Introspection

Thirty spokes converge on a single hub, but it is in the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the cart lies.

Clay is molded to make a pot, but it is in the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the clay pot lies.

Cut out doors and windows to make a room, but it is in the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the room lies.

Tao Te Ching

~

Whose woods these are
I think I know
His house is in the village though
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods
fill up with snow

—Robert Frost

~

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments

—Oriah, The Invitation

~

No one has heard thought
or listened to a mind
But where people have lived in inwardness
The air is charged with blessing
and does bless
Windows look out on mountains
and the walls are kind

May Sarton

~

I would like to linger here in silence.

Sarah McLachlan

Poem: The Work of Happiness

Poem: Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening

Haiku Mind

Winter Morning Walks

Nine Gates

The Book of Symbols

On dry gardens

The Art of Stillness