by John O’Donohue
No one knew the name of this day;
Born quietly from deepest night,
It hid its face in light,
Demanded nothing for itself,
Opened out to offer each of us
A field of brightness that traveled ahead,
Providing in time, ground to hold our footsteps
And the light of thought to show the way.
The mind of the day draws no attention;
It dwells within the silence with elegance
To create a space for all our words,
Drawing us to listen inward and outward.
We seldom notice how each day is a holy place
Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,
Transforming our broken fragments
Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.
Somewhere in us a dignity presides
That is more gracious than the smallness
That fuels us with fear and force,
A dignity that trusts the form a day takes.
So at the end of this day, we give thanks
For being betrothed to the unknown
And for the secret work
Through which the mind of the day
And wisdom of the soul become one.
Exploring the concepts of Listening in Dreams, Deep Listening, Black Quantum Futurism, and Quantum Listening
A new story from Sophie read at the Sophie Strand was a guest speaker at Bayo Akomolafe's webinar The Wandering, Winding Way of the Wound webinar
Dazzling timelapse shows how microbes spoil our food – and sometimes enrich it.
We need Afrofuturism; not as a box to put people in, but as a lens with which to change the way we imagine and actualize an inclusive future. A future where Black people are in control of their own destinies.
SAND guest speaker with a taste of Sufi Whirling
exploring into the life and work of musician and Sufi teacher Hazrat Inayat Khan
These songs — the oldest musical expressions of the slave experience in this country — still have a lot to teach us about how we think about death and dignity.
A duet of cello and birdsong
The meaning of death and dying in a death-phobic culture and more on Sounds of SAND Episode 2
a masterpiece album from Pulitzer Prize winning musician dealing with intergenerational trauma
Zen Buddhism and its relation to Nonduality, the symbolism of the ensō (円相, "circular form") calligraphy, and the Heart Sutra
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams... his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream... his wings are clipped and his feet are tied... so he opens his throat to sing.
thicken, and begin to fall into the world below like stars, or the feathers of some unimaginable bird
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