Monday, May 4, 2015

What Is Given

There is nothing you or I could do to earn or become unworthy of the Infinite Love that gives itself away in creating all that is in every moment. Oh, there are more than a few things we can do (self-criticism, self-loathing, resentment, etc.) that can make it difficult for us to receive the direct experience of the Beloved's constant presence within and around us, but that Love remains- forever patient as we do our best to be here. Because here is where that Love finds us. ~Oriah (Another spectacular good morning photo from Karen Davis at Open Door Dreaming.)

Thursday, April 30, 2015

All Is Well

Attended my father's funeral on Tuesday the 28th, and I am saturated with gratitude. My heart is full. There is such truth in the beauty that unfolds daily amidst the unpredictable challenges of life and chaos of the world. May we be present with what is within and around us. May how we are with ourselves and each other be a love letter that whispers encouragingly, "Live!" ~Oriah (Photo by Kristy Thompson)

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Flying Lessons

My father is dying,
his grip still strong on my arm
begging me to help him leave.

Each day after work his coming home was
exuberance entering by the back screen door,
a loud metal lunch pail sliding across the kitchen floor.
me: running on short dimpled leghs, shouting,
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!”
launching myself into the air from the top step
small arms wide, fearless,
knowing he’d catch me.
He was the scent of warm sun, clean sweat,
and creosote from the hydro poles he climbed.
He was strength and
green eyes that lit up when he saw me.
I was a small bird in his arms.

My father is dying,
his grip still strong on my heart
as I look for a way to help him fly.

- Oriah House (c) 2015 (Photo by Karen Dais from )

Friday, April 10, 2015

When The World Overwhelms

I print out poems on hot pink pages
handing them out in the business district,
moving through the dark cool canyons 
between towers of glass and steel.

Sometimes a poem is all you can do.
Like breathing,
or walking with your head tipped back
so you can see the sky.

~Oriah House (c) 2015

Monday, April 6, 2015

Spring Blessing

One day you wake up
able to name the weight 
you’ve been carrying.
Realizing it’s not part of your body or your being,
not essential in any way to journeying or joy,
you set it down gently, without fanfare
in the long soft grass at the side of the road
and walk on
surprised to find yourself
smiling in the warm sun
for no particular reason.
~Oriah Houser © 2015

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

My Fasting Time

Tomorrow, Feb. 18 I begin a fast- a screen-time fast, which means for the next while I will not be on Facebook, or this blog, will not be watching movies or television shows, will not be surfing the net.

I am not entirely sure why, but I am feeling called to do this- to create some empty space and time and quiet, and see what emerges within and around me. I enjoy the connections here and the window into the world offered to me by the internet. But, recognizing that I can (and sometimes do) use screen time to distract myself from. . . well, pretty much anything I find consciously or unconsciously uncomfortable, I’m curious to see what will arise (and how easy or hard it will be not to turn on my computer.)

Lately I’ve been deepening my daily practice of prayer, meditation, contemplation and writing. I want to see where all of these things might take me if I give them more space, if I am more frequently truly still and open.

Years ago I did a series of vision quests- times of praying and fasting alone in the wilderness. The longest of these was twenty-two days and nights. Of course, alone in the bush, there are few distractions. Doing something similar at home will be both easier (no mosquitoes or sitting in the cold rain) and harder (no mosquitoes or cold rain to keep me awake and present.) I never regretted any of those quests- some new awareness and direction came out of each one.

More and more I feel myself drawn to a contemplative life- not instead of participating in the world- but as sustainable way to root myself in my relationship to the sacred and awareness of the Beloved- God, the Great Mystery, Infinite Love, Source- that is both what we are and a wholeness that is greater than the sum of the parts, as I offer what I am able.

Sometimes the divine Lover asks us to try a new dance step, to follow that Presence into the dance without knowing where it will lead.

I will hold you in my heart prayers and reconnect here when the time is right. Many blessings, Oriah

(Deep gratitude to Karen Davis for another beautiful photo from )

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

What I Remember

I remember wanting to spend time alone. I was eleven.
I lay on the forest floor, far from the others,
pinned to the ground by green light
filtered through summer trees.

I wanted to memorize the moment,
to fix in my body the precise scent of moist shadows,
the rhythm and texture of birdsong,
the pattern of branches laced across the blue sky.

I wanted to remember the forest’s soft sigh
rippling through the tree tops from left to right
like something footed and running.
I wanted the details to etch themselves into my brain,
begged the particulars to press into my skin.

But memories of that moment are fragmented and slippery.
All I can remember clearly is my own fierce trying
and my conviction that if I could hold on to the details,
they would save me.

Oriah House (c) 2015

Photo from Mike K at