Obiter Dictum

Notes on the adventure of life.

A PRAYER FOR THE LIVING

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Life,

Break in me whatever needs to be broken.

Fix my hope of ever being fixed.

Use me. Draw every ounce of creativity out of me. Help me live a radically unique life, forever forging a never-before-trodden path in the forest.

Show me how to love more deeply than I ever thought possible.

Whatever I am still turning away from, keep shoving in my face.

Whatever I am still at war with, help me soften towards, relax into, fully embrace.

Where my heart is still closed, show me a way to open it without violence.

Where I am still holding on, help me let go.

Give me challenges and struggles and seemingly insurmountable obstacles, if that will bring an even deeper humility and trust in the intelligence of life.

Help me laugh at my own seriousness.

Allow me to find the humour in the dark places.

Show me a profound sense of rest in the midst of the storm.

Don’t spare me from the truth. Ever.

Let gratitude be my guide.

Let forgiveness be my mantra.

Let this moment be a constant companion.

Let me see your face in every face.

Let me feel your warm presence in my own presence.

Hold me when I stumble.

Breathe me when I cannot breathe.

Let me die living, not live dying.

Amen.

– Jeff Foster

Written by sabineclappaert

July 18, 2017 at 6:57 pm

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Poetry

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poetry

Written by sabineclappaert

July 13, 2017 at 8:03 pm

Note to self

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Everything is energy. You have felt that all along. What makes you sad is that people so often deny the existence of that energy. That we are taught the importance of the stuff on top of the energy. That we are taught to find the truth there.

Coaches coach symptoms. The stuff “on top”. Not the energy. We seldom acknowledge the energy.

Today I rediscovered my truth. What I knew all along: the truth lies in the energy.

(Notes from Alan Seale’s TPLC course, March 2017)

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Photo: Frances Dunn

Written by sabineclappaert

June 17, 2017 at 4:59 pm

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Who will speak for the birds when the trees are no longer there?

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Written by sabineclappaert

June 17, 2017 at 4:50 pm

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Midlife

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”I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear:
I’m not screwing around. It’s time. All of this pretending and performing – these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt – has to go.
Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever.
Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.”
Brené Brown

Written by sabineclappaert

May 30, 2017 at 8:40 pm

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Start Close In.

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Start close in,
don’t take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.

Start with
the ground
you know,
the pale ground
beneath your feet,
your own
way to begin
the conversation.

Start with your own
question,
give up on other
people’s questions,
don’t let them
smother something
simple.

To hear
another’s voice,
follow
your own voice,
wait until
that voice

becomes an
intimate
private ear
that can
really listen
to another.

Start right now
take a small step
you can call your own
don’t follow
someone else’s
heroics, be humble
and focused,
start close in,
don’t mistake
that other
for your own.

Start close in,
don’t take
the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.

 

© David Whyte

Written by sabineclappaert

May 12, 2017 at 6:36 pm

Posted in 7 - Verbatim

How we write.

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“For it would seem – her case proved it – that we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person. The nerve which controls the pen winds itself about every fibre of our being, threads the heart, pierces the liver.”

Virginia Woolf – Orlando

 

Written by sabineclappaert

March 11, 2017 at 8:24 pm

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