Tadasan Center for Natural Healing is happy to announce:
Mid Winter Healing Gathering!
Sunday, February 3rd
10 :30 AM- 1 PM
Port Jefferson, NY
We will gather for guided meditation, relaxation, Kate's "healing sounds" on piano, and a pot luck brunch.
Looking forward to seeing new and old friends, as we witness winter being MORE Than half over!
Kindly RSVP by Friday, February 1, 2013.
To confirm your space, and for directions, and share what you'll be bringing to the brunch~.....(please: no dairy wheat or sugar!) Thank you in advance!
kindly email Kate Lamberg, at katyajo@gmail.com
Namaste': The highest in me bows to the highest in you!
Bright blessings on this snowy wintery day!
Where natural healing, the arts, including poetry, music,dance,visual arts coincide. Center for Natural Healing is a center providing therapeutic massage, meditation instruction, one=on=one yoga, music for healing workshops, and monthly retreat. Kathryn Lamberg, healing facilitator
Monday, January 28, 2013
seven haiku, written to solo oboe melody
release
pressure subsiding
cork pulled out of the bottle
champagne bubbles joy
warmth
sun hits the canvas
afternoon light makes colors
fresh casaba melon
why try
why try to exude
the light that makes up every fiber
like sea tries to be wet
be love
become river's source
no need to mirror love- be
love, as spilling violets
love keeps the beat
wind sweeps the flowers
love keeps the cadence alive-
heart heals over tea
bless & forgive
bless all that rises
earthly scented- hearty rye
crunchy soft- forgives
"one" in our willingness
breaking bread with all
who are willing to enter-
allowing silence
Kate Lamberg
12/19/12
pressure subsiding
cork pulled out of the bottle
champagne bubbles joy
warmth
sun hits the canvas
afternoon light makes colors
fresh casaba melon
why try
why try to exude
the light that makes up every fiber
like sea tries to be wet
be love
become river's source
no need to mirror love- be
love, as spilling violets
love keeps the beat
wind sweeps the flowers
love keeps the cadence alive-
heart heals over tea
bless & forgive
bless all that rises
earthly scented- hearty rye
crunchy soft- forgives
"one" in our willingness
breaking bread with all
who are willing to enter-
allowing silence
Kate Lamberg
12/19/12
even on cold dreary days
even on cold dreary days
our peripheries
can catch a glint of sun,
a speck of red in a bird's wing
tiny green leaves
poking through the snow
a flash of light from sun
hitting the cold glass window
traffic moves without a pause
to remember what in dream was running
through my head at dawn- a consoling vision:
somewhere in a meadow, a fawn sighs
Kate Lamberg
Sunday, January 27, 2013
giving life
"But giving life is not so easy. It means kindling the life force where it was not; even if it's only in the whiteness of a washed pocket-handkerchief.
~DH Lawrence, Complete Poems
we are deciding at every busy intersection
to put our blinders on, and let the crash
come from all sides- in a swirl of holy
chance- like lightning
bolts ricochet straight
to heart's tightly held apple core
or at the traffic light, when the red
seems to last forever, we can choose
to break open the six pack of our heart
a crackling foam, the remnants of tidal
waves returning to its origin,
a brush fire of compassion
cradling the baby who knows
the breaking open of the chest nuts,
the dancing delight of one's toes
happens in one heavenly moment,
lasting as long as eternity does show-
an orange lantern burning in the piling snow
Kate Lamberg
to remember who we are
if we are truly moving away
from the world of appearances- to grasp
the clear turquoise essence
which is our nature- known
in the watery environ
of the heart at peace
swimming, like lotus
within the huge blue ocean
and among the green pine groves
where home is found:
one hand scooping sand
another hand diving in
to meet that hand
a perfect stranger who knows
your pain as hers
your smile as hers
and is willing to drop
all judgements into the sinking sand
and walk with you, throughout
this pearlized land
for another round of honouring
all that we have come to be
all that allows the sun to shine
and moon to glow
all that stars and galaxies reveal
within the broad spectrum of colors
among each and every flowered song
this prayer-a choiceless benediction
however sad, mad, joyful or glad
your essence is known through this
now moment of gliding on sinking sand
holding the hand that is your own
and never ever letting go
of the pure presence- our birthright
we were birthed to transcend the doubts
that some may try to force feed us
but it is only watery rivulets
running back into the salty sea of delusion
for another million centuries
we know it is true
because walking in one's shoes
of integrity feels so good
light directing light: no clinging
to gurus for questions, answers,
or themes to drill into grey mines
we are doing just fine on our own
thank you creator spirit
and souldancer who comes to visit
and is welcome to stay as long
as grasses grow as high as grist mills
and birds soar, float with clouds
fading from view, yet always
experienced with one open heart
moved to dance, to sing, to feel
everything vibrating deep purple gold
it's in our own psychic sphere
always, it is here to hold
Kate Lamberg
1/23/13
Saturday, January 26, 2013
dancer's soul
"If I could tell you what it meant, there would be no point in dancing it. " Isadora Dunkan
sun does not care if you get her scheme
she can be trusted to rise above the purple mountains
joining her sweet friend, wind in a gale of laughter
painting our winter faces ruddy red- melting
our cold countenance- gently slipping her warm tongue
across the icy mid afternoon january sky- causing us
to stop, praise and sigh-- for we are gravitated
to what our essence is- it's not extravagance
that takes us by the hand and leads us
to the promise land--but simple gestures
"oh i know you--i know that pain..
won't you come walking sometime"
there are trees we could gaze at for hours
and in time there will be flowers
we need not say a word
our soul in sleep does float
up through the branches of beech
and like a bird knows the proper time
for plumping the nest, getting restorative
rest- no agenda, choreography, only this
another day as a green glass pitcher
sitting beneath the huge grey beech tree
receives the rain, allowing passer bys
a small drink of heaven--and when
the skies fill with snow--each branch
receives just enough for postcard elegance
& not too much to cause a break
in beauty--beginnings burst open
in the song you remember from
a misty morning, one spring
when the yearling
was born singing
Kate Lamberg
1/24/13
google image |
Friday, January 25, 2013
beginner's mind
beginner's mind shines
in full moon opalescence
open and ripe to learn
haiku and photo by Kate Lamberg
in full moon opalescence
open and ripe to learn
haiku and photo by Kate Lamberg
Saturday, January 19, 2013
i woke to the haunting cries of wind-
i woke to the haunting cries of wind-
sent clear across the dormant field
upon the hard earth of winter,
where in spring, the cherry blossoms
know they are welcome to burst forth
as gabriel plays his horn of fortune
songs of sweet sunburst days
lingering 'neath pink blossomed trees
and dainty angels keeping picnic
blankets from blowing
in sweet spring wind, let me be
able to endure the cold and dark awakening-
pitch black uncertain trembling
two a m coiled in thick blankets
awakening- the haunting wind
clear strong wind brushing
cold across the frozen pond-- trapping
leaves and green pine fronds
those who have passed through
this world-- like a sharp needle diving
into soft material- creating a needle pointed
pillowed scene-to last the rest
of all our winters' chilling-as long
as we find the presence of stilling
Kate Lamberg
1/18/12
Friday, January 18, 2013
shoes of woven grass
Poem's title is the title of a chapter in the wonderful book i am reading, "Footprints in the Snow", Sheng Yen's autobiography.
walking through snowy
fields, with only woven grass
shoes- feet, so close
to the earth--mirth is
not something to attain, or
go seeking-- just now,
no leaning on trees
nor holding the breeze in palms
as we are the wind
no traps, no freeing
no holding, no letting go
spiraling dance of snow
no preparations
no need to clean up one's act
dive in to life's river
dreams never ate you
words shared to elevate-not
denigrate, balance
a seemingly troubled world
the absurdity is our believing
we could change anything
why would we wish to
if we knew we had
all the treasures
tucked safely
within
our sovererign souls
Kate Lamberg
1/16/13
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
awakening though falling
the fall is either you-- being welcomed
on hard ground, or you-- being shut down
by the cold cruel system--
so you blow the joint
and fill a back pack with the bare bones essentials
and you walk out the back door and do not look back
even though you are curious to do that; you walk with
long lunging strides through the cold winter's air, without
a care in the world--because worries are in the past
and you are in the present, presently placing
one foot in front of the other-- a sacred dance
that got lost in the the family tree, sometime
around napolean--and like a kite,
got stuck in the hollow
of the beech tree
for two hundred years
this walk that you have
just embarked upon
is now your way of saying
clearly, without debate
this is your path-
kindly step out of the way
soul's worship is a solo affair
and truth walks with self-respect
nary straying from the core
no more practicing for perfection
as the mist is finally settling in
for the evening- dust slowly
drifting to opposite sides
of the living room
its green shining
against the opposite wall
leaves a warm comforting
feeling, like saying what
you really mean--without fear
of your distaining- no apologies
in le grand amour scheme, la plaza
of de mayo, or ponce de leon --leave it
to betsy, barbie, and
manhattan clam chowder
Kate Lamberg
1/13/13
on hard ground, or you-- being shut down
by the cold cruel system--
so you blow the joint
and fill a back pack with the bare bones essentials
and you walk out the back door and do not look back
even though you are curious to do that; you walk with
long lunging strides through the cold winter's air, without
a care in the world--because worries are in the past
and you are in the present, presently placing
one foot in front of the other-- a sacred dance
that got lost in the the family tree, sometime
around napolean--and like a kite,
got stuck in the hollow
of the beech tree
for two hundred years
this walk that you have
just embarked upon
is now your way of saying
clearly, without debate
this is your path-
kindly step out of the way
soul's worship is a solo affair
and truth walks with self-respect
nary straying from the core
no more practicing for perfection
as the mist is finally settling in
for the evening- dust slowly
drifting to opposite sides
of the living room
its green shining
against the opposite wall
leaves a warm comforting
feeling, like saying what
you really mean--without fear
of your distaining- no apologies
in le grand amour scheme, la plaza
of de mayo, or ponce de leon --leave it
to betsy, barbie, and
manhattan clam chowder
Kate Lamberg
1/13/13
the moth will continue
We're fascinated by the words - but where we meet is in the silence behind them.
~ Ram Dass
the moth will continue
to be curious, flutter up
to the nearest light bulb
seeking moth-er, bathing
in the warmth of the light
seeking what is outside
of her grey noisy wings
as we do our best
to communicate, with words
living thousands of miles
away from each other-
sometimes pausing
in between our words
to breathe, to sneeze
to hear, to realize
the spaces
in between our words
hold connection's power--
as silence always
houses the strength
of the soul
Kate Lamberg
1/13/12
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Thank you Marsh Hawk Review!
I
am so honoured and happy to have a few haiku in the current issue of
Marsh Hawk Review. Many thanks to one of the editors~ Tom Fink.
Link: http://www.marshhawkpress.org/Review%20Frame.html .
Link: http://www.marshhawkpress.org/Review%20Frame.html .
The Marsh Hawk Review
www.marshhawkpress.org
Vincent
Katz Jane AugustineChristopher SchmidtNatsuko HirataDaniel MorrisM.D.
Johnson Paul Pines Kate Lamberg Susan TerrisMark
YoungEileen R. TabiosJack LynchCarole StoneLisa KremensMary MackeyAlan
Ramon ClintonBasil KingStafford Greg
Paramahansa Yogananda Quote~"Live quietly..."
Live quietly in the moment and see the beauty of all before you. The future will take care of itself.
~Paramahansa Yogananda
~Paramahansa Yogananda
Monday, January 14, 2013
she flips ahead...to spring
"when you plant the seed of love, it is you that blossoms"
~Ma Jaya Sati Bhagavati
looking through spring seed catalogues
she flips ahead, to see the trees and the blossoms
her impatience wants the flowers; she does not want
to do the work of the planting
taking each seed
as thoughts unexplored
she rolls the hard tiny babes
in between her forefinger and thumb
all thoughts stop on a dime
she enters dream time
seeds begin to grow tulips
out of her fingertips
huge red hisbiscus grows
flavorful out of her mouth- now,
pushing out of her ears, pink cosmos
love's unattachment buries infertile fears
out of the center of her chest--one tea rose
can you imagine--just suppose
daisies joined hands with portulaka
then--zinnias might rest with zuchinni blossom
Kate Lamberg
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
dreaming of meadow sweet
dreaming in orange
little nerve, guts, or sinew
just showing up underneath
the branches of meadow sweet
berries changing from brilliant vermilion
to gold finch yellow in january's bright
late morning sun- back aligned with red
brick building i call home-warming both
sides of my erector spinae, as forehead
heart, solar plexus and tummy swell
with increasing sun- feet planted
in the dormant garden- pictures
of floating purple and blue flowers
and massive patches of warm green
grasses underfoot allow me
to endure the bitter cold;
stories never ever told
speak to me on worn wooden
shudders- slats, painted once red,
then gold, then green- impossible to have seen
them in gold, when i've spent my life
as a mercurial silver dancer
panning for flat skipping stones,
down by the river side
where minnows do not hide
& black willows stand like horses,
patiently waiting for the warmer weather
to go dancing on the open deserted fields
to beat the drums, as hoofs push through
tallest grasses, abandoned apple orchards
each step, allowing the soaring higher
i think i even saw the horse's head
blend into a passing cloud
naying out loud
praise wide open spaces
and all those who enjoy the graces
within the spinning--
the tough hoofs and gentle hearts;
mountains move in our absence,
amidst our inattention to details
Friday, January 4, 2013
New Moon Healing Retreat
Tadasan, Center for Natural Healing is happy to announce our monthly retreat~ |
~New Moon Healing Retreat~*~ On Sunday, January 13th, from 10- 12:30 PM Gentle yoga, guided meditation, deep relaxation. "Healing Sounds"~live piano music-composed and performed by Kate. Also, a sampling of Kate's "light touch" healing method. Balance/Recharge/ Suggested donation: $ 50. For more info/directions/to register: katyajo@gmail.com 631- 334-2663~ Kindly Respond by 1/9/13 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Kate Lamberg, BA, New York State Licensed Massage Therapist (since 1987), Yoga and Meditation Instructor and Workshop facilitator for over 20 years. Musician, poet, dancer dreamer for as long as she can remember. Namaste'~ may all be well in your world~(~ |
Thursday, January 3, 2013
beginner's mind
brass bell sounds
it's strong sweet ring
every thing seems to be
awakening
river runs
without taking inventory
gets to ocean at just
the correct time
no hurry
no slow
just by being
we get there
just so
Kate Lamberg
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
whole uni-verse
The whole universe is breathing as our breath; we limit the process by our assumption that we are doing the breathing.
- Pir Vilayat Inayat Khan
we are given breath
delivered from passing clouds
bursting through wide sky
groping for poems
unpeeled pineapples
ripening in warmth
clamoring for ivories
in the darkness
where breath is born
Kate Lamberg
12/28/12
balanced beauty
Every beauty which is seen here below by persons of perception resembles more than anything else that celestial source from which we all come.
~ Michelangelo
holding tight to the weather
where old worn boats are still
able to cross the corpus callosum
a driving rain, a gentle snow
red cheeks burn against the freezing
wooden boats sing in cloistered song
swinging from left to right
focused boats move between
dense earth and placid sky
claritas softly play
through cardinals wing
flight everlasting
square dances take up
space & residency up front and center
pay no rent, get very far
without trying to edify
(a deeper wish to mystify)
clearly stating what is
words tumble like wildflowers
random grace spills color
cursties before and after sleep
no making sense when probabilities
write no holiday cards- they are straight from the hip
an arrow flying for vulnerable moving targets
Kate Lamberg