Posts Tagged ‘poetry’



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Love a Laugh

In honor of laughing, I share Snoopy and Hafiz with you today.




Jealous Hearing Someone Laugh
by Hafiz

“Have you ever felt jealous hearing someone laugh? And then began to think to yourself,

‘Why am I so caught in the world’s snare? Why don’t I know right now the freedom in other voices when their spirit like an arrow takes flight above the hour’s concern?’

But the heart’s laughter is never there to taunt another, especially if the other is feeling low.

Real laughter is a waving, a beckoning, a message, a calling to all that says,

‘Over here, come over here for a minute…where things look so different, and you can have more fun!’ “


Source:  A Year with Hafiz Daily Contemplations  by Daniel Ladinsky

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Trust to Love

Shattered Mirrors

By Susan Heffron Hajec, inspired from
Mimi Foyle,’s Shattered Mirrors

I will turn to meet my destiny,
reflected in shattered mirrors.
The world breaks
My effort is needed.

I am a humble artist
with prayerful hands
I nourish new life.

In dark corners,
unmolded clay in my hand
in broken places
molding my earthly clod
to reflect what is neglected.

I will trust to love.

Hello Napkinwriter readers. Well just a few moments ago, my blog was shattered…..I typed “glog”. That’s what I feel like now. I had expressed in the first “blank” issue of this, how many ways this workshop experience at WWAM from artist/writer Kittie Bintz had excited me.  Now, I am left looking in a seeminly empty draft land to come up with my version.

Recently on MeetUp, I joined a WordPress group and missed the first meeting. This is one of the first things I want to find out how to avoid or at least be a good enough sleuth to recover it.

This experience was about creating an altar to our muse. Kittie, a soon to be retiring public school art teacher, was a vivacious guiding presence, as we mixed water color, tea lights, collage images,words  and shattered glass to our creations.

The word “retired” didn’t really fit Kittie, so I suggested she was “re-FIRING” instead, and that word stuck, as I heard it repeated among the more than 50 attendees of WWAM Weekend at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs New York.

What a weekend retreat it was. But then again, we creative’s don’t really retreat from life, rather we continue to re-TREAT the world with continuing inspirations, images, ceremony and words.

The inspiration for my creation came from Mimi Foyle’s poem, Shattered Mirrors, which I share here.   I live in the truth that it is indeed prayerful hands and honoring the Mystery that has healed me from my own wounded and light-deprived places in life.

I am in deep gratitude for the great gift of life I enjoy.

Shattered Mirrors
Mimi Foyle

i will turn to meet my destiny,
reflected in shattered mirrors.
heart broken open,
i will pick up the pieces
no matter how sharp
to reflect
what is neglected
in dark corners.
wounded, light-deprived,
with prayerful hands i’ll
recycle devastation to
nourish new life
art, like gardening
is an act of faith and healing,
shining for the world.
as Mystery’s greater
than the sum of all suffering,

I will trust to Love.

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Elephant - believe in Magic


Note from Napkinwriter:  I am sharing a guest blog from creative friend , writer, creative journey leader, workshop presenter and Coach, Suzanne Murray. I hope to be on a trip with her one-day, it won’t matter much, where — it will be a grand adventure just being together.



plus Creativity or Writing Coaching Packages

& Spring 2013 Yosemite Retreats &

The Heart & Soul of Ireland – Journey to the West of Ireland, May 2013


I recently re-read Maya Angelou’s beautiful poem for the Christmas season titled Amazing Peace. As I read I could feel my heart open more fully and tears form in my eyes as I could feel the truth of the words working through me. We can all feel the need for peace in the world and in ourselves. And the poems reminds me of the power of poetry and all creative acts to open our hearts and expanded minds to new possibilities and solutions

One of the solutions for world peace is keeping an open heart and sending from your heart compassion and care to areas of the world troubled by storms, war and other crisis. This is exactly what the Global Coherence Initiative organizes people to do. An offshoot of the Institute of Heartmath they are a group of scientists working with the discovery that the magnetic field of the human heart is in direct communication on the energetic level of feelings with the magnetic field of the Earth. (This discover was made by a NASA scientist studying fluctuation in the earth’s magnetic field who on September 11, 2001 noticed an off the charts fluctuation as people around the world poured their heart’s concerns over the events of that day in America.) This lead scientists to the awareness that by sending focused care from our heart’s to areas of trouble we can calm the Earth’s weather and people’s fear and distress during disasters.

The Global Coherence Initiative suggests that by focusing your attention in our hearts and breathing our love and compassion into the planetary field for all those suffering from weather events or conflicts and also send our coherent heart energy to leaders to keep working together to find sustainable solutions for global problem and hold the vision for increased peace on the planet without putting time restrictions on it. Peace will result as we increase our collective ability to get along.

To help with the inspiration I’ve included below two of my favorite peoms on the theme of peace. One is Maya Angelou’s Amazing Peace.

Wishing you the peace of the season, from my heart to yours.

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

Amazing Peace


Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.
Flood waters await us in our avenues.

Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and grey and threatening.

We question ourselves.
What have we done
to so affront nature?
We worry God.
Are you there? Are you there really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?

Into this climate of fear and apprehension,
Christmas enters,
Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope
And singing carols of forgiveness
high up in the bright air.
The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,
Come the way of friendship.

It is the Glad Season.
Thunder ebbs to silence
and lightning sleeps quietly in the corner.
Flood waters recede into memory.
Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us
As we make our way to higher ground.

Hope is born again in the faces of children
It rides on the shoulders of our aged
as they walk into their sunsets.
Hope spreads around the earth,
brightening all things,
Even hate which crouches,
breeding in dark corridors.

In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.
At first it is too soft.
Then only half heard.
We listen carefully as it gathers strength.
We hear a sweetness.
The word is Peace.
It is loud now.
It is louder.
Louder than the explosion of bombs.

We tremble at the sound.
We are thrilled by its presence.
It is what we have hungered for.
Not just the absence of war.
But true Peace.
A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.
Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Come and fill us and our world with your majesty.
We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian,
Implore you to stay a while with us.
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community.

It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.

On this platform of peace, we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.

At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ
Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues at the coming of hope.
All the earth’s tribes loosen their voices
To celebrate the promise of Peace.

We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and Non-Believers,
Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves
And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation.

Peace, My Brother.
Peace, My Sister.
Peace, My Soul.

– Maya Angelou


plus Access Conscious The Bars Class & Spring Retreats to Yosemite & Ireland

THE HEART & SOUL OF IRELANDJourney to the West of Ireland

Dublin, Galway, County Clare, The Aran Islands

May 9 to May 16, 2013

for more info go to http://creativitygoeswild.com/west-of-ireland/

YOSEMITE RETREATS – Writing for Wisdom, Clarity & Creative Exploration

Traveling by Train


Weekend Retreats Spring 2013


Join me as writing teacher, life & creativity coach and professional naturalist for a Weekend Retreats where we draw on the inspiration from the beauty and magnificence of Yosemite Valley for wisdom and clarity. I’ve has been going to Yosemite all my life and lived there when I worked as an educator for Yosemite Institute. I’m really excited to share the wonders and secrets of this place with others especially during the time of year when there are fewer visitors and you can more easily feel the power of the place. These are three full days and traveling by train makes them very relaxing from the start. We arrive at the lodge at noon on Friday with time to write, relax, enjoy a walk or the spa. No writing experience necessary. We will work with simple, powerful techniques to working with your creativity imagination in writing for self discovery or creative expression.

Suzanne thanks for the wonderful weekend. Your superb guidance, the food, the accommodation, the train were all perfect. It was such a rich, relaxing and transformational experience. I feel new and expanded! – Elizabeth Markum

THE HEART OF WRITING – Four Week Coaching Package
Do you want to ignite your creativity and show up to your writing on a regular basis or go deeper into the process and craft? I offer online coaching to support you and coach you through any resistance or problems along the way. I can send you daily lessons and assignments that cover important aspects of the writing process and information on craft. Or we can tailor our work together to really fit your specific needs. I hold the space of unconditional acceptance and support to nurturing your unique voice  and work on the stories that are really important to you.Includes a half hour phone session with four weeks of online support with regular assignments and check ins for $195

CREATIVITY COACHING – Four Week Coaching Package
Do you want to experience the pleasure and joy that comes from adding satisfaction and meaning and a sense of well being to your life through creative expression. I will offer practical, emotional and soulful strategies to help you fully uncover your creative gifts and support yourself in expressing them. I will provide encouragement and support in understanding of the creative process and its stages and exercises for accessing the wisdom of your imagination. I’ll help you set realistic goals and support you in achieving them. We will work with tools for coaching yourself through the issues that get in the way of your creativity including career concerns, blocks, limiting beliefs, relationship issues and the existential and spiritual questions that can arise from wanting and needing to create.

includes a half hour phone session with four weeks of online support with regular assignments and check ins for $195

Access Consciousness The Bars Class
I have been working with Access Consciousness for almost two years and it has certainly expanded my life in wonderful ways including a deep sense of inner peace and more space to create a life a love. I am now a certified Access Consciousness Bars Facilitator available for both individual sessions and to teach The Bars classes in Sonoma County. The Bars has assisted thousands of people in changing many aspects of their body and their life including problems with sleep, health and weight, money, relationships, anxiety, stress and so much more! At the least you will feel like you have just had the best massage of your life. At best your whole life can change into something greater with total ease.

About The Bars Classes In this one day Access Bars Workshop you are guided through the process by giving two sessions of the Bars and receiving two sessions. By the end of the day you will be certified as a Bars practitioner and able to “run the Bars” the on others. It’s a great beginning of your own healing practice or a wonderful addition if you already work with other modalities.

Sunday, December 2, 10 am to 6 pm

downtown Sebastopol, Sonoma County

$200 for first time, $100 if repeating within one year

Transformational Coaching

Discovering Your Joy and Purpose with Creative Exploration
I am really excited to offer a new variation to life coaching where we work with the expanded intelligence of our creativity to discover our heart’s desire. Take a couple of minutes and imagine the life you would be living if you really could have anything you want. Imagine that you are living from your full potential and that all is possible. Where would you be living, what would you be doing, who would you be with, and what contribution would you be making to the world. Then consider where you are now in your life, what’s stopping you and imagine trying to get where you want to go all on your own. If going it alone feels like too much of a stretch or you have no idea where to start you might want to consider coaching. We also work with tools that work with the belief systems that get in the way. For life coaching I am offering a free 20 minute consult to see if coaching is right for you. For more information on a special offer visit www.creativitygoeswild.com/ life-coaching/

For more detailed information on all my offerings check web site at www.creativitygoeswild.com or call Suzanne Murray at 707.360.7776 or email suzmurr@yahoo.com. Also check out my Blog at www.creativitygoeswild.com/ blog for ideas on writing, creativity and life coaching.  Follow me on Twitter at wildcreativity where I tweet inspirational quotes for creativity and life.

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Dad & Sue’s Birthdays – 1970

My birthday comes right after New Year’s Day on January second. I celebrate it. Just after my birthday comes my father’s birthday on January fourth. I always remember it. This year, dad would have been ninety-six. He died suddenly in July 1977.

Dad was a fun-loving, hard-working Irishman from Heffron heritage who loved Eisenhour, both as a military general and an American President. The black Chevrolet was his choice of car for many years before he could think of owning any other car.

Born in upper Wisconsin, his boyhood bore both the harshness of the seasonal weather and the responsibilities of the oldest son, providing for his mother and younger sister after his woodsman father passed away while he,  Anthony Junior (Tony), was still young.

He attended teachers college for a certificate, and began trading “trades” to raise more money for his own keep and for his family. He was proud of teaching in a “one-room” schoolhouse like we heard of in the Little House on the Prairie tales.

He was a police officer on the Eau Claire Wisconsin police force in the late 1930s and early 1940s and really did catch “the bad guys” with his parnter, Scotty. He had a brown scrapbook, now in my brother’s possession, that contained medals, photos, and newspaper clips of many “take-downs” during his law and order career. More than a few photos displayed dad and his fellow law officers, standing with one leg hitched up upon the running board of that era’s car — their chase vechicle.

He met the first love of his life, my birth mother, when he experienced a stay in the hospital (I believe it was Luther, but it could have been Sacred Heart Hospital, I am not sure) to pass a kidney stone which was giving him great grief. While there, he was in the care of a beautiful Norweigian nurse named Doris, whom he began to court with his wild, Irish charm.

 You would have to look hard and long through their dating and early marriage black and white photos to find a “serious” pose among them. Together they were always “horsing around” with each other or making fun of whoever was behind the camera. Always, their bright white teeth flashing in wide smiles or outright belly-laughter.

Into this family I was born, after dad and Doris had adopted my older brother from a Catholic orphanage. Mom convinced dad that nobody could love this orphan baby boy the way they could together, and home they came with Dave.  Soon after his arrival, mom became pregnant with me. But it was a troubled pregnancy and she delivered me early with etopic poisoning, complicated by kidney failure. She died just a few days after my birth and dad’s birthday. 

Dad was only in his late twenties when this personal tradegy came upon him. He had a young son and daughter to care for in the aftermath, and I can only guess how he healed his grief, for it was a mysterious fact that this was never discussed in the family with us children, even when we reached adulthood. It is a conversation I wish I would have had the courage to start. I certainly practiced it often enough.

I do know he never had any doubts about providing for his two children as a widower single parent and he set forth with strong determination to do so, enlisting two grandmothers’ help along the way. Dad left the police department in search of more income to support his growing family, and managed a sports store, still in Eau Claire.  

By the time I was around two years old, another brunette Norweigian woman caught his eye and his heart and Marion would come into our home as his wife and our new mother. This love affair lasted forever — or to say correctly — to the time of his death in 1977 and long after that in Marion’s heart until she could no longer remember any of us due to the memory robbery visited upon her in Alzheimers disease.

Tony and Marion gave birth to my youngest brother, John and we were one complete family of five from the 1940s until the mid-sixties when we children started forging our own paths in life; Dave in the Coast Guard; Sue married and moved to Kentucky; and John finishing up high school.

Dad was in the propane gas business by that time, managing a plant in Lansing, Michigan when an opportunity arose around 1968 to transfer his talents and work to a tropical paradise, St. Thomas, Virgin Island and manage a plant there. They did that together, mom working for the company too. It was a magic “begin again” moment for both of them and they loved living and working there and building new friendships and awarenesses with island culture. 

They didn’t really take up sea fishing there in the tropics but when they lived in Wisconsin and Michigan, it was one of their favorite pastimes and their most ideal vacation.

They had a favorite spot in Chapleau, Ontario where they stayed in a rustic cabin at Moosehorn Lodge, became faithful friends of the owner-couple and traveled there yearly for a one week vacation on the crystal blue water lakes in a quiet little dinghy putt-putt motor boat. This would be accompanied by rest and relaxation in the cabin and great home-cooking of fresh lake fish, fried potatoes and veggies.

In 1977, now living in the VI, they had not been to Canada for quite some time. That year, they were looking into a cruise trip to their home countries of Ireland and Norway, but there was some holdup in aquiring their passports and dad decided to scrap the whole idea and come back to Lansing, borrow a car from Dave, and drive up to Moosehorn Lodge.

This change of plans was a blessing in disguise, although none of us in the family felt immediately blessed by what happened on the second day of their vacation. Dad felt tired so they relaxed in the cabin the first day of vacation. But on the first fishing trip the next day, dad suffered a fatal heart attack  in the boat and died instantly even though mom tried to help with CPR. After securing the boat in the obscure landing area, she got an ambulance through the help of the lodge owners. Thus began a quick trip ito the hospital in Chapleau, but a rescue of dad’s life was not possible.

Yet, Dave and John were able to be with mom soon after the distressing news which would not have been possible had mom and dad gone to Europe as planned.  The shock value of dad’s death couldn’t have been higher for mom or for us. One month earlier, my husband and I just moved and started a business in a town not far from Lansing, and I was awaiting dad and mom’s visit to us when they returned from Canada, in just one week.

It had been over a year since I had seen them, and so much had changed in our life since we acquired the business that I was truly counting the days until I would see them and talk to them again. That I would not talk to my dad ever again became a bitter, bitter pill to swallow.

 The complete opposites of “saying hello” and having to “say goodbye” was a battle I played out in my soul for a long time after. Eventually, I penned a poem on paper, and set it on the backdrop paper from which I have my Mystic Muse with the bell coming forward. The trees remind me of the Canadian country mom and dad loved so much. Today, dad, my spirit says “hello” to your spirit, just as it has done each year near your birthday.

Canadian Pines

                                         He left without
                                                   saying good-bye
                                         amidst Canadian pines
                                                    and placid blue lakes.
                                         I had meant to say hello
                                                     before he would go.
                                          But the chance
                                                     passed me by.

                                           He was not a continent away
                                                     as had been their plan
                                           to visit for the first time
                                                     each of their native homelands.
                                            They came instead
                                                      that hot week in July
                                             to his favorite place on earth.

                                              His tired and restless spirit
                                                       would feed
                                                on lake-fresh fish
                                                         he caught.
                                                 And the peace he found
                                                         in the northern breeze
                                                 always soothed his troubled heart.

                                                 He would rest and relax
                                                         and have fun with his mate
                                                 in the place which he
                                                          so loved.

                                                  And then —
                                                          he would visit me.

                                                  But he left instead
                                                         at the end of the day
                                                   before he got off the lake.
                                                   It broke my heart he had                                                             to go.
                                                   Because you see, I still had meant
                                                            to say




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