Music Monday: Do not stand at my grave and weep

Aside from the slightly Pagan overtones ;-), I’ve recently really been enjoying “Do not stand at my grave and weep” by Leah:

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

Wise Words On Wednesday: Kenosis

Kenosis

Whether it’s turning twenty-one, forty, or sixty-five, whether it’s losing your health or your hair, your books or your beauty, your money or your memory, a person you love or a possession you prize, yesterday’s rapture or today’s applause, you have to move on. Essential to the human’s pilgrimage to the Christian journey is the self-emptying more or less like Christ’s own emptying. Time and again, from womb to tomb, you have to let go. And to let go is to die a little. It’s painful, it can be bloody; and so we hang [on], clutch our yesterday’s, like Linus’s blanket, refuse to grow

– Walter Burghardt

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