Category Archives: may all who journey

a shining steady chorus of Ah! by PD Lyons Poetry


 

sometimes

i just let the day go 

awareness, not of the passing

but of the being.

not moments, minutes, hours

but seeing, hearing, feeling

tasting, smelling, thinking.

free of linear, lists, concept, naming,

ever thing, any thing.

a true knowing

a shining quiet steady chorus of Ah…

from Speaking with Our Self a video series : https://makebelieverz.wordpress.com/


Speaking With Our Self

 

What will happen if we pay attention to how we speak with our self ?

Could we use awareness of language, and tone of our inner voice, to empower ourselves in our daily lives?

Do our default habits hinder or help us in our endeavors?

Can they be changed, refined or be abandoned as we wish?

Let’s find out.

 

~

Follow this video series on ;

https://makebelieverz.wordpress.com/2020/03/06/video-1-introduction/

https://makebelieverz.wordpress.com/

 

Thank you for watching!

Female in Buddhism | Drukmo Gyal Dakini | TEDxTartu


a very concise & useful bit of video

 

These Words by PD Lyons


 

Sligo 2020 Rosses Point photo by Shelly

These Words

by PD Lyons

from the tiredness of my bones
not syllables of warm water mouths
rather emanate rich with marrow silent sensations
hot cold
soft foetal
crescents of your ears
depth deeper than you know of your eyes
the vast rift of tears
your endless heart

alone sometimes in the dark
I have been a labour for you
silently aloud
likewise you should read
these words so unlike other words
each window through which invisible creatures
of what cannot be said climb

 

Pennies from heaven? Why not start now!


Pennies from heaven?

Why not start now? every day or whenever you can throw spare change into a container. Then at the end of the year make a donation to the charity of your liking. Be the change you want to see. Every step in the right direction is never  small. 

HAPPY New YEAR

 

morgan lyons photo pennies from heaven

I Didn’t Know words and photo by pd lyons


Got to go visit my daughter in cork city for her birthday shes attending uni there. train down from Dublin. So there was this woman…. and this is from the scribble notes….

 

as if never having seen

before

fingers such as these

elong both hands

explored tip by tip

by opposite

selected by a

pearl pink mouth

each taste slowly reminding her to herself

on this train

traveling alone

wherever she was going

i didn’t know

pdlyonsphoto

survival tips for this modern age or true no worries #3 by pd Lyons


If We Could Allow Grief by PD Lyons


In the latest issue of Buddhadharma Quarterly  I read a beautiful article by Joan Sutherland, Roshi titled Here at the End of the World In it she eloquently and effectively explores our social grief and lack of expression and how it is impacting our response or lack of response regarding the environmental situation. Below is my own attempt to express myself regarding grief and gun violence. While I make no comparison to Roshi Sutherland and my own pale writing I felt I must site her influence. Perhaps from here you’ll seek her out? Here is a direct link to her site and the complete article https://joansutherlanddharmaworks.org/Detailed/186.html

Thank you for reading.

pd Lyons

.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If we could allow grief

Our grief to manifest

 

A school room of 7 year olds 

Shot to death

A spring morning

Their families

The responders

The survivors

The shooter

All grief worthy

 

If we could allow this grief

Wouldn’t we be able then to progress?

 

Fear of grief

Shielded with anger

Anger stifles, prevents movement, stagnates into polarity, perpetuation of fear.

 

If we could allow grief

Could we not then allow healing?

 

this courage, is it not worth daring?

 

“Everyone has their Vietnam” excerpt from At Hell’s Gate by Claude A. Thomas


 

And I would say that while we have to talk we don’t have to be foiled by limitations. Never a good idea to push too hard or go to fast. Some people can write books, speak up in public. Others may be able to do so in anonymous group settings or with a close friend or loved one. Maybe you start by talking to an empty room, alone on a forest walk or in your car? Or maybe you too will find that weeping into a pillow is the starting point. Where ever and how ever – the important thing is to begin. To speak truth, begin where you can and as you are able. Keep going at your own pace. The benefits will be amazing. With best wishes and every respect. – PD Lyons

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To me there is a magic which only Christmas brings,


snow by morgan lyons

snow by Morgan Lyons

12.23.85.
Now two days before Christmas snow has stopped not amounting to much and well what can I say that hasn’t already been said about the joys and sorrows aroused by Christmas?

I like Green Sleeves, God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman, Good King Wenceslas, The Holly and the Ivy, and for some reason Barbara Allen strikes me as a Christmas tune. I also like the best cognac I can afford and of course Champagne – very dry and very French. It must be cold for Christmas, it doesn’t matter if it snows but it must be cold so I can wear my big black overcoat and a long red scarf as I take my 1 a.m. Christmas Eve stroll after having watched Alistair Sim as Scrooge on the channel 2 Late Late Late show. The best thing about Christmas though is the melancholia. a thick strong liquor, the true spirit of Christmas brewed from memories of child hood and from witnessing present instances of hope and faith – the faith of children waiting for Santa Claus – knowing he will some how come, the hope of church goers (pious as well as the annual) the simple joy of strangers on a street corner singing songs of comfort and joy with the salvation army band. These are the ingredients of the precious brew that one sips slowly sparingly alone in the cold in the middle of the night. For me my own special garnish is my son who I cannot see on Christmas and my mother (always the source of our childhood Christmas festivities) who has now been dead for this the second Christmas – and yet still there is something, as if Christmas gives me the courage to think of each of them remembering those happier times without depression.

How do I explain? It is the joy we give that lays the foundation for our own faith in our ability to be happy. The presence of hope when hope should not exist, joy in spite of all the compelling reasons for despair – that must be magic. It is the season when one searches out, both in memory and present day to day, these instances of magic. Ones awareness is sharpened so as to better find out and discover these instances of joy and hope. So as to be able to say: See! It is real! It does exist. Here! Here is an example and here look here! Against all odds should be the motto for Christmas. Truly a holiday common sense and the rational are definitely out to lunch. All mundane obligations – rent bills job etc. are finally (if only briefly) put into a proper prospective and totally disregarded in favour of the pursuit of bringing joy to some one else. Even money in all its blood soaked splendour is transformed into an instrument of purity when with it are bought the tokens which give delight, the tokens that symbolize our wish to give happiness to others. It seems that everyone now has this mission – to make other people happy, as if to prove it is possible to do such a thing even in this world.

For me the magic of Christmas is that although I have good reason to be depressed ( my son, my mother, no money, no job, etc.) I know I will find, because of Christmas, a sense of joy, a sense of thank god for Christmas.
When I woke up this morning I swore I wouldn’t write anything about Christmas. I even wrote I had nothing to say about it and now here I am writing a Christmas lecture but perhaps you can forgive me. I don’t mean to tell you how Christmas is and must be for you, this is just a little reminder to myself as how it is for me. Hopefully I’ve spared you from too much of the boring personal details but gave enough for a good outline.
To me there is a magic which only Christmas brings, a sort of reason-less relief from the mun-day- to-dane preoccupations. For others I’m sure they will interpret it in their own terms, perhaps this too is what makes it a special time because each may experience it in a personal way without infringing on another. But no matter, Christmas will, I’m sure have her way and I believe deep down even the most adamant “hum-bugger” will some how be affected by her as she makes her way down the street, cold, alone, sipping slowly on that thick strong brew she loves so well, her eyes alive with the knowledge that she has little to do with any religion and that its useless for mankind to resist her. Christmas is a determined wench, patience unlimited. It doesn’t matter to her how long the seduction takes – she knows whether days months or years the result will be the same – that eventually we all fall under her spell.

more snow by morgan lyons

more snow by Morgan lyons

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