Leisure the word

Making a Case for LEISURE

Leisure the word

Now that I am retired…

I have leisure to paint my nails to complement my cat’s fur as I pet him.  leisure nail paint on sherlock

I have leisure to solve jigsaw puzzles while contemplating the BBC Newshour.

leisure jigsaw puzzle

I have the leisure to read The Danish Girl  simultaneously flipping in and out of Saint Google to learn more about the real lives of these extraordinary women.

I have the leisure to stroll alongside Puget Sound shooting thought-provoking photos.

Leading to Nowhere for leisure post


I have the leisure to write for uninterrupted hours dipping into soul depth only to emerge in the welcome reality of holy mundanity.

I have the leisure to listen to the spaces between words instead of riding on their persistent melody.

I have the leisure to listen to the subtle whispers of Spirit missed while caught in the throes of THE BRAND.

I make a case for leisure.  I make a case for luxuriating in the leisure of 70.  It is not given to me to pretend that it is the new 60.  At last I can breathe. So I will.


SoulHouse Meditation

Thank you for your presence here.  Before you journey on this guided meditation you may want to immerse yourself in this lovely, brief video:

The lighthouse

 It is dusk. You are walking on a path to a lighthouse (pause). You draw closer to the lighthouse and look up at

e02f6f23999975aea6f5195982c8274f.jpg in the storm

it. (pause). You enter it and begin to climb the stairs – up and up… and arrive at the top (pause). 15b30583b0a6198bc5bef79a5ea8d867.jpg staircase 2Outside, it is dark now… you see the beam of light, as it rotates (pause). Now it shines on a particular place (pause). You look, you see what it illuminates…’


~ Art Therapy Exercises: Inspirational and Practical Ideas to Stimulate the Imagination Kindle Edition by Liesl Silverstone

My Meditation

SoulHouse Lighthouse meditation light in space

Off on a distant dune a lighthouse stands watch as if it waits for me.  I pause expectantly at the stable siren hoping to hear a summons.  The door is a seasoned wall of chinks that creaks its displeasure when I push it open. The draft from cracked windows at the top of a serpentine staircase sucks me upward, the sound a call uttered and echoed beyond time.  I am home, harbored from the buffets of ego storms.  Up, up, I wind retracing steps taken in spirit womb until the radiant beam at the crown makes its rounds catching me in a different light with each rotation.

Wind breaking through window cracks chills my body, while outside efferent clouds open an indigo space illumined fleetingly by the next rotation of the light.  I hear a familiar voice with an invitation riding on its timbre, “Come through.”  Trepidation ambushes exhilaration because I recognize the voice.  I recognize the space.  For now it is enough to contemplate the light; when I have become the light I shall come through.

Sherlock Portrait 3-22-16

My Cat Is My Spiritual Guide


Sherlock Portrait 3-22-16



My human spiritual guide is quite the cat’s meow, but my cat is also quite a guide. Sometimes Sherlock is a sleepy sleuth. Other times he attacks birds flitting across my tablet screen.  He waits for me to stir In the spare morning hours then butts me with his head, the steam engine purring a clear message,”Feed me!” I hear the words of Jesus, “Seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to you.” Why do I hesitate to ask for what I need? My cat-guide teaches, “Don’t just ask, demand!”

Mr. Holmes rests peacefully on my lap as I muse, undisturbed by outside noise or inside angst.  Vulnerable and trusting he accepts each stroke of my hand and the love which accompanies them.  His simple, open spirit invites me to let go of constant activity and communication and to rest securely in my center.  The ability to do that calls for a self-acceptance unfettered by the need to prove myself with frantic feats of competence.  This feline companion is a cat of immense proportion who readily throws his weight around with the confidence of a majestic Leo.  No “Snagglepuss” is he.  Yet…he rests. He is vulnerable. He trusts.

Sherlock open and vulnerable

Animals are mirrors for us.  We will find spiritual guidance in them if we learn how to look for it.

Please enjoy the attached video in the context of the cat as spiritual director.  A friend of a friend posted it on Facebook with the caption, “This cat could be my spiritual director.”  I saved it and whenever I need a belly laugh, I pull it out of my bookmarks.  Enjoy!





Liberation through Seeings by Alex Grey on Pinterest 2

“The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God’s eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, one loving.”  Meister Eckhart


Some of you are aware of my love for this quote which has graced my posts more than once in an ongoing attempt to understand and live it.This is what it says to me today.  It’s a bit cryptic.  Plunge right in!

eye of god 2

Photo Credit: Liberation Through Seeings – Alex Grey – www.alexgrey.com / Sacred Geometry ♥











































Skagit Valley Tulips
Washington State  USA

Sacred Cycles Once Again

An invitation from years past to meditate on brooding-baring-bearing in the now of these troubled times.

“The seed of God is in us. Given an intelligent and hard-working farmer, it will thrive and grow up to God, whose seed it is; and accordingly its fruits will be God-nature. Pear seeds grow into pear trees, nut seeds into nut trees, and God-seed into God.” Meister Eckhart

Sacred Cycles

While resting beside Echo Lake,
A thriving refuge tucked aside from concrete carvings,
I am summoned to attention by two red-winged black birds.
He perches atop a winter-withered reed.
She plunges deep into the safe bosom of branches and she stays.
The primordial rhythm endures
Echoing the sacred cycle
Set in motion by bits of star dust
Burst from the verdant void before time.

Bird eggs into birds
Pear seeds into pear trees
Nut seeds into nut trees
Human seeds into humans
God seed into God.

In humans
God-gene generates godliness.
Like red-winged black birds
Hatching eggs,
Human souls echo the same cycle:
Return, return, return
Return to the God seed
To brood and bare.

© rita h kowats 2014

Prophet Passages

canyon  photo pin photo credit a href=httpwww.flickr.comphotos75683070@N0070611346Near Spider Rock, Canyon de Chelly National Monument near Chinle, Navajo Nation, Arizonaa via a href=httpphotopin.comphotopina a hr

The Exile Symbolized: Ezekiel 12:1-16

This mime of the prophet Exekiel has an urgent message for us today.  Our world seems to be in spiritual exile.  Go forth.


The Call

Prophet  Seers Face East
Feet firmly planted in soulplace.

Blessing bags shouldered,
They chafe at the bit, ears tuned
To catch astral whispers riding
The downdrafts of possibility.

Prophet  Seers Face East
Spirit nipps at their heels
Her sedulous bay echoes
Through labyrinthine chasms
Of exile driving them forth.

The call catches up.
Soulplace delivers seasoned exiles
Whose eyes are fixed ever east.

© rita h kowats 2016


photo credit a href=httpwww.flickr.comphotos75683070@N0070611346Near Spider Rock, Canyon de Chelly National Monument near Chinle, Navajo Nation, Arizonaa via a href=httpphotopin.comphotopina a href=httpscreativecommons.orglicensesby-sa2.0(license)a



Dawn for O'Donohue poem framed


Feast on this offering from John O’Donohue.  Happy New Year!


A Blessing For The New Year
For Josie

On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.

And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The grey window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colours,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
In the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.

“A New Year Blessing”
Benedictus (To Bless The Space Between Us)

You may enjoy Krista Tippett’s interview with John O’Donohue months before he died January 2008:



photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/42741557@N05/16871458598″>Dawn</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

Light from Light: A Lucid Dream Poem

Light from Light


The Washington Post accompanied by a cup of Joe these days can cast an aura of noxious negativity that permeates one’s day; spiritual work must balance this practice of staying informed.  I put my Post aside and settle in for meditation.  The sun escapes a thick bank of clouds momentarily blinding me.  I close my eyes and follow my breath.  It draws me into an extraordinary lucid dream.


The brilliant orange orb pulsates behind my eyelids, approaching and withdrawing, approaching and withdrawing, morphing into a red crab whose legs gyrate aimlessly in elusive air, while iridescent green claws pull it forward  by stabbing furtively into earth.  Exit stage right.

Enter: an eye moving slowly across the horizon of my inner eye.  It is shut tightly and encircled by a wreath of rich long lashes.  The eye moves in closer as if pulled by an invisible but powerful magnet.   Enlarging as it moves, it opens and closes in some predetermined rhythm until the horizon swallows it and spits it out as a bright white light.

From this light two inchoate inhabitants, a naked woman and man, tumble out and spin rapidly downward leaving a trail of brilliant sparks in their path.

A new aura of peace replaces the noxious aura of negativity.



“I will build a great wall- and nobody builds walls better than me-“

On and on the vitriol violates
Ensnaring the unsuspecting
In a net of noxious fumes.

I escape
To the womb of Light
Until Sight returns me
To my Self,
Light from Light.

© rita h kowats December 23, 2015



















Photo Credit: Rita H Kowats; aurora borealis from:

<a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/48503330@N08/8751278074″>Moon and Aurora</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;







goats 10 percent size

Life on the Ledge


One never knows where inspiration will pay a welcome visit.  This picture graced my newsfeed this morning (no credit given the photographer, apologies).  I wondered if human beings, like mountain goats, are spiritually coded to stand on the ledges of spirit.  Must we, if we expect to grow?

Life on the Ledge