life
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Impermanence
Even the finest things,those we treasure most,are meant to fray, unravel and pass away: my grandmother's hand-stitched coverlet, the scarf I knitted for my mother in third grade, my father's favorite flannel shirt, friendships, … Continue reading
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The Passion Is Enough
She pops up unexpectedly–beneath the darkening canopy of treesin the deep woods,from behind a stack of boxesin a corner of the basement,or like now,in a quiet gallery at the back of the art museum: "Beautiful, yes?" "It is," I answer.… Continue reading
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Dream
And as I dreamed,my skin dissolvedand I expanded,spread outward,a being of refracted lightsurrounded by beings of refracted light,no longer divided entitiesbut all part of a greater, glittering, interconnected whole. I knew my separate selfas illusion,and this wondrous, webbed oneness as life, … Continue reading
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Through Me
Life, live through me, not shame, for shame drives us to cut ourselves, not fear, for fear drives us to cut others, not perfection, for perfection drives us to… Continue reading
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Trust Life
My parents raised meto distrust life.Despite their religious grounding–or perhaps because of it–life loomed, imperiously sinister. "The world's a horrible place, and we are horrible people." Enough. I shall trust life.I shall affirm and embracethe peace and loveat… Continue reading
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How We Live
Your perceptionscreatethe world you experience. Perceive the worldas evil, threatening and cruel,and you will live in a worldof danger, fear, suspicion and defensiveness. Perceive the worldas welcoming, generous and sustainingand you will live in a worldof creativity, compassion, joy and… Continue reading
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Life is the strugglebetween Ego and Stillness. Chin up, my friend:Stillness wins. Or more precisely,only Stillness is. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading
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Sermon in the Park, Part 2
The homeless guys,with their parked shopping cartsand scraggly, gray beards,nod as he speaks. "You can cling to the cross,with its dried blood and splinters,or you can come dancing with me." I feel safestwith my face pressed against rough wood,cheeks bleeding.When… Continue reading
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She returns to the houseafter the funeral,alone for the first timein weeks.She exhales onto the couch;a sadness of flowerssurrounds her. This is the silencethat is not silence: the refrigerator hums; the traffic grumbles; her heart beats. This… Continue reading