57 Comments

I made three new dog friends on the beach today (and a salamander friend in the woods yesterday, although I felt less certain of his affection)! Your poem hits on something so beautiful and true . . . the unhesitating generosity of a dog really does feel like a thin place when I let myself be present. Thank you for this reminder to do exactly that! Oh, and the line “limpid pools of a dog’s loving gaze” is just lovely.

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Thank you, friend. A trio of dog friends warms the cockles of my heart (chuckle/and, truly). Jeff would be jealous! The salamander friend sounds lovely, too...just harder to see their tiny thin places.

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Lisa, what a lovely poem. I felt like I was right there with you. And I actually have been behind waterfalls in Hawaii. Such a magical experience. My January wild work month has slowed down, so glad to be here with some poetry...

.

From the ocean,

a misty fog reaches

its tendrils across the land.

Fingers barely touching

solid ground beneath.

This thin place between.

.

Permeable spots, that fade

away as I approach.

Playing hide and seek,

enticing me,

enchanting me,

to cross its threshold.

To join the weaving dance,

this marriage of the edges.

.

Locating this shifting entryway,

is not pinpointed with the mind.

Like trying to hold on tightly

to a traveling vagabond.

Journeying through its portal

is the language of the liminal.

A surrender to the numinous.

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I love the images you paint so much - fingers of fog, permeable places, a game of hide and seek between you and the thresholds that pop up all around! What a beautifully playful way to think about the longing for connection with the sacred.

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Lovely, Julie! I like the idea of the “permeable spots” playing hide-and-seek with you, not able to be seen/found when approached directly. Also “marriage of the edges” -- beautiful!

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This is gorgeous. I feel transported by the scenes you've painted here, like I might glimpse mermaids/mermen (merfolx?) or nymphs somewhere in the dance. I love "the language of the liminal. A Surrender to the numinous."

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This is so magical, Julie - a dance and a portal all its own. Thank you for inviting us there.

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Oh Julie, this is pure magic. It is beautifully lyrical, and like a favorite song, I found myself not wanting it to end. But I realize, it doesn't end with the last line, but goes on and lives on in the hearts, minds and spirits of readers like me, transported to the beautiful world you bring us to, and the quiet glow you leave in our beings long after the poem is finished. A deep bow of gratitude to you.

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Larry I am touched my your response. A deep bow of gratitude to you as well!

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I love this poem and concept so much! Your face getting dampened by the veil, the "single sea," and giggling prayers -- so good!

What arrived for me this morning was the idea of thin places left behind by people who pass. I was talking with a friend yesterday about his dad's celebration of life, and that led me to look up his obituary this morning, and that led to this poem!

I read an obituary

penned by my friend

for his dad,

whom I’d never met,

but who stepped up

to the surface, or down

from the clouds --

at any rate, arrived --

through letters on a screen.

He was a runner.

He grew up in

a succession of hand-built

homes on farms,

spoke Spanish first, and

would not have gone

to college except for his

strong legs and heart

and a coach who believed.

He became that coach

himself, helping to

build out a succession of

other legs and hearts

according to God’s

wildest blueprints.

At the celebration,

there were nametags –

for names, of course,

but also for assembling

pieces – who were you

to Gene? The head count

was nearly double

that expected.

He was 82, long retired,

and the nametags read

Student

Student

Student.

His face in the

obituary photo

is kind and upturned,

eyes playfully tracking

the aperture. He looks

just like my friend.

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I too find this thin place as time of death, as well as a time of birth. This poem is wonderful. It speaks to me of how interconnected we are. We all have our lives to live in our unique way that we are called to be. I love the last line, "He looks just like my friend." Because truly at the bottom line of it all, we all are just friends!

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There's something so moving about your having been inspired to write a poem about someone you met only in the "thin place" between his life and death. Someone you glimpsed only through your friend's recollections and the obituary online. I had to sit for a moment with the profundity of it. "It" being the way in which we find ourselves intersecting with each other in and after this mundane and mysterious human experience. I especially love the idea of us making things out of "God's wildest blueprints."

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This is so beautiful, Rebekah. I love that it highlights how we often not only touch people we know in life, but also can have an effect on people we've never met through the people who love us. The part about the name tags and his photo at the end are so touching.

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This is beautiful, Rebekah. Your knowing that death and loss are thin places is truly a gift.

What a wonderful tribute to a good person that you have written, whom though you did not know him, you know of him and your own intuitive instincts and gifts connect you beyond direct personal relationship. To be able to glean the qualities and measure of a person from reading an obituary and hearing stories is a remarkable gift that you hold. What a wonderful blessing of healing, support and comfort that you offer others. Thank you for your hopeful presence in the thin places.

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"gods wildest blueprints"

images of the creator scribbling madly at her drafting table

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Acub'seyeverdict:

Rookietrystodredgemorewords

Squishspaces. Sorry.

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I love the creativity and humor of this, Chuck!

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thanksforthisplayfulriff. Noapologyrequired!

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🙂

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That first line was quite a brain workout😅 I enjoy "Squishspaces," and the "sorry" made me giggle.

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Chuck, it took a few readings, but I think I understand now! That you for stretching our eyes and cognitive muscles!

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dang poem turned itself into a puzzle, like it had a mind of its own.

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They do have minds of their own! Those rascals!

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I wonder if

Thin Places

are not

where

we become

physically closer

to the divine, but

when

we become

aware of our

inherent closeness;

if Heirophany

is really an epiphany,

and the Veil

is our disbelief,

is our forgetting.

I imagine that

remembering

is like suddenly

being able to see

the mycelium,

the tree roots,

the tunnels and

the burrows, all

stretching beneath

the forest floor

in a vast network;

a dawning

realization of the

quiet and vital

connection,

ever-present.

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This is so beautifully worded and rings so true to me! Maybe my own thoughts/attitudes/fear/busyness/buying into what the culture says are what create “thick places.” In the absence of that, maybe everywhere and everything is thin, is a portal to sacredness.

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I read this earlier today while not exactly working and couldn’t take the time to respond then -- but oh A, what magic! I got a vision of mycelium and tree roots and burrows connecting every single one of us living things, somehow hiding in plain sight, and only when we find our own “thin place” (which is actually every place on earth) do our eyes work properly, for as long as we can hold the feeling. I love this so much! I want to try to live in this place. I want the world to live in this place, it would fix everything. Thank you for the vision!

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"I want to try to live in this place. I want the world to live in this place, it would fix everything" were exactly my thoughts as I was writing it. I'm so glad the vision translated. ❤️

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I really resonated with this one A.! I agree it is not about getting closer, like something we have to atone to or do. This closeness is "inherent." Realizing this web of life that we are all connected by as one living being. This is truly a beautiful poem!!!

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Thank you, Julie! You always write so beautifully about nature and the divine, I love that it resonated with you.

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A., this is exceptionally brilliant! From word one to the final period, the poem holds together so beautifully well, one string of insight, discovery and reflection connected by the lyrical cadence of your words. I hesitate to lift any one piece of your poem because it is an intact gem as it stands, but these lines "I wonder if Thin Places are not where we become physically closer to the divine, but when we become aware of our inherent closeness;... are so powerful and feel like an essential beginning to a marvelous journey through the poem. I marvel each time at the depth and artful heart in your writing. Thank you!

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Thank you, Larry! I've had the idea of heirophany rattling around because of a recent read, so when I saw today's prompt I immediately felt like the ideas belonged together, and I'm quite proud of this one.

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It is a true gem, A.

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As are you, friend.

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What a wonderfully kind thing to say. Thank you, A.!

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This is really beautiful, A. It's a thrill to see the way in which you've used earthly metaphor to explore ethereal truth (brilliant, because the limitations of language make it so difficult to capture the ethereal in a way that doesn't seem dull), and your word pairings (Heirophany/epiphany, forgetting/remembering, tunnels/burrows) add rhythm and symmetry. Really great stuff!

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Thank you so much, Keith! It was a thrill to write, if I'm honest. It felt like it came together all on its own.

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I know what you mean, and I could feel the inspiration in it as I read (every time I read!).

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I started to write this afternoon, beginning on a solo hike in Rocky National Park. I started over, on a Virginia mountain far above the vallet floor, holding the and of a beloved. Then an empty northwestern coastline, the pounding of waves our sundtrack. Somehow the journey through the evening and memories brought me to the drum circle, always a thin place and space for me.

The Drum Circle

The sound begins slowly,

heartbeat rhythm flowing from deep within,

two step cadence uniting even the most hesitant;

This flock of wanderers seeking enlightenment,

or peace, solidarity, or just plain togetherness.

The music builds, flutes and shakers

weaving through the drumbeats,

cascading sounds of rainsticks

encircling waves of light flowing

between dreamers hoping to brighten the sky.

We drum for the ancestors, and for the ones to come.

We drum for the planet, and the healing of her wounds.

We dance for the invisible ones, whose existence is always

kept hidden in the closets of those too small to notice

the carnage their lies have left behind.

We drum to be free, and to remember

the source of all life.

As we drum, I am back on the ocean.

ready to ride one last swell as the moon rises.

Or looking out from Angels Rest to the gleaming Alleghenies,

to full moon skiing through the giant pines of the Green Mountains,

melodic symphony of northern lights guiding me further in.

Coming back to the circle, the present moment,

connected to one another by these ancient voices,

chaos blending into holy noise to sacred ground,

shimmering humans aching to be whole,

unseen spirits flowing beyond our imaginary borders.

We stop. Gaze inward as our hearts open,

looking up through soft candlelight,

we see each other as if for the first time,

Trying to find the words to explain the indescribable,

Folding into silence as we come to know

loving kindness and poetry of the soul

need

no

words.

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You pulled me right there into your drum circle, Larry! I’ve never been to one before and now it’s obvious to me that I need to change that. I loved the rhythmic repetitions of “we drum for.” Just beautiful!

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Thank you Lisa! Yes, I hope you do find one! They seem meant for kind and loving people like you! If you use Facebook, they have a drum circle locator for wherever you may be! Tonight, I'll be drumming gratitude for you and the wonderful poets in this sacred thin place you have guided us into!

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Thank you, Larry! I'll see what I can find on facebook.

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What an amazing journey to be taken on Larry. There are so many pieces I want to linger on and dive further into. The drumming for the ancestors, the planet and the invisible ones. Then being drummed back to the ocean lit by the full moon. Then returning to the circle seeing each other as if for the first time. There are no borders and as you say it is "indescribable." I am really touched by this...

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Julie, this is a very gracious and kind comment, and I thank you. One of the joys of being human is our capacity to be affirming, generous and gracious towards others (and ourselves) and you exemplify that so well. Every single person commenting on these poem prompts since last May has been as well. Thank you for reading with such an open heart and wise insight.

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I feel like I was transported to the drum circle with you, Larry. I love how you created the feeling of the heartbeat rhythm within the poem with the repetition of "we drum...// we drum.. //we dance..." And how you, yourself, were transported partway through and then returned, grounding in the moment. What an incredible experience.

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This is a powerful unfolding, Larry. I can feel the force of life and the force of ages swelling and rising in the music and in nature (the "heartbeat rhythm flowing from deep within"), healing and uniting as it does. I can only imagine the afterglow this must have left on everyone who was there. Really beautiful.

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Thank you Keith. We do drum circles every month and each are unique and lovely.

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Happy Imbolc, all <3

Have you ever let yourself

slip from the thick grip

of earth’s gravity

into the limpid pools

of a dog’s loving gaze?

Where, just beneath the surface,

you are astonished to find

both absolution and salvation?

A generosity

unearned, undeserved,

offered without reservation,

without hesitation.

Given In spite of you,

and also because of you.

And you feel

the nectar of it filling your veins

and you sense the truth of it

pulsing in your heart.

And you know, sure as anything

you’ve ever known

that you have dropped

into

a

thin

place.

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THis is quite wonderful, Keith. Happy Imbolc to you, and thank you for the noting of that splendid celebration of the coming (sometime soon?) spring and the halfway point between winter solstice and spring equinox. Here in the north, that is a cause for hope!

I love that your thin place is in the eye and wonder of a dog! Oh yes! God is just dog spelled backwards, after all! We are in day one of an 11 day stretch of taking care of one of our grand dogs, and it is a true joy for us to have Callie bounding about and reminding us there is joy in every breath!

Your poem is beautifully descriptive and lyrical. Your artful skills at evoking vivid and clear images of the mundane to the magnficient is truly special. I love the whole poem, and how you end is a gift:

"And you feel

the nectar of it filling your veins

and you sense the truth of it

pulsing in your heart.

And you know, sure as anything

you’ve ever known

that you have dropped

into

a

thin

place."

Indeed! Your poem brings me to a thin place.! Thank you! I am off to play with Callie the dog!

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Thank you, Larry! Winter has been feeling like a long (relentlessly so) parade of grey days here, so I am very happy to know we are passing the halfway point. I love how Imbolc reminds of the long and courageous gestation period that leads to birthing something new. I just learned that "God" and "dog" are semiordnilaps (palindromes backwards?). Callie sounds like a delight. I hope you enjoy each other...and that maybe you can find a thin place in her eyes.

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Thank you Keith--my partner just said to me "Callie has the most expressive eyes..." And I replied "they are thin places!"

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Thanks for sharing this with me, Larry. It's making me smile :). May you look deeply into Callie's eyes many times while she is in your charge!

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This is so deeply sweet, Keith. I love "A generosity unearned, undeserved, offered without reservation, without hesitation. Given in spite of you, and also because of you." The purest kind of love.

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Thank you, A. Yes, that's exactly how looking into my dog's eyes felt - like I was engulfed in the purest form of love.

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Lisa, I adore this poem! It's one of those that pulls you right in, so it's like you're there. I love the slight spin on "between a rock and a hard place," I love the format, I love how I am almost shaking and giggling along with you. I'm so glad you brought us along on this adventure. I hope the rest of your trip is just as wonderful.

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This is wonderful Lisa! I love the photos, and so glad you are enjoying the beautiful earthscape in Oregon. I love the concept and notion of Thin Places. Being of Irish heritage with doses of Scottish and English blended in (and all those unknown pieces that may exist), I have always been drawn to celtic lore, philospohy, spirtuality, mythology, and of course, music. In my understanding, Celtic thought does make space for thin places as more than geographical, an example being the time of Samhein, Halloween, which coincides with celebrations of Halloween, the Day of the Dead, All Souls Day, etc. That has also been my own experience, though the beauty and power of nature and the earth are places where I feel msot receptive to that "thin place."

I don't have a poem yet, but I love conversations and stories of thin places, and always am so inspired and energized by your writing. Keep enjoying Oregon, your sister and all the good spirit around you.

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Thank you for sharing your knowledge about thin places, Larry! I love the notion of thin times - holidays or seasonal shifts or ritualized moments that make the veil a little thinner. I look forward to your poem, whenever it emerges, and I appreciate your encouragement and good wishes!

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This was such a sensory delight, between the poem and the breathtaking photos. I love the idea of giggling a poem (and I feel that must tickle whomever/whatever one prays to), and I love how the length of your lines tapers like water falling. And a poem about thin places the day before Imbolc? Pure Celtic synchronicity!

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