“Don’t tell me how wonderful things will be . . . someday. Show me you can risk being completely at peace, truly okay with the way things are right now in this moment, and again in the next and the next and the next . . .” ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

First-place Winning Poem

Spirit First is pleased and honored to announce the first-place winning poem for 2011 awarded to Levi Noe for his poem “Om.” Levi is a native Coloradan and a graduate of Metropolitan State College of Denver with a Bachelor’s Degree in English and a concentration in writing. Currently he is a teacher of children ages 1 1/2 to 6 years at Montessori Academy of Colorado, but beginning in May 2011 he will be an English teacher in Japan with the English Academy of Communication. Levi's free time is spent reading, writing, bicycling, snowboarding, cooking, eating, learning, unlearning and drinking in life. His current and future goals include, but are not limited to, the fields of writing, education, healing, freeing, and empowering. 

         

Om

by Levi Noe

The bee’s buzz— the hum, the love

                        Is this Om?

I chase it with my

           honey-hungry

                    wild longing.

What do flowers chant

to make the bees come?

Levi Noe

First-place Winner

Spirit First Poetry Contest 2011

Second-place Winner

Second-place honors go to Mankh (Walter E. Harris III) for his poem “This Is the Somewhere You Wanted To Get To.” Mankh is a writer, small press publisher, and Turtle Islander who lives in Suffolk County, New York. His most recent book of poems is Adam Had No Earthly Navel. Mankh takes pleasure in nature and enjoys listening to music, learning about various spiritual traditions, and keeping up with world news and cultural trends. His literary website: www.allbook-books.com.

This Is the Somewhere
You Wanted To Get To
by Mankh (Walter E. Harris III)

this bus stop
before the bus arrives
is also a destination

this bagel & coffee
in the car before
the work day begins

this reading
and delivering of this communiqué,
this now
is the somewhere you wanted to get to

if you could just
kick it down a notch
you would notice this
bliss that lives in the cracks,
between the lines,
in the air called empty
by those who never noticed
this is the somewhere
to get to

if you have arrived
then you are not waiting,
not hoping,
not needing,
step right up, ladies and gentlemen,
see it before you believe it

if this is really the somewhere
you wanted to get to
then clear the table
and call off the dogs,
call off the second coming,
turn off the porch light,
all bets are off,
send the posse packing home
and let's just waltz
between the starry firmness
guiding us, guiding us on

let's just stand, arms outstretched,
a pack of canines
licking our un-crossed palms,
sandpipers piping the sand,
let's take a stand and take our time,
let's give a shit,
make it work,
let's shake it down and do it up

open your mind
allow the clouds
to roll on by
as a goldfinch
eats the thistle seeds
then whistles blissfully
this is the somewhere

Third-place Winner

Third-place honors go to Kaveri Patel for her poem “Forgiveness.” Kaveri is a practicing family physician in northern California. In her seven years of practice, she has found that compassionate listening is perhaps more important than the exact medical diagnosis. Her own healing journey has taught her that kindness is key to meeting all difficulties in life. She especially loves to empower women and help them reconnect with the sacred feminine within.

Kaveri has written for MotherVerse, Passing It On, and the Palo Alto/Menlo Park Parents Newsletter. She enjoys writing both poetry and prose as a means of connecting with self and the world around her. Kaveri lives with her beautiful husband, daughter, and mother in northern California. In her free times she enjoys mindfulness meditation, yoga, singing, music, the ocean, and spending time with her family.

Forgiveness

by Kaveri Patel

 

There’s something new about the world
the day after it rains.
It’s as if an artist
erased the whole palette,
then redrew homes, the trees, the sky
with bolder outlines, and brightened
them with new paint
more vibrant than the old colors.

What if we were all artists
washing away old images of ourselves
with tears of forgiveness?
What if you could see
past outer appearances
and your heart was
your only canvas?
Would you imbue it
with the shades of your love,
or tear it to pieces
to equal
your number of self judgments?

There's something new about the world
the day after it rains.
An artist erases the whole palette
for the chance to begin again.

Spoken Poem Award

Spirit First is very pleased to announce the Spoken Poem Award 2011 goes to Frank James Davis of Troy, New York, for his poem "For Enlightenment."

For Enlightenment

            by Frank James Davis

As I now rise

to start life's sleep,

I pray the Lord

my truth to keep.

Working each day,

until I'm dust,

I've yet to learn

just why I must.

My mind might soon

remember why,

if I should wake

before I die.

Editor's Choice Award

Spirit First is pleased to announce the Editor's Choice Award 2011 goes to Rick Kempa for his poem "In Northern India Right Now." Rick is a poet and essayist living in Rock Springs, Wyoming, where he teaches writing and philosophy at Western Wyoming College. A book of his poems, Keeping the Quiet, is available from Bellowing Ark Press. Rick is also a poet featured in our Spirit First poetry book Moments of the Soul 2010.

In Northern India Right Now 
by Rick Kempa (for the students in my Religious Studies class)

In Northern India right now

there is a thin, thin man.

He is naked and has been so

for decades.

He is standing off to the side of the road

on one leg,

his other leg tucked high against his inner thigh,

his hands clasped before him.

He has no possessions

not even a bowl like the Buddhist monk.

When villagers come out in the evening to feed him

(because holy men must be fed)

he uses the bowl of his hands.

He does not cut his hair

because it is a home for creatures.

When he walks he brushes the path before him

with a clutch of peacock feathers

so as not to harm the creatures.

He will not kill the mosquito that drinks his blood

If he is attacked by a dog, he is bitten.

He is pursuing

                        pursuing

                                    pursuing

the Way.

What are we to make of him?

In Iran there are men who

whirl and whirl for days in circles,

their hair, their black cloaks flowing behind them

turning inward towards the truth, towards love,

deserting their egos

seeking through the sacred dance

the Way.

What are we to make of them?

In a small town in New Mexico each spring

one man is chosen—honored—to be the one

who has his clothes torn from him,

who bears the lash, wears the crown of thorns,

who, barefoot, hauls the wooden cross up the steep hill,

is tied to it and stood upright,

while the community gathers in prayer at his feet,

believing that his suffering, his penance,

opens for them the Way.

What are we to make of them?

We might put them at a distance

as objects, curiosities. Weird! Strange!

We might even, if our own small world dictates,

judge them. They are wrong.

Their ways are not Truth

(meaning, of course, “my truth”).

We cannot enter their world views,

see them from within.

But can we at least stand at the edge,

understand them,

find something in their worlds

that speaks truth to us?

our resting place

There is a resting place, a starting place that you can always return to.  You can always bring your mind back home and rest right here, right now, in present, unbiased awareness.   ~Pema Chodron

true religion

A spiritual person tries less to be godly
than to be deeply human.

                                             ~ Rev. William Sloane Coffin, Jr.

photography by Madalina Diaconu

with permission

Spirit First on Facebook

Spirit First now has a presence on Facebook, and oh, my...what great joy this has become! It's been especially sweet for me to create the photo album for our Moments of the Soul poetry book (I had no idea how wonderful it would feel to see the faces of the poets whose words I have been reading for the past year).

Several days ago I sent the word out that we are on Facebook, and I asked folks to visit and choose to "like" our page. My intention was to reach 25 hits and wow, within about 24 hours we reached more than 80! I'm so pleased to have you all visit the page and support us and the work of Spirit First. I've felt encouraged by your presence, your comments, and your emails.With so many of you joining us here, it feels like community.

Come see us and visit us often:
http://www.facebook.com/TheSpiritFirstGroup.
You are warmly invited to "like" us. 
~ Diana Christine

on meditation...

Meditation is something wide and vast that ultimately expands into the Infinite. When we meditate, we throw ourselves into a vast expanse, into an infinite sea of peace and bliss, or we welcome the infinite Vast into us. Prayer rises; meditation spreads. Meditation is constantly growing and expanding into peace, light and delight. When we meditate, we gradually see, feel and grow into the entire universe of light and delight.   ~ Sri Chinmoy

take time to meditate...

The affairs of the world will go on forever. Do not delay the practice of meditation. ~ Milarepa

Poems, poems, poems...

What a wonderful outpouring of poems we received for our Spirit First poetry contest for 2011…our contest closed on January 31, and now we are holding 1,022 poems from 44 states, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, and 26 foreign countries. How beautiful this is! The state most represented is California with 105 poems, followed by New York with 84 entries. We received poems from a couple of states we didn’t hear from last year, like Alaska and North Dakota (we welcome you!).

We are especially honored and deeply pleased to receive poems from our international writers. We received 26 poems from India, followed by Canada with 24 entries. We received poems from all across the United Kingdom, including England, Ireland, Wales, and Scotland. Other nations we heard from include Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, Nigeria, Philippines, France, Romania, Thailand, Germany, Ghana, Mexico, Qatar, Spain, Sweden, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Dubai, Uganda, Pakistan, and Turkey. (We also received a few poems without locations indicated.)

Our poetry reviewing committee is busy reading each entry (thank you, team, for this is a very big work…), which will take several weeks. Winners will be announced by March 31 and will be posted on our website at www.SpiritFirst.org as well as here on our blog.

Thank you, all, for sharing with us your words, your thoughts, and your hearts. We are grateful for your generosity and blessed by your presence.

what feeds my soul

WHAT FEEDS MY SOUL
           ~by Sylvia Levinson 

Yesterday it was the little red-headed bird
that lit on my balcony and poked its beak
among the sweet alyssum.

Last week, the December rainstorm,
water curtain spilling
from the leaf-filled eaves.

Last month, the bowed head of a classical guitarist
suspended over his instrument,
waiting as the final note disappeared.

It’s always something.
Every day there is something.

What “something” takes you out of the routine
and mundane and feeds your soul?

used by permission from Levinson's book Gateways: Poems of Nature, Meditation and Renewal, A Self-Guided Book of Discovery

book reception

It was a cold January morning but I was eager for the day. Today would be our Spirit First reception in honor of publishing Moments of the Soul. What a great year it has been, with an abundance of beautiful words, the creation of a community of poets, and the birthing of a book. Today we would come together to celebrate what we have done.

Before the opening of the reception, we came together for our Spirit First monthly meditations (several poets from across the country who could not attend planned to meditate with us from afar). I love how this group of people from across the Washington, D.C., area has been learning how to come together to share the spirit of meditation. We have become a family. On this day we began by greeting each other silently, and the experience was so rich that we shall continue this as a regular practice in our gathering.  

After meditation, our book reception opened and our guests began to arrive—everyone coming was either a poet or a friend of a poet (thank you, Hershel…). It was all quite wonderful to meet everyone. 

Our first poet to read was A. Jarrell Hayes from Baltimore, author of “Stone Mind.” Jarrell was thoughtful enough to let the gathered crowd know his poem was on page 10 so they all could follow along (what a great idea…). “Enter the mind of wood, not of treetops and leaves swaying in the wind, but sturdy trunks which remain unmoving…”

Our second poet was Anne Whitehouse, who came to us from New York. Anne’s poem, “Blessing XXXV,” leads us to a place of meditation: “…My body fills with breath, my heart at front and center, thoughts dissolved, softening, deepening into the interval where a goddess passes by.”

Our next poet was Krista Kurth from Washington, D.C. Krista has two poems in our book, and she read for us from “Evening Grace.” The grace she described comes from a place of thanksgiving and brings peace…“Breathing in, I feel tiny tendrils of peace twirling and opening out, taking root, in the new found space in my day – in my heart – spreading warm comfort throughout – and – into my core, and with it ripples of expanding quiet joy.”

Our fourth poet was Carol Peck, from right here in Maryland. Carol first read “The End of Suffering” for us from her friend Stephen Cribari, who couldn’t be with us (he was in London). Carol then read to us her poem “Quaker Meeting,” showing us how we can carry our peace with us wherever we go (we also read this poem at our last month’s meditation gathering).

Our closing poet was Terry Quill (also from Maryland), whose poem “Silence and Stillness” has led to a bit of discussion. Terry explained how he wanted to create a page of silence in the middle of all the reading and how he hoped readers would understand (Terry’s poem was not part of the contest).

To the many friends who gathered with us to celebrate...thank you (I wish I could name you all here but I can't). You have been beautiful in your support and your love. 

I didn’t know anything about hosting a poetry contest or publishing a book, and all along I have been learning as I go. I am grateful to all of you for helping make it happen, grateful that it became “its own rich thing” (thank you, Lisa Dordal…I quite like quoting your poem). I have loved getting to know all of you. Your poems have become part of who I am.

reminder during the holidays...

Will Work For Food

         ~J.J. McKenna

"Will work for food," says the sign,

and the man holding its crude letters aloft,

bearded, shabbily dressed, a crest

of belly breaking over the top of jeans,

seems properly pathetic enough.

Yet, you reach to adjust the stereo, 

roll the windows up, and lock the doors —

all done by machines, all automatic enough.

"It's only a scam," you mutter to yourself.

And so it might be. It's hard to tell

from the shell of your middle class wealth.

J.J. McKenna has two poems--"Reflections on a Campfire" and "In This Air the Eye Travels"--in our recently released Moments of the Soul.

our book is now available

All of us at Spirit First are excited to announce the release of our first book, Moments of the Soul, a collection of poems on the themes of meditation, mindfulness, silence, stillness, and solitude. This book of 84 poems brings us moments of meditation written by 61 poets from across the United States and from several foreign nations, from writers between the ages of 18 and 85, from authors from many faiths and practices. We are proud, and grateful, to offer these moments of the soul from so many beautiful writers.

Proceeds from sales of this book go to Spirit First and the creation of a meditation retreat center with quiet walking trails, fragrant gardens, and many places to pause.

You can purchase a copy of Moments of the Soul from our website here.

to our poets

For everyone thinking about entering our 2011 poetry contest, this is for you...

Free Advice

by G. Bennett Perry

Keep off the cap! Don’t throw it away. Poems are like pictures, they capture thoughts instead of fleeting moments.

So what if your poems rhyme and your stories are predictable… don’t throw them away.

Share with us what is on your mind, let us learn from what you write.

Don’t deprive us of what is so important these days…the written word.

We can interpret it any way we choose, we can assume, we can complain, we can worry, we can be forced to think hard about something, we can enjoy, we can wish we’d said that, we can feel what you felt when you penned it.

But please don’t cap your pen and go back to your nine-to-five job! We all will miss out, and so will you. You will never know how we feel about your works, you will never know how good or bad you made us feel, you will never know what it means to touch someone with the written word, unless you share what you write with us.

Keep off the cap, and let the words continue to flow. We will all be the benefactors.

Too many of us conceal our deepest, proudest thoughts behind a wall of doubt, and our inspirational moments lie dormant at a time when all mankind could benefit.

book creation unfolding . . .

Our Moments of the Soul book continues on its path to creation. We are in pre-press (once again and hopefully for the final time). It's all quite beautiful, how our book is coming to be.

You can see a preview of Moments of the Soul here: book preview.

Our book is expected to be available on Amazon.com in a couple of weeks. 

being

Several days ago I saw some writing on a wall, and it said this:  
Life is About Finding Yourself

Someone had put an X through the word Finding and below had written another sentence that said this: 
Life is About Creating Yourself 

Well, I am not one who is given to graffiti, but I was tempted to put an X through the word Creating and add another sentence below:   Life is About Being Yourself

  art by rassouli
with permission

there is so much grace in waiting

I am very happy to say that in the spring of 2012, Spirit First will be hosting a weekend retreat led by Macrina Wiederkehr. She is known as Benedictine sister, author (several books), spiritual guide, seeker of Truth, and lover of the spiritual journey. Today I would like to share some of her words...

There is so much grace in waiting

If possible

open your eyes

without assistance

from an alarm clock.

If possible

smile softly

while getting out of bed.

You have survived the night.

Draw back the curtain

to the yet black night

outside your window.

Stand by the window

and wait for dawn,

then, morning.

 There is so much grace

in waiting.

If your eyes are sleepy,

pretend they are two planets

in the galaxy of your being

and they are responsible

for keeping the day lit.

Go forth, kindler of the day

Fill the world with light.

Your mission is sacramental.

~Macrina Wiederkehr

photography by cindy lee jones

Moments of the Soul

Things have been pretty quiet here on this site (I'm sorry about that...), but behind the scenes Spirit First has been quite busy. Last year's poetry contest, our first, brought a wonderful outpouring of gifts of the spirit, and from the many beautiful poems we received, we have created our first poetry book on the themes of meditation and mindfulness, silence and stillness. We are pleased to announce our soon-to-be-released book called Moments of the Soul.

I could not have imagined a more beautiful work than the creation of this book...many of the poems still bring me to tears every time I read them. I hope that among the many poetry gifts in the book, you will discover one or two favorites as well.

The picture on the front cover of the book was taken by fine-art photographer Marc Goldring (Marc is also an advisory board member for Spirit First). You can see more of his work at http://www.marcoclicks.com/. The back cover lists the names of all the poets whose works are presented inside.

At the moment we are in pre-press and expect full publication within a couple of weeks. Once we go to press, our book will be available for sale on Amazon.com.

In the meantime, here is a preview of the cover of our new book (click on the image for a better view).

faith

Faith is a state of openness or trust. To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don’t grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float. And the attitude of faith is the very opposite of clinging to belief, of holding on. In other words, a person who is fanatic in matters of religion, and clings to certain ideas about the nature of God and the universe, becomes a person who has no faith at all. Instead they are holding tight. But the attitude of faith is to let go, and become open to truth, whatever it might turn out to be. 
~ Alan Watts

photography by Madalina Diacanu

2011 Spirit First Meditation Poetry Contest

Spirit First is pleased to announce its second annual meditation poetry contest. Poetry submissions may be of any length and any style but must have a theme of meditation, mindfulness, silence, stillness, or solitude. Poems may reflect any discipline, any faith, or none. Poems must be previously unpublished. There is no cost to enter this contest.

Deadline to Enter: January 31, 2011

First Prize: $175
Second Prize: $125
Third Prize: $75
Special Category - Spoken Poem Prize: $75

Please do not enter more than three submissions. Sending more than three poems will lead to those poems being disqualified.

Please submit your poems by email unless you do not have access to the Internet. Poems will be accepted by U.S. Postal Service for those who do not have Internet access. All others are requested to be emailed. Poems sent by U.S. Postal Service will not be returned. Poems should be submitted with a cover note listing the author's name, address, telephone number, and email address. There is no cost to enter this contest. Submissions must be received no later than January 31, 2011.

Winners will be announced no later than March 31, 2011, on the Spirit First website: www.spiritfirst.org. Winning poems will be published on the Spirit First website and the Spirit First blog, and in the Spirit First newsletter (authors retain full rights to their poems). Selected poems may be invited to participate in an upcoming book publication (authors will retain full rights to their poems).

How to submit:

By email: Meditate@SpiritFirst.org

By U.S. Postal Service (for those without Internet access):

          Spirit First Poetry Contest
          PO Box 8076
          Langley Park, MD 20787

We look forward to reading your poems!

only breath

Only Breath

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu

Buddhist, Sufi, or Zen. Not any religion

or cultural system. I am not from the East

or the West, not out of the ocean or up

from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not

composed of elements at all. I do not exist,

am not an entity in this world or in the next,

did not descend from Adam and Eve or any

origin story. My place is placeless, a trace

of the traceless. Neither body or soul.

I belong to the beloved, have seen the two

worlds as one and that one call to and know,

first, last, outer, inner, only that

breath breathing human being.

~Rumi

From Essential Rumi

by Coleman Barks

Spoken Poem Winner

Our Spirit First annual poetry contest is being amended to include a special separate category for Spoken Word Poetry (also referred to as Performance Poetry). We were surprised to receive Spoken Word poems from writers across the country, with one of the poems even arriving in the form of a video (reviewing and judging, however, are made using written submissions). Our Spoken Word Poetry category (which invites all performance poetry including, but not limited to, rap poetry) will have a single winner who joins our list of poetry contest winners and receives a $50 prize.

We are pleased and honored to announce our Spoken Word Poetry winner for our 2010 poetry contest. 

Born and raised in the Bronx, Carmen Mojica is a 24-year-old poet, writer, workshop facilitator, and model. She is a graduate from the State University of New York at New Paltz and holds a bachelor's degree in Black Studies and Television/Radio Productions. Carmen is currently pursuing doula certification through a fellowship program with Hudson Perinatal Consortium and will be certified by the end of 2010. She is also a student of herbalism, holistic health and wellness, and dance. Carmen has published two books, I Loved You Once, and Hija De Mi Madre (My Mother's Daughter).  Read more about Carmen in our Spring Newsletter on our Spirit First website at www.SpiritFirst.org.

Moment of Reflection

I have come to conclude that my self is longing to exclude all that does not matter in this matter of being alive

That all the pleasures of the flesh are just distractions from positive reactions to the events that occur to us day by day

Some of us fail to exhale all the trivial and inhale the greater scheme of things; that all this is just a manifestation of a thought from a higher being; the formation and creation of spirits that defy these petty laws that obstruct and construct a diversion from the true meaning of what it is to breathe

And some of us find it hard to conceive and believe that all that functions and malfunctions before these devices we call eyes is just not real; just because it has materialized does not mean we shouldn’t realize how this world is simply another trial that our troubled souls are experiencing; 

For you see, we are all deities, musical notes that have been composed and played in a bittersweet symphony by the greatest composer of all time 

We are the most precious and golden intellections sprung from a being so great that it is the perfection we strive to achieve; 

That we are just energies in a circle that truly never ends

The secret to why our eyes cry and why we are alive, just barely, lies deep within the self that we often bury in layers of makeup just to collapse and rebuild and wake up to wander and squander our precious time, which in theory does not exist but rather serves to assist it who calls itself I am with the education of us

That we might be the wind in the door and understand that our mission is absolutely this and simply this: to learn what we forgot when we fell from grace and onto an unfamiliar face

That our ultimate goal should be to learn, educate and die; for it is in death that we are released into a peaceful eternity

So if anyone should speak to you of dying, know that dying is just the beginning of another lesson that is to ultimately just love unconditionally; just love because that’s how simple yet complex it is

So if anyone should fear death, they are fearing a near-life experience

by Carmen Mojica

Spoken Word Poetry Winner

Spirit First Poetry Contest 2010

The meaning of our self is not to be found in its
separateness from God and others, but in
the ceaseless realization of yoga, of union.
                                     ~ Rabindranath Tagore
 

photography by permission
cindy lee jones

grieving

Long ago in the middle of a speaking tour, addressing audiences from city to city, I found myself one day in a beach town. I had arrived late the night before, too late to see anything, and would be in the city for only one day before needing to leave for the next town. I wanted to see the ocean, though, if only for a moment. I wanted to breathe the ocean's air and drink her fragrance. So, during my lunch break, I left the conference center and walked two or three blocks to the ocean's edge. No time to change clothes, I went to see the beach wearing my business suit, stockings, and brand-new Etienne Aigner dress shoes. As I stepped off the street's asphalt, I removed my shoes and walked on the sand in my stockinged feet. The ocean was calm and beautiful with sparkling sunbeams dancing on the surface. It was a beautiful day. As I walked along the water's edge, though, I began to notice my feet getting dirty. After a few minutes the bottoms of my feet were black, coated with a tar-like substance. The beach looked clean, perfectly normal, but immediately underneath the beauty of the rolling sand something was terribly wrong. By the time I got back to the street, my feet were hopelessly sticky and gooey. The asphalt was blistering hot and I couldn't walk back to the conference in my bare feet, so I slipped my feet back into my new Italian shoes. I had never before (and have never since...) experienced anything like this in my life. As it happens to be, that beach had been the victim of an oil spill quite some time previously, and no matter how pristine the beach appeared to be, the tarry substance was always just below the surface. I was a mess. I was committed to the rest of the day in front of an audience with my fee, my hosiery, and my shoes filled with tar. I was in agony. At the end of the day I had to seek professional advice oh how to clean and how to heal my feet; my new shoes were ruined and had to be disposed of. Stains on my feet lingered for weeks.

I grieve for the enormous tragedy of the oil spill in the Gulf. I cannot watch the news. Every time I see an animal covered in the oil, struggling to move or struggling to breathe (or sometimes being already deceased), I break into tears. I don't talk of this event with anyone because just in the thinking of its horror I start to cry.

We did this. We have been responsible for the health and well being of our earth and every creature sharing it with us, yet we did this. I hope we will learn to do better. For now, all I can do is grieve.

in the right place at the right time

Yesterday the class I was teaching in San Antonio ended just a few minutes early...my driver arrived just a few minutes early...I showed up at the airport just a few minutes early...and because all passengers were present a few minutes early, we boarded the plane a few minutes early. All of this led to my being able to leave San Antonio just as the airport was unexpectedly being closed for the arrival of the Vice President. If I had not been early along with my few fellow passengers, the plane would have waited for regular departure time and we would have been delayed an hour or two beyond our scheduled time; I would then have missed my connection in Dallas and would have had to spend the night. Everything works out the way it needs to and I am always in the right place at the right time. 

Of course, if I had been delayed and if I had been stuck in Dallas for the night, that would then have been the right place and the right time for me and everything still would have been okay. It sounds like a riddle, but it's an amazing way of life.

Ever since I took into my life the mantra "I am always in the right place at the right time...meeting the right people...being offered the best opportunities," I have found it to be true. I don't mean I embraced it lightly, but I took it deeply into my soul. In the beginning I spoke it aloud many times a day beginning with waking and ending with laying me down to sleep (not just saying it but deeply feeling it). Soon I found myself being reminded of the words whenever I perceived something as being out of place (like this...I took the wrong exit from a highway and in my dismay I suddenly remembered my mantra and said aloud "I am always in the right place at the right time..." My incorrect exit turned out to be better for my destination than my planned one). I do not mean that I say this or practice it so I will get what I want (or get what I think I want), I practice it to always embrace what is present as being exactly what is needed. In the course of this practice my life increasingly shifts into everything I could want it to be.

photography by permission

cindy lee jones

unless you...

Unless you

visit the dark places, you'll never

feel the sea pull you in and under,

swallowing words before they form.

Until you visit places within you

cloistered and constant, you will travel

in a tourist daze, wrought with too much

of what endures, depletes.

If you never turn from light, close

your eyes, feel the life inside, you'll leave

the church, the beach, your self,

knowing nothing more.

Unless you are mute, you will not

know your urgent heart, how it beats

between the thin skin of yes and no.

~ by Drew Myron

First-place winner

Spirit First Poetry Contest 2010

photography by permission

marc goldring

a free for all

A free for all

There was a performance artist, Bill Harding,

Who used to carry about a briefcase filled with sod.

He'd surprise everyone by opening it,

Setting it down, removing his shoes, and stepping into his

Own private park.

Meditation's like that.

My parents used to fly private airplanes.

It always amazed me that down here it could be

Grey and miserable and full of car horns and traffic lights

And up there, up past the clouds,

Petty problems disappeared and everything was always peaceful.

Meditation's like that.

You've maybe heard about creating a special place

To hold in your mind, at the dentist's, in traffic, under stress.

I used to always use the linens department at Sears or Penney's.

Among soft folded towels in coral and turquoise,

among display beds piled high with throw pillows and matching comforters,

Who could be worried?

Meditation's like that.

Your own private park you can slip off to whenever you need

A quiet moment to reconnect to the Earth and all that turns with it

and all it turns in.

Your own blue sky above the rain clouds you can fly off to whenever you need

To rise above the trivial rain showers of the day to day,

to become the sky itself.

Your own perfect image of calm and order,

not necessitating terrycloth or combed cotton or 100% down

a realization that everything is in its perfect place and time,

including you.

It's all yours. It's all mine.

Any time.

Meditation's like that.

by Wendy Winn

Second-place winner

Spirit First Poetry Contest 2010 

coat sleeve pratapana

Coat Sleeve Pratapana
for Devarshi

Imagine a thousand snow globes of every place you've ever been,

all that you've tasted, all that has moved you,

all that you have loved.

Good pilgrim, shake all that glitter inside you

re-awakening your own inner magic

a thousand worlds shining through you

and as you return to stillness

notice who you truly are in this moment.

~ by Carly Sachs

Third-place winner

Spirit First Poetry Contest 2010 

stillness is like water

Stillness Is Like Water

Stillness is like water

moving deep inside the earth

seeping slowly between rocks

trickling down

in the dark

a tide moving inward

Stillness is the space

between breaths

inside heartbeats

the silence of the gathering wave

that never breaks

Stillness blankets me

cushions me against my own

sharp edges

wraps me in her protective shawl

keeps my tender heart

from ripping

on the thorns

of the world

~ by Judith Prest

Third-place winner

Spirit First Poetry Contest 2010

photography by permission

cindy lee jones 

today, snow is my medicine

When the wind blows, that is my medicine.
When it rains, that is my medicine.

When it hails, that is my medicine.

When it becomes clear after the storm, that is my medicine.

        ~by Wolf Collar, Native American Shaman & Medicine Man (1870)

photography by permission

madalina diacanu

741 poems in my lap

I could not have imagined a more beautiful response to my request for submissions of poetry on the themes of meditation and mindfulness. I have 741 poems in my lap (our contest is now closed...), and such beautiful works they are. Because we have so many good writings to choose from, we will pursue our plans for creating a book manuscript. I began talking with printers today.

We received entries from 42 states in the United States, with the state most represented being New York (80 entries) followed by California (51 entries). The state of Utah had one single entry (for which I am deeply grateful...). We received 31 poems that did not have location information so perhaps the 8 missing states are represented there.

We received entries from 23 foreign countries including Armenia, Australia, Cameroon, Canada, Chile, England, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Luxembourg, Malta, Mexico, Nigeria, Pakistan, Philippines, Romania, Scotland, South Africa, Turkey, Wales (Cymru). Canada came in with 21 entries, India with 18, and South Africa with 11. I am especially pleased and proud of our participating poets who have a different mother tongue. Thank you for making this extra effort to express your poetry in our English language.

Thank you, everyone, for your amazing, beautiful writings. Your words are a light into the world.

what went well for you today?

Several weeks ago a friend of mine became ill, and during her diagnosis her doctor explained that her illness was caused by stress. This smart, savvy friend of mine set about to do everything she could to diminish stress in her life (she wanted to do whatever was held within her power), and one step she took was so beautiful that it would be wise for all of us to take it up as a practice.

My friend noticed that at the end of any given day she, and everyone around her, would ask the question, "How was your day?" She noticed that typically answers went in the direction of "Traffic was a bear today..." or "My boss was on my case again today..." She decided to change the direction of conversations by changing the question, and instead of asking "How was your day today?" she began to ask "What went well for you today?" This became a daily practice for her and her loved ones. The direction of conversations changed, the perspective on life changed, energy changed, and peace was enlarged.

And so I ask you...what went well for you today?

photography by permission
cindy lee jones

500 poems and still counting...

We now have more than 500 poems related to meditation, mindfulness, stillness, silence, and solitude. What an amazing gift, to be able to touch what you taste when you drink from the waters of meditation and mindfulness. Thank you for so much beauty.

We continue to receive entries for our contest through the end of this month.

Many of us live all our lives in thrall to the traditions in which we are born. Others question their tribal inheritance and embark upon a lifetime of exploration. The former end up believing they know everything. The latter end as they began, in ignorance -- but now a willingly-professed ignorance that is sublime in its tentatively-held and ever-expanding wealth of knowledge. ~ Chet Raymo

photography by permission
madalina diacanu

350 poems

I turn down the lights...burn an incense...light a candle...and begin reading the day's poems. I read slowly, and aloud. Sometimes I cry because, well, good poetry makes me cry. I am deeply touched by the outpouring of the Universe in the form of poetry for our first Spirit First poetry contest. I have received 350 poems, and more arrive every day.

So far I have heard from poets in 39 states and 17 foreign countries, from poets in their teens, poets nearly ninety, and poets of every age in between. I've received poems from men and from women, from city people and country people, from Christians and Muslims and Buddhists and those who make no mention of anything organized. I've received poems from writers who are much accomplished and writers who are undiscovered. And every poem is read quietly, slowly, and aloud, each word spoken into the world where it becomes part of the air we breathe and mingles with the light that guides us.

For this year's competition, Spirit First continues to receive poems for two more weeks.