A Good Fire

BlogImage - SatoriCircleDotCom - May 11 2019

“Thoreau’s Cooking Stove”  |  Anthony Satori

“I sometimes left a good fire when I went to take a walk in a winter afternoon; and when I returned, three or four hours afterward, it would be still alive and glowing.  My house was not empty though I was gone.  It was as if I had left a cheerful housekeeper behind.  It was I and Fire that lived there.”

“The next winter I used a small cooking-stove for economy…  but it did not keep fire so well as the open fireplace.  Cooking was then, for the most part, no longer a poetic, but merely a chemic process.  It will soon be forgotten, in these days of stoves, that we used to roast potatoes in the ashes.  The stove not only took up room and scented the house, but it concealed the fire, and I felt as if I had lost a companion.  You can always see a face in the fire.  The laborer, looking into it at evening, purifies his thoughts…  But I could no longer sit and look into the fire.”

— Henry David Thoreau

Walden: Life in the Woods

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“Walden House”  |  Anthony Satori

“My dwelling was small, and I could hardly entertain an echo in it; but it seemed larger for being a single apartment and remote from neighbors.”

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“Walden House II (Interior)”  |  Anthony Satori

“All the attractions of a house were concentrated in one room; it was kitchen, chamber, parlor, and keeping-room; and whatever satisfaction [one may] derive from living in a house, I enjoyed it all.”

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“Walden House III”  |  Anthony Satori

“The snow had already covered the ground… and surrounded me suddenly with the scenery of winter.  I withdrew yet farther into my shell, and endeavored to keep a bright fire both within my house and within my breast.”

— Henry David Thoreau  (Walden: Life in the Woods, 1854)

Long, Warm and Beautiful

BlogImage - SatoriCircleDotCom - July 1 2017

“Warm Horizon”  |  Anthony Satori

“Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.  And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.”

— Khalil Gibran

Do you see the world in light and dark, or in a myriad of colors and shades?  When you see a glow on the horizon, does your heart smile, knowing that the Sun is just behind the mountain?  Does it give you comfort to realize that there is a life-giving force just outside of view, whose energy and heat will return again and again to nourish and warm our world?

Here is the essence: the Sun will return in the morning whether we believe in it or not.  The only real consequence of choosing whether or not you believe is how long, lonely and cold your night will be.  If you choose not to have faith, when the Sun returns in the morning you will feel relieved, and possibly remorseful for the unnecessary sadness you endured.  If you choose to have faith, however, when the Sun returns in the morning you will greet it with joy and with a knowing smile, because you will have continued to feel its light and its warmth all through the night, in your heart, in your memory, and in your anticipation of its return.

Much in the same way, the Universe is a compassionate and creative consciousness, whether we believe in it or not.  It touches our Spirit again and again, warming us, nourishing us, and guiding us, continuously.  The only difference between believing in its benevolent influence or not is how long, lonely and cold our night will be.

So have faith, my friends.  The Sun is just behind the mountain.  Let’s make the night long and warm and beautiful.


Feel The Rain On Your Skin

BlogImage - SatoriCircleDotCom - May 20 2017

“The Rain”  |  Anthony Satori

“Feel the rain on your skin / No one else can feel it for you / Only you can let it in / No one else, no one else / Can speak the words on your lips / Drench yourself in words unspoken / Live your life with arms wide open / Today is where your book begins / The rest is still unwritten.”

— Natasha Bedingfield

The Glory of Expression

BlogImage - SatoriCircleDotCom - April 29 2017

“The Trumpet Man”  |  Anthony Satori

“The art of art, the glory of expression, and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.”

— Walt Whitman

A man walked out onto the beach, unpacked his things, and began to play his trumpet.  The sweet, muted tones of his soulful melodies sang out for anyone who would listen.  The place he sat was the same concrete bench that had been there before.  Around him was the same sand, the same lamp post, the same air.  But now, in this space where there had been no music, there was now music.  Now, all the rollerbladers and the volleyball players, the sunbathers and the beachgoers, they all had a soundtrack playing around them.  This is the art of art.  This is the glory of expression.  This is simplicity.