
to unlearn,
(do This Work),
when you have created an entire world,
made hell out of Heaven,
killed God/Love
find hurt where there is none,
see danger while sitting safely
on your living room couch

the Judge Your Neighbor Worksheet
is a clear picture of your false images,
the way we want it to be,
how he should be

every time you hurt
notice the false image--
the one that isn't,
that doesn't exist

(it's called comparison--
reality and a false image)

if you worship a false god
you will hurt
because you can never have
what isn't

Sunday, October 26, 2014

you have arrived

I am the doorway
for the traveler to pass through

you have arrived
at the place you were always seeking,
where you can unload it all

not even a body
to weigh you down

oh yes,
the mercy of Heaven is real indeed, sister,
real indeed!

I am the Sanctuary
to worship
the free

no laws
no rules
no back and forth

you have passed through

you have seen at last
that you
can never be
contained in a thought,

only that thoughts
appear and disappear in You

I am
the doorway to Love

come in,
and roast!


I am
the Refuge

I am the state of mind
where all
the crying of the world,
the moaning,
the shrieking damnation
is given rest

Oh come, weary ancient thoughts,
dearest children who have bumped your knee,
bumped into a thoughtvalanche,
a mountain
of seeming no escape,
the tension of walking a tightrope
day after day after day...

I am
the Refuge

I am
the wake
of your suffering

It is here
your suffering can finally be laid to rest

She never did
protect you

I am
the Refuge

as you enter the Safe Space
archaic weapons
simply gather dust
in the corner

oh so much easier to whirl
without a cannon
'round my neck!

laughter is so natural
looking back

I am
the Refuge

come, Sweethearts, come

Saturday, October 25, 2014


be gentle
with the insane

are terribly frightened

am lost,
wished dead
by my Mother,
by all the Universe,

how wretched a mind
to cohabit

Oh Dearest,
be gentle today,
with your self,
and every soul who passed through
your mind,

every criminal,
the most wretched
of the earth,

be gentle, honey

no agenda

how very miniscule the world is,
all the reaches of the stars
throughout all of time,
compared with one instant of stillness.

no one comes
to go

no thing comes
to pass

no stair well,
no ladder,
to Heaven
nor to hell

without an agenda...
let this be, dear one,

that is all

let it be,

without an agenda...

that is all

the all encompassing truth,
where ever you look,
whatever direction
you can possibly imagine

God is...
prior to "you"

Get close to you

i don't know 
why geese fly south

why the north is cold 
or deserts hot
or cowboys are from the west

i only know
that everyone on this planet wants a rest
from weary travelers
of mind

so long on the road 
so long the caravans laden with boxes
tomorrow will be better,
down the road,
over there,
in HIS shoes,
or her body,
of if i had that face,
or that corporation's money,
or the military's power,

oh soldier, 
you do!

this universe 
within you
is your resting place

behind each symbol,
behind death and unfairness,
the most unfair bitter taste
in my mouth

is Heaven

look closely, dear One,
come very very close
to this mirror,
get as close as you possibly can,
every freckle, whisker, crevas.
magnify it, open it, take it apart
and see the

all it ever
wanted was the awareness of Love

it was your hiding place
from Love

now the cat IS
out of the bag.

The moment you see
your dearest Self wholly unharmed
by any condition ever

is the end of all illusion

the trick didn't work.

is not reality

i don't need a black hat
to hug my bunny

she is already.

Only Love.

Look closely at every hiding place
and you will find it.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

the perfect chair

Feel the kindness of the chair,
it cradles you,
cushions you,
supports your back,
insulates you from the cold of the floor,
absorbs the warmth of the sun for you

completely silent,
ever still

100% service
so willing
so humble
so patient

i will be still a lifetime,
i need be nothing but a chair,
not a flower, nor a bird, nor a cat, nor a roaring locomotive!

no, to be what i am
is the highest nobilitiy

to be
that which i am

for to be what i am not
is to surely fail

to step
one inch away
from what i am,
to set one eye on my brother's collar,
to desire one tiny hair

is death.

death at my own hand.

set your eye
on your own heart
feet, hands

feel the kindness
you are

the kindness
you are

the only life
there is

no one else's life
is yours

feel the kindness in this

you are in the perfect place,
time, space

you are sitting in the perfect chair
for you

it makes perfect sense

anything else is non-sense


Feel the kindness of the chair.
It's not inanimate.
Nothing could be more alive than Love.
Feel the kindness of the air,
the kindness of your skin,
of paper and pen.

Notice what it took to make the "pen"!
all the men and women,
factory... all the construction workers, materials, resources...
steel for spring
paper packaging, trees, water, sun, soil, earth
trucks and truckers
to name a few...

no little thing,
"a pen", is it true?
or is it a Force,
a power of
truckstops and coffee and waitresses and laughter and jokes and gasoline and oil wells and rigs
and oceans and tankers and dolphins...and steel mills in "Indiana"...

a Force so powerful
all these seemingly "separate"
never could possibly be separate

a Force so powerful,
one cell,
every single cell,
is the power
of the Whole

Perhaps the Answer is the very lowest, most humble cell--
the truth that all cells are equal under God,
all cells are love,
all cells are wholly serving.

There is not one cell who would be greater than another.
Only Love.
That dances
and dances
and dances

with no will of its own.

Where would this single cell go off to?

It's church is here.
It's church is now.
It's light is ON.

Feel the 

Love is The Answer

Love is the Master Teacher,
it is love that walks on water,
finds fish where there are none,
cuts the one loaf to feed a thousand.

one taste of true love
and the ground literally
rises up to carry you
the appointed way,
to the appointed people,

one taste of true love,
and the professor vanishes from sight,
no one to profess to,
no one you would make wrong,
only love on every face, tree, cloud,
and what can one possibly profess
to that which is beyond all words,
and beyond all limits

one taste of true love,
and all of time is undone

oh yes, friend,
Love is the Answer

one taste of true love
and there is nothing else
which can ever stand

love is the under-stand

Love is the Answer
to every question,
every problem,
every doubt,
every di-lemna,
every di-vergence.

Re-turn to Now,
to what you K now.

Love is the Answer.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

a leaf

can you do what a leaf does,
for just a moment?

to let yourself be carried
by the flow


zero control

no paddles

no steering wheel

zero opposition

zero separate will

simply be carried


as you are already.

can you give up
taking credit
for any of it?


i'm nothing,

no thing 
i can see

no sense can tell me
a thing
about what i am

i am

no image--
need nothing
want nothing
should nothing--
no will apart from what is:

worship not the visible,
it is not worthy of You,
it will fail you

the invisible 
cannot be hurt
or killed
or even touched

your brother is not visible either

no appearance will ever satisfy

are invisible

who can divide the invisible?
it is but a joke.

no one needs to see you,
nor can see you

what you are does not depend
on others

there is nothing you can do
to get closer to what you are
or be more
than what you are 

stop trying to be seen.
You are invisible.

seek no more
to look good.
You are invisible.

all comparison
is (false) images

ANY image you have
of yourself is a lie.

You are invisible.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

praise on low

there's a sweet song
a singing,
the melodious enter prizes
that suddenly appear
and then shift
into shadows

smirking at
the bait taker,
rhapsody in blues,
yellow and greener is the grass,
greener is your meadow--
oh dear brother,
it hurts so to see
technicolor over there,

way over yonder,
the heart that left Home
is oh but a lonely fantasy

fantasia is only undone
when you touch the grass
you sit upon
and see,
really, really see
this miracle
at your feet,
of your feet

praise on low!
the lowest of the lowly,
is here
at your feet--
even this
is the piece,
the peace,
of the Master

let the door but swing

welcome Home,
dear Heart

it is you,
that is forever

there's a sweet song
a singing,
a melodious inner prize,
right here,

ever hear

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Miss Identity

Miss Identity
dropped her key,
and couldn't find her Self

someone found it in the gutter
and thought they now could be
someone else,
and start a new life...

isn't it funny
what a short life we have?
here today and gone tomorrow,
and even shorter--
just this one thought, gone now,
gone forever...

the key to the past
does not open this door

This One is
wide open,
without a 'you'
that ever was before

Miss Identity,
lost her name,
and people
thought they knew her,
for sure

but it was only themselves
they wrote on her

was forever
a wide open door...

Friday, October 3, 2014

death is holy

the happy dream
holds flowers

and life,
and death,
that is not evil,
but holy,

who would choose
to remain in a box,
an eggshell,

limitlessness is natural

who would keep studying
the alphabet
when the writing is on the wall?


is but another name
for unexamined,

for distance,

haven't looked yet--

you turned away,
to avoid,
to run

sit you still now
and watch the reflection
do the same

the wild eye
not so

the pounding heart
not so

the whoosh of hysteria
not so

how tame the "monster"
exactly as still
as you

not one hair different

she is at home
with you

nothing strange--
not a stranger
when You
look her in the eye

there is nothing hidden here.
it's all face value.
that you
have turned around.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014


when silent tendrils lay awake
the moon through the window shown

how delicate
this nature is--
can't be told at all--

like a baby's skin
the words cannot approach,
cannot approach
the miracle
you hold 
in your arms

halt the input

all things you reach for will never satisfy

halt the input
and notice what is

see the image through the glass,
there is someone home already.
notice the House is full,
the hearth warm,
the fire roasting,
there is no need to bring in
a shoulder to cry on

feel the fullness

halt the should
and notice how she does dance

notice there are wings and tails already

notice that she fell on her face,
crashed and tore all the skin
off her life,
bashed her bloody heart,
waded in the cattails,
was struck by lightening
and thunder that tried to deafen...

and notice how
in the mourning she sang!
in the morning the sun did rise
every bit as bright
as the day before she was born

notice that nothing ever layed
her lower than anything else

notice she never scored a goal
of another
and was fine tuned
to her own interior

notice this one that had no name,
yet answered to one,
left each mark on the pavement
with abandon,
never to return to that moment again.

the past could not skin her a second time.

it might have looked her in the  mirror,
but the second time was seen as a rerun
and didn't quite have the shock value
it's maker wished

the walls crumble
when you no longer need the house

halt the input
and you might just notice
the Unspeakable

About Me

My photo
I have been a student of A Course in Miracles since 1986. It has helped me tremendously to be a happier person by helping me change my perception of everything. I have found writing to be very helpful in the process of practicing, experiencing, and living the ideas in the Course. In 2006 I started sharing inspiration from the Course with a friend. Now it is a joy to share it with everyone. In 2009, The Work of Byron Katie found me at a woman's group. The Work is a way to identify and question your stressfuI beliefs. I dove right in and in April 2013 became a Certified Facilitator of The Work of Byron Katie. I work with people privately and offer online classes. Please visit for more information. I also still occasionally lead the 11am Sunday Gathering at the Rocky Mountain Miracles Center in Denver. For more information


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