Tag Archives: HAIBUN

COMPASSION… The Heart’s Compass. a haibun


I went here the other day…


It reminded me of my own journey, of my own feelings about ‘self-compassion’.   I was particularly pulled in by one of the women’s breaking down of the word compassion.  Why I never noticed or bothered to look at it before must of been cause I wasn’t feeling and looking deep enough.  Now I can’t let it alone, if you know what I mean.


Compassion… Here is the Wiki link to all kinds of definition for compassion.


My simple definition is, the care and desire to help those that are having a hard time in life.  To step up, open my heart, and in some way that I can; to give, send energy, give pray, imagine, the highest good for that one in need.


I’ve always seen the word passion, in compassion, it reaches out and calls to me.  It’s one of those words most us hope to have and experience.  Passion.


Now, Compass.  That’s the one I missed.  As obvious as the word Passion, sitting right there in front of me.

Did you see it?


I love compasses.  I have a little collection of vintage compasses.  I have one in my car. I have one on my phone.  I look to the Sun as a compass.  I pretty much know in what direction I’m looking most of the time.  LIke now, facing South, with my back to the cold North.


I have a need/desire to know my direction.  I’m a road-tripper on those ‘blue highways’ of the MidWest, and believe me a compass has come in darn handy on more than one occasion.  It’s kinda like, where the heck am I going, and am I going there in the right direction.


YOu could say, and maybe a few of you will, I have a passion for compasses.  I have a passionate sense for direction.


What rises in me these last few days is the direction, the compass point I give to my passion.  There is not one direction that is likely better than the other, AND… there are situations, circumstances, moments, that listening to my heart’s compass, a point of opening that will lead me to passion’s door, where I can give of my best and highest self.  Notice, feel, make way to the care of myself and those that have lost their passion for more reasons than I can name and imagine, who have lost their way because their compass requires some adjustment, a new calibration that maybe the simple act of knowing they are loved, cared for, and not alone make all directions feel better.


I will always see the word ‘compass’ in compassion.  And it is my prayer that I will stand at the center of my heart’s compass and turn slowly, making sure I have an awareness of all directions. They will lead me home.


North, South, East, West, Here

Heart’s compass gives direction

Passion fashions love






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A week has come and gone, with no feeling that time made such a quick departure from days tiding away into the sea of yesterdays.  There is no holding on to it, on this sand shore, turning to see the spice of red and gold, orange, and green, waving from the woods, calling from the beach into The Autumn of life.   With all that Sun pouring on the pulsing brilliance of a forest in Autumn’s seductive allure, Feeling the wave of it enfold in the breathy chill of this Season in the acceptance of it.  The call is loud and will not be ignored.  Thank the Goddess that I am becoming my favorite Season.


The days whip on by

Late Autumn is this body

Winter circles life

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Imagine… a haibun



Imagine… anything you like.  There is No limit.  No one to tell you can or can’t or how big or little you can imagine.  Imagine… Anything.  Create it in your minds eye as if it IS.  It’s as real as you imagine it to be. Breathe it in to your mind.  It is your creation, only as limited as you imagine it to be.  GO BIG even if it feels insignificant, even if it feels impossible, even if you feel you aren’t powerful enough, creative enough, good enough… do it anyway.  Pretend.  Imagine.  Give yourself this free moment to imagine…. ANyThinG.

Thoughts are manifested all around you.  Take a look.  Someone thought it and here it is. Creation is happening in ever millisecond, maybe faster.  It’s one Huge Universe and you have the power to be as creative as you believe yourself to be.  AS PowerFUll as you believe yourself to be.  Power that is not over, rather in perfect sync with all of Creation that is happening right now.

See it in your minds eye. Does it have a smell?  Maybe ya wanna taste it.  What does it feel like?  Is it colourful?  It is a thing, an object?  Does it yet exist in the world?  Maybe it’s a thought, a philosophy, a hope, a dream.  Maybe it’s a wish for peace, and end to illness, a new world view.  Sculpt it as you wish it to be.  Give it every glorious, loving passionate thought you have ever imagined.  BELIEVE it to be.  Know it already exists cause your thoughts are powerful.

You are creative tool of the Universe.  IMagine…


Make peace in the world

Imagine loves light everywhere

Make peace in the world

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Morning Season Report….a haibun



So still out there this morning.  A very faint breeze lifts the wet leaves.  There is the distant sound of crickets with that pulsing hum. A cicada gives a long buzz while it readies itself to split open and be free of it’s old self. A squirrel races across the roof with surprising pounding, like it’s a fat raccoon on the lam.  I sip my hot black brew… pondering.

I let nature find my nature.  Imagining the light breeze lifting my wet laden leaves from the drama of last night thunder and lighting, with the pour of the sky beating my land.  Glad for the feed and not so much for the corresponding deluge that makes for exhaustion.The calm is restful as the day wakes up and I with it.  That whole calm before and after the storm that I can shift into, breathe into.

The last day of August.  I can smell the season change ever so slightly.  Autumn is on the edge of us, ready for the harvest bounty to rise and fall back to the Earth for her winter keeping.  I’m in no hurry for all that.  Fall is my favorite time of the year, with all that colour and musk of the land filling me up.  I welcome it; always wanting it to last longer.

Some deaths move fast, some linger on in the letting go.  I wonder with that said will I linger with the vibrant colour of living, or will I let my Autumn lay me beneath a thick layer of leaf and pine, to Winter quickly.  There is that unknown.

Sunlight is just kissing the tips of the leaves in that golden glow of magic.  A hundred stomping squirrels make my roof an amusement park.  A crow gives it’s warning.  The day calls in it’s unexpected possibilities.  I let the coffee do it’s magic even in my very slow rising.


Leaves kissed by the Sun

Whisper of morning breezes

Summer calls to Fall


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HABITS… haibun/haiku


Habits…Those ritualistic mind sets that give daily life meaning, and move you from one thing to the next.    Those things we do every morning, every evening, in repeat cause it’s what we know, it’s what we do.  Habits give comfort, they give order, they give meaning, and reason:  make the coffee, feed the pets, check the email, write the blog, sippy the coffee, write some more, surf the news, write some more.  Mostly in that order.  and yours?

Habits give distraction, move the mind to mindless, give repeat to avoidance, to unspoken fears, or maybe they started so long ago that they are infused in the body and to break the ritual is a death of sorts; a great loss to your systems that spike the fear of what will you do without them.  What could possibly take their place?

Maybe, someone passed their rituals on to you’ the methodical repeat of their own habits and ceremonies, and you made them yours.  Children do that.  Parent do that.   They’re not yours… now what?

Some habits have to go, they’ve been around too long and don’t serve the higher good.  They’ve become viral in there hold, perversely sacred in the act of doing them, and they give an illusion of being the right thing to do, to get from point A to point B.   They served for so long and now they don’t.  The feel good has gone to the raw repetition till who you are is the parrot caged.


Habits to undo

Let the weather of you change

Born again each moment

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Grey Gloom Girly gives again

winter 2013

With March having snowed her way in, I’m hopeful that April will find us sooner than later laying her heady little crocus and snow drops with some vibrant green on the land.

Grey Gloom Girl, makes lots of visits to this part of the world, especially in the winter months. She generous with herself. She likes to amass the whole Mid-West and some of Canada when ever she gets a chance.  She can be sooo consuming.  I hear myself let loose with a big sigh, feel my face lack luster, and my lips push to the floor.

I’m doing my best to befriend her.  I’m the one most resistant.  She’d loved to cozy up, swaddle, and swallow me in her dull void.  It’s not like I haven’t given into that cool, overcast, and distant demeanor before, cause I have.  I’ve been known to let that over cast sky be my sunny day.  I’m not really into that kinda thing anymore.  Ya know?

She knows it pisses me off when she’s busy spitting and spewing little wet drops of freeze which is what she’s doing right now.  I’m gonna love her anyway.  That’s the thing about having choice in attitude about these kinda things;  I can give her bitch status and rave on about how annoying she is OR,  I can imagine her feeling lonely and needy to be seen and appreciated for what she is; all dull and grey and colourless.  She’s a little boring.  I’ll  love her anyway and wrap her up in my Sunny disposition.


No overcast here

Sun melts the grey gloom away

Lit up bright inside


Filed under HAIKU, michigan, NATURE, WINTER.

SNOW PONIES… haibun/haiku

The last day of February.  Zoom, gone.   One more day closer to Spring.  Yeaaaah.



Winter lays the heaviest dang carpet of snow on the Earth.  It’s so wet, it’s nearly impossible to shovel.  So, I don’t and hope my car barrels through the mess, which it has been so far.

This kind of snow makes for good snowman.  I saw some kids down the street making a fort and another an igloo of some sort.  And two little snowwomen with a red scarfs and some goofy hat, protecting the driveway.   Kids love this kinda wetness.  I sure did.   All wet and shivering, blue lipped and proud of the snow sculpture in the front yard.

I use to make snow ponies.  Me and Cathy, my alley neighbor, would build our horses next to her garage; we’d polish them down to make them like ice sculpture, give them faces, and wrap cord around them like a halter and reins, cover them with blankets and pretend we were riding them like cowgirls.  We froze our asses off sitting there in all our pretend, having so much fun.  We were so proud of our ponies.

After more than an hour of being cold and happy, our teeth clattering in our mouthes, we’d come in to one of houses to sip on coco to warm up.  These memories make the dense wet of this snow and all the branches down,  messing up yards and cars, seem trivial to the joy of bundling up and building my pony in Cathy’s yard all those decades ago.  I will gather and hold these treasures of memory when I feel the rise of complain pushing at my edges.


Gather the blizzard

Build the Snow Pony to ride

Heavenly gallop







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