Spiritual Mulching

Sodden, mottled mulch
Mercurial Meanders
Lush feast for Gaia

(soul feast for the divine)


Photo Credit: pixabay.com

The Grace Of Empty Space

Curious, isn’t it?
How laying bare 
one emptiness
exposes another
        and another
        and another.

Yesterday my friend’s cat
snuggled in her lap as we met
and I woke up later reaching for mine
but found instead the space 
where he used to be.
Where a sister used or be
            a brother
            a friend.

As this wave of grief recedes
I comb the beach of my soul
for bits of grace left behind.
Emptiness isn’t so empty after all.

c. Rita H Kowats
September 26, 2021


“After trauma the world is experienced with a different nervous system.“

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk

Photo credit: shininglightenergyworks.com

On this day of remembering the attacks on the United States on September 11, 2001, the effects of trauma are very much with me.

I began my day listening to family members read the names of victims. Then I read the newsletter from my 55+ apartment building which announces that management is being harrassed and treated as less than human. It was not stated, but I wonder if as Asian Americans, they are being unconsciously scapegoated for “causing” the pandemic. I am brought back to our response to 9/11: an endless war laced with anti Muslim sentiment.

We are afraid. We feel helpless. Instead of reimagining a life without the threat of COVID, thus ending the power it has over us, we project our fear and rage on the nearest target.

I send light today to all the loved ones left behind.  May we all find healing.  Here is a guided meditation to help us through.

Surprised By Presence

Two crows canoodling
On a fence
Sound the mindfulness bell,
Calling me back to presence.

I snuggle into sister soul
Canoodling with the divine,
While warmed by gracious grace.

c. Rita Hemmer Kowats August 29, 2021

Light In August

In William Faulkner’s Light in August, Reverend Hightower marvels at “how that fading copper light would seem almost audible, like a dying yellow fall of trumpets dying into an interval of silence and waiting”* 

In the embers of an August day
I stroll through rows of magnificent dahlias,
waning sun casting muted light on a kaleidoscope 
of unexpected patterns of crimson, yellow, orange and pink.

In the last hurrah of summer
this rich contrast of muted light on dazzling dahlias
is an unexpected harbinger of hibernation,
A time of soulseeing by fresh angles of light,
waiting for outside sun to rise and warm again.

Summer still.
Yet I stroll through this “interval of silence and waiting”*
expecting the gift of harvest and the calm of the cave.

c. Rita H Kowats 8/9/2021

Spiritual Listening

It becomes increasingly more lonely to live a life of presence in today’s world. We try to listen deeply and the other drinks in the empathy we channel.  Then when we need deep listening, it is often not to be found.  We are greeted with a barrage of self-absorbed words tripping over more words. We survive by leaning into the constant presence of the divine that informs and sustains us.  

We desire to listen as an unconditional gift, even making it an intentional spiritual practice; however, our humanity longs for reciprocation. May we live into a bountiful space where deep listening defines our humanity and each one is blessed with a generous listener.

Constant Spirit Sprung

My young self shook
with sheer terror
in the Disclosure Confrontation Marathon
where they likened me to a monkey
swinging from bar to bar
shrieking,”Look at me, look at me!”

A constant stream of words
“saying nothing worth hearing” until,
the truth I sought so desperately
welled up from Constant Spirit

“I don’t love anyone because I don’t know how.”

to know a starting point for growth.

Disclosure Confrontation Marathon-
No deep listening here.
Trauma aside, it pushed me onto the path.
How much better to have been led to it.

c. Rita Hemmer Kowats 7/31/2021

photo Credit: Pexels.com

Intentional Speaking: A Spiritual Practice

When I am giddy with the prospect of juicy gossip, John O’Donohue throws down this gauntlet to me:

May you not disrespect your mystery
 through brittle words or false belonging.

-“For Absence” in To Bless The Space Between Us

Physicists tell us that our thoughts are energy and energy doesn’t die.  Do I really want the negative energy of gossip to be my lingering legacy in the universe?