are you with child?
then be you praised
for carrying with you
this so precious
innocence
holiness,
perfect clarity
that cannot
be dimmed
no tale can be but as a branch across the moon,
no tail but wags at the happy ending of itself
this innocence,
oh unspeakable innocence
in every word,
beyond every word
without any word
this child you carry,
praise praise
for this child
you carry
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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Monday, November 30, 2015
Saturday, November 28, 2015
humility
in the world,
but not of it
i step back
and find myself
on the ground
next to the humblest of fountains:
i know not one thing,
not one
not even what i am,
the authority costume
lays empty
beside me
what a holy altar
this vast night sky,
this spaceless Space
of i don't know
but not of it
i step back
and find myself
on the ground
next to the humblest of fountains:
i know not one thing,
not one
not even what i am,
the authority costume
lays empty
beside me
what a holy altar
this vast night sky,
this spaceless Space
of i don't know
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Thank you
the sweetest woman
in the world
met me at the door today,
"is it true?"
she asked
as each wave
came to the shore,
crashed and fell back into itself,
and 1000 drops sprayed up
into the air
"is it true?"
and the glass fractured
into a million shards,
and fell slow motion
as the sunlight
caught each edge
"is it true?"
and the oxygen
could once more
reach the cells
yes, the sweetest woman,
the Grand Mother
offered
the sweetest question
to each of her children
and each one
fell down
before Her
in the world
met me at the door today,
"is it true?"
she asked
as each wave
came to the shore,
crashed and fell back into itself,
and 1000 drops sprayed up
into the air
"is it true?"
and the glass fractured
into a million shards,
and fell slow motion
as the sunlight
caught each edge
"is it true?"
and the oxygen
could once more
reach the cells
yes, the sweetest woman,
the Grand Mother
offered
the sweetest question
to each of her children
and each one
fell down
before Her
Friday, November 20, 2015
fun-conomy
fun-conomy
where it's fun
to give
to shine
your light
that you can SEE
the gifts
coming to you
for free
pure grace
the earth,
texture,
the kiss of skin
the reverence
of toes
making love
with warm silky sand
warm sock
in the night
touching the bark
it was made
for you
in this very moment
oh grace
oh grace
oh grace
thank you
nothing
that is not
precious
where it's fun
to give
to shine
your light
that you can SEE
the gifts
coming to you
for free
pure grace
the earth,
texture,
the kiss of skin
the reverence
of toes
making love
with warm silky sand
warm sock
in the night
touching the bark
it was made
for you
in this very moment
oh grace
oh grace
oh grace
thank you
nothing
that is not
precious
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
(Sitting with: Dear Joy, I'm sorry I was so scared.....)
I understand.
It simply was.
We believe what we do...until we don't.
It's ok to fear.
How else do you know it's a mistake (perception, belief)?
the ocean of fear
motors the lifeboat on its way—
speeds the truth to arrive
motors the lifeboat on its way—
speeds the truth to arrive
the shrapnel vanishes
when truth dawns
when truth dawns
fear can never change
what you are!
what you are!
out of your experience
of fear is birthed
your ability to embrace others
in their darkest night
and hold the light
of fear is birthed
your ability to embrace others
in their darkest night
and hold the light
when you fear fear
no more,
your safety is assured,
your step steady
on the path Home
no more,
your safety is assured,
your step steady
on the path Home
this is what
growing up means,
we are not so easily spooked,
we see it is false images and not reality,
we finally see
there is no need to flinch
growing up means,
we are not so easily spooked,
we see it is false images and not reality,
we finally see
there is no need to flinch
can you...
can you imagine
the utter lack
of lack?
dolls spinning on their heels
without your documenting
one cringle,
not afraid of a "curve",
no censoring
of shapes and sounds!
Siberian Huskies
flouncing on the beach
in Miami
are they really refugees?
or immigrants?
or simply
free to walk the world?
honestly,
what insane idea
deems that a body
can only and must
remain stationary?
isn't that a bit lack lustre?
and you call yourself a "leader"?
can you really say that
and hold a straight face?
can you imagine
the utter lack
of "lack"?
the utter lack
of lack?
dolls spinning on their heels
without your documenting
one cringle,
not afraid of a "curve",
no censoring
of shapes and sounds!
Siberian Huskies
flouncing on the beach
in Miami
are they really refugees?
or immigrants?
or simply
free to walk the world?
honestly,
what insane idea
deems that a body
can only and must
remain stationary?
isn't that a bit lack lustre?
and you call yourself a "leader"?
can you really say that
and hold a straight face?
can you imagine
the utter lack
of "lack"?
Monday, November 2, 2015
no one knows
No one knows
the way of the mother,
the son to be
the breath that moves her wings
no one knows
the way the wind will blow
feathers do ruffle,
lightening strikes
and thunder storms
no one knows
the way of the mother,
which hole the earthworm
will emerge from
there WAS no “other” way
it “should have been”;
no plan written
somewhere in an old library
the way this cherub rubbed
was all right
and mother’s song
is still
heard
in the silence of the night
i love
i learn
and there is
but one
baby
can you love this one?
can you love this one?
the way of the mother,
the son to be
the breath that moves her wings
no one knows
the way the wind will blow
feathers do ruffle,
lightening strikes
and thunder storms
no one knows
the way of the mother,
which hole the earthworm
will emerge from
there WAS no “other” way
it “should have been”;
no plan written
somewhere in an old library
the way this cherub rubbed
was all right
and mother’s song
is still
heard
in the silence of the night
i love
i learn
and there is
but one
baby
can you love this one?
can you love this one?
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About Me
- Joy Schultz
- 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 www.joyofthework.com for more information. I also still occasionally lead the 11am Sunday Gathering at the Rocky Mountain Miracles Center in Denver. For more information http://www.miraclescenter.org/