Sunday, December 30, 2012
Welcome Loneliness
Kristen Magis in Vietnam 2012: Welcome Loneliness: Sometimes, my stomach rolls over and I feel a hole inside my soul that has no bottom. It is a profound sense of lonliness that se...
Friday, December 28, 2012
Fools or Heroes
There are a few poems from my other blog that really fit the essence of this blog, so I will re-post them here as a continuation of spirit walking...
Kristen Magis in Vietnam 2012: Fools or Heroes: The question arose, unbidden, in the dark-of-night sojourns of my sleepy mind. Fools and heroes... Are they one and the same? Or, ar...
Kristen Magis in Vietnam 2012: Fools or Heroes: The question arose, unbidden, in the dark-of-night sojourns of my sleepy mind. Fools and heroes... Are they one and the same? Or, ar...
You ARE: For Annali
In the quietest of moments,
did you ever feel
deep within your self,
a greatness?
Did you ever sense
that there was some thing
IN you
that defied all
'current realities',
and negative self talk,
and admonitions of others,
and past/present experiences
of imperfection?
Have you felt
the surge of pure, raw joy?
the deep knowledge that
you are so much more than ANY thing
you could ever start to imagine?
Do you know that you ARE?
you CAN?
you WILL?
If you close your eyes and
open your heart,
you can see
the light that is in you,
you can feel
the greatness that is you,
you can sense
the potential that is yours to fill.
The seed of God is in you.
Allow it to grow,
Nurture and love it,
Share it with all.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Christmas, 2012
So, I sit, wondering what I shall say this
Christmas of 2012.
This season has always been difficult for me.
The struggle to find and keep
Spirit alive during this season
has always daunted me.
It is a season that, for me, highlights
both pure hope and,
in stark contrast,
how lost we have become.
So, I want to share a few of the thoughts
that have filled my heart and mind over
the years.
The next poems reflect the struggles,
tell the story of trying to find
hope in what sometimes seems to be
such a shamble of misguided
and frenzied searching for meaning
during this most sacred season
of the year...
Christmas of 2012.
This season has always been difficult for me.
The struggle to find and keep
Spirit alive during this season
has always daunted me.
It is a season that, for me, highlights
both pure hope and,
in stark contrast,
how lost we have become.
So, I want to share a few of the thoughts
that have filled my heart and mind over
the years.
The next poems reflect the struggles,
tell the story of trying to find
hope in what sometimes seems to be
such a shamble of misguided
and frenzied searching for meaning
during this most sacred season
of the year...
Christmas, 2011
Christmas in This Year, 2011
Sitting here at my desk, peering out at the majestic pines, I am reminded of a night so many years past
when sitting at another desk, I peered out into the Montana snow
and witnessed as a story -- my first –
materialized on the white page at my fingertips.
Many blank pages have been filled since that tender age of 15.
Some smeared by tears from loss and deep remorse;
some wrinkled and torn by the anger rippling through my veins;
many rejoicing in hope – founded, renewed, encouraged;
some withered and pale as the words lightly touched and almost disappeared,
reflecting the weary soul imparting them;
many filled with questions, some answered, some still mysteries;
many dancing with love and glee and humor.
All reflecting a journey of soul through this incarnation.
Not so different than any other sharing this path called life.
Unique in its iteration, yet shared in its connection to the all.
With three grown children, a son ‘to be’,
a new daughter, not formally, but really,
and a grandchild, already almost 3 years old!
sharing a home with friends;
living in the space of transition;
a space between ‘then’ and ‘next’.
The space, next, to which I journey
is inspired by the lives and faith of
two blessed beings, my mother and father,
by a profound gratitude for all that
I have been blessed with in this life,
and by an equally profound desire
to give back to life.
I thought I knew what ‘next’ was,
but ever reminded that I know far less than I think,
I step forward in humility and openness
to what may come,
praying that there, indeed, is something I can offer
to bring beauty and love to this world.
only that I set foot upon this path
and that each day, I take another step,
and another.
So, you see,
our paths are not so different.
We all are challenged to step forward
again
each day
mostly in faith,
for ours is not to know the future
but to act according to the truth
embedded in our souls this day.
It matters not the particular brand of faith,
really.
It all, in the end, comes down to
love lived;
grace and compassion offered
to one’s self and others;
discovery and revelation in
the mystery and beauty all round us;
and gratitude for life -- all of it.
This is what flows from spirit through my fingers
when I consider this Christmas,
36 years after that first story emerged.
I do love you all.
I wish for you a blessed new year
as you tread upon your life path.
I pray you will feel the profound awe
inspired by the earth, all its creatures,
the universe in which it spins,
and this mysterious, confounding, wonderful
gift called life.
I hope that you will be given
the gifts of compassion, grace and love,
and that you will find opportunity
to share those gifts with another.
All my love,
Kristen
Christmas..., 2011
Meaning....of Christmas?
…………..
Away in the grasslands,
"Are you ready for Christmas?"
"No, I haven’t even started shopping yet."
"No, I haven’t even started shopping yet."
…………..
The Original
Away in the manager,
Away in the manager,
No crib for his bed,
The little lord Jesus lay down his sweet head
The stars in the sky looked down where he lay
The little lord Jesus asleep on the hay.
After My Trip to Zimbabwe
Away in the grasslands,
No house and no beds.
The little black children
lay down their sweet heads
The stars in the sky looked down where they lay.
The children of Jesus are hungry this day.
Christmas, 2003
Christmas in Wee Valley
They lived in the valley over yonder,
The Wee Ones, that is.
Theirs was clear –
work, spend, work, spend –
the mantra repeated so often,
in so many ways,
in so many places,
that those wee ones didn’t hear it anymore.
Nor did they know the mantra was constantly chanted
in the background of their lives.
White noise it was;
add it to the chirping of the red,
bold diminishing birds,
the engines pushing tons of steal
and wee ones to and fro,
the time clock that mastered their time and lives.
‘What noise?’ you
say. ‘I hear nothing
cept
the chirping,
and
a car driving by,
and the ding when I
punch in at work…’
‘I got a new thingamajig today!
Don’t you just love it?!’
‘Why…What exactly is a
thingamagig?’
‘Well, I don’t rightly
know, but I do know one thing!’
‘What’s that Wee One?’
‘It was on sale!!!’
‘Oh my! A sale!!
Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!
I really need one of those thingamajigs!
I wonder if they have them in red or purple, or maybe teal?!’
On their way home from a work-a-day,
cash in hand, thingamajigs on their minds,
‘When I go home, I
feel so discombobulated – out of sorts really!
I
miss the speed with which we make those bopzats!
And
the noise of the bopzatpoota machines – oh how they roar!
We made 39,000 bopzats
today!’
‘Wee One, excuse me…’
‘Yes?’
‘What’s a bopzat?’
‘Don’t you know?! It’s the latest rage! Everyone’s buying them!’
‘Really? What for?
Do they sing?’
‘Oh no, they do not
sing.’
‘Well, do they ding?’
‘No, they do not ding.’
‘Hmmm, do they roll?’
‘No, they definitely do
not roll.’
‘Walk?’
‘No, no walking.’
‘Make dinner, warm you
up at night?’
‘No, I’m sorry. Bopzats don’t make dinner, nor are they
food. And they don’t warm you up at
night. You can get a Luippspin to do
that. They come in 30 colors now! They come out of the department up the
hallway.’
‘But, what then, does a Bopzat do?’
‘I don’t know,
really. But, they are the rage! We had to increase production 30 fold this
week to handle the demand! You should have seen
the Wee Ones lined up, some got there two days before the production line was
scheduled to finish!’
On their way home from a work-a-day,
cash in hand, thingamajigs and bopzats on their minds.
Now, Christmas comes three times a year in Wee Valley.
Better that way.
More opportunities for the Wee Ones
to prove they weren’t like
that horrible, stingy scrooge fellow.
Oh, they knew him well.
His movie had been reproduced
yearly by the big people on the other side of the valley,
by big stuffed animals and a green frog, and now by the wee
ones’ very own preschool.
No, they weren’t like him, or that green Grinch fellow
either!
That mean fellow didn’t want to
give gifts!!!!
He knew not the meaning of
Christmas!!!
Poor fellow.
Such a small heart…
They understood fully that the measure of their caring for
another
could only be weighed in size and
number
of presents!
So, yes, they requested more
Christmases.
And, to prove their goodness,
they asked for more hours at the
noisy work-a-day plant
making thingamajigs and bopzats
and whatever else the big people on
the other side of the valley
dreamed up,
so they could earn more money
to spend on more gifts.
Because we all know that Christmas isn’t Christmas
without spending.
We all know that, right???Christmas, 1997
November 4, 1997
I just saw two trucks drive by, loaded with pine trees. Oregon is the largest supplier of Christmas
trees in America. It also does huge
business with Japan. Every year, tens of
thousands of trees are sacrificed so that we may dress them in garland and
lights for one day, throw millions of dollars of unneeded presents under them
and wrap those excess presents with wrapping paper - which will be thrown away
during the present opening frenzy.
Each year, this ‘tradition’ sickens me at a deeper and
deeper level. We no longer kill trees,
but rather plant a tree at Christmas. We
don’t buy cards to send to people who then throw them away - we recycle paper
we already have used. And this year, we
will not use wrapping paper. We will use
newspapers.
My soul wants to cry at this decadence. My heart can not find the meaning - the
spirit - any longer - of Christmas.
Christmas Lust
The slaughter has begun.
How will they keep the trees
alive until Christmas?
Commercialism has won.
How many will be sacrificed for
our lust?
The rampant spending, consumerism, uncontrollable desires
are sickening my heart.
The buying and destroying, the throwing away - all sires
a society bereft of spirit,
denuded of meaning.
A society which forfeited its soul
for one more thing,
one bigger thing,
one best thing.
Things
These are our masters - things
without soul or breath.
What have we come to?
Where shall we go from here?
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
December 21, 2012 Every Day, Every Moment
It occurs to me that December 21st, 2012
awaits at our doorstep.
And where stand we
on this momentous occassion?
When we open the door
and greet this new age,
What garmets will we don?
How shall we introduce our selves?
What words of greeting shall
pass from our lips?
For really,
it matters not
whether it is the dawn of a new age
or the death of a civilization
or....any of the other realities
prophesied.
It matters, finally,
what we,
each of us,
do
in response to
whatever is presented
to us.
It matters who we aspire to be.
It matters what values will guide us.
It matters whether we decide to live
outside of fear.
And, in a very real sense,
it matters not on which day
we shall make these decisions,
no more so on December 22, 2012
than on any other day of our lives.
For each breath that we take,
each decision that we make,
every moment of every day,
we are
co-creating.
If the world ends,
or if we ascend,
or if the poles shift,
or if we just go to work
on December 22, 2012,
we are still challenged to answer the question
of who we will be
and what we will
offer to life,
in that moment,
and the next,
and every moment thereafter.
awaits at our doorstep.
And where stand we
on this momentous occassion?
When we open the door
and greet this new age,
What garmets will we don?
How shall we introduce our selves?
What words of greeting shall
pass from our lips?
For really,
it matters not
whether it is the dawn of a new age
or the death of a civilization
or....any of the other realities
prophesied.
It matters, finally,
what we,
each of us,
do
in response to
whatever is presented
to us.
It matters who we aspire to be.
It matters what values will guide us.
It matters whether we decide to live
outside of fear.
And, in a very real sense,
it matters not on which day
we shall make these decisions,
no more so on December 22, 2012
than on any other day of our lives.
For each breath that we take,
each decision that we make,
every moment of every day,
we are
co-creating.
If the world ends,
or if we ascend,
or if the poles shift,
or if we just go to work
on December 22, 2012,
we are still challenged to answer the question
of who we will be
and what we will
offer to life,
in that moment,
and the next,
and every moment thereafter.
Shed the Veil from Our Eyes
Ave Maria
Please, please, please
gift us with peace
for just one moment
to experience,
all of us,
one shared moment
of exquisite peace
suspended above our
longings and struggles
and pain
just one moment
so we can know,
really know,
there is more
there is so much more
and, so that we can see
finally,
that infinity,
the compassion
the peace that passes understanding
the love
the light
is in us
of us
is us
show us our grace
our understanding
our ability to love
completely, without restriction
please, please, please
help us to remember
Please, please, please
gift us with peace
for just one moment
to experience,
all of us,
one shared moment
of exquisite peace
suspended above our
longings and struggles
and pain
just one moment
so we can know,
really know,
there is more
there is so much more
and, so that we can see
finally,
that infinity,
the compassion
the peace that passes understanding
the love
the light
is in us
of us
is us
show us our grace
our understanding
our ability to love
completely, without restriction
please, please, please
help us to remember
Monday, December 17, 2012
Manifest ME Through You
Don't forget why you are here.
Yes, this moment is real,
but you are a multidimensional being.
The I that is You lives in the space in-between
even as it animates the flesh.
You answered a call in your re-incarnation.
Remember, remember...
What was it to which you said, 'yes'?
Why are you here?
Step, now, into your Self.
Feel the mighty power of the ALL
coursing through your veins.
Hear the call of Spirit
in the far reaches of your mind.
Feel the Spirit within dancing, reaching, desiring
to manifest now, in and through you.
Don't forget
who you are
Hear me
Hear me
I AM
You ARE
Manifest ME through you
Yes, this moment is real,
but you are a multidimensional being.
The I that is You lives in the space in-between
even as it animates the flesh.
You answered a call in your re-incarnation.
Remember, remember...
What was it to which you said, 'yes'?
Why are you here?
Step, now, into your Self.
Feel the mighty power of the ALL
coursing through your veins.
Hear the call of Spirit
in the far reaches of your mind.
Feel the Spirit within dancing, reaching, desiring
to manifest now, in and through you.
Don't forget
who you are
Hear me
Hear me
I AM
You ARE
Manifest ME through you
I Know You - Namaste
You know that sense you get when you meet
some one
whom you already know?
For me, there is the moment of recognition...
'Hey wait?! I know you?!'
Then, the realization...
You have not yet met in this life.
Then, the awe
at the sacredness of the moment,
and a profound gratefulness
for the gift being offered.
This has happened several times
in my life,
and each experience is
so incredibly exquisite!
It happened again recently.
I find my self in the
early stages ... realizing
that I already know this soul,
and that we are really just
meeting again in this life.
If we choose to follow this invitation,
we will undoubtedly traverse a path
that offers to enrich us both in ways
that we can't even start to imagine.
It is amazing, not a little frightening,
and intriguing beyond measure
to ponder just what this connection
might, could, may bode...
But for now, in this opening moment,
I shall endeavor
to sit quietly to savor this
discovery...
stay with it and allow it
to course through my veins,
watch with a gentle compassion
the range of emotions and thought
that emerge within my self
as the realization settles in
that I have just met a soul mate.
And, oh yes,
I will remember to say,
'thank you. thank you. thank you...
and namaste.'
some one
whom you already know?
For me, there is the moment of recognition...
'Hey wait?! I know you?!'
Then, the realization...
You have not yet met in this life.
Then, the awe
at the sacredness of the moment,
and a profound gratefulness
for the gift being offered.
This has happened several times
in my life,
and each experience is
so incredibly exquisite!
It happened again recently.
I find my self in the
early stages ... realizing
that I already know this soul,
and that we are really just
meeting again in this life.
If we choose to follow this invitation,
we will undoubtedly traverse a path
that offers to enrich us both in ways
that we can't even start to imagine.
It is amazing, not a little frightening,
and intriguing beyond measure
to ponder just what this connection
might, could, may bode...
But for now, in this opening moment,
I shall endeavor
to sit quietly to savor this
discovery...
stay with it and allow it
to course through my veins,
watch with a gentle compassion
the range of emotions and thought
that emerge within my self
as the realization settles in
that I have just met a soul mate.
And, oh yes,
I will remember to say,
'thank you. thank you. thank you...
and namaste.'
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Looking Out From Within
I am struck by the 'oddness' of this relationship.
I know you are out there.
I can see the country from which you read these poems.
I can see how many of you visit this blog on any given day.
I can see which poems seem to reach the furthest into your souls.
But, I don't know who you are.
The comunication is one-way.
I understood that when I agreed to this relationship.
It was my choice, and is my choice
each day that I continue on this path.
Sometimes, though, it does feel strange.
'What', I wonder, 'do you feel as you read these words?'
'How do they affect your heart and soul?'
'What, in your life, resonates with these words?'
'What wisdom do you have, which if gifted to me,
would contribute to my own learning,
expand my own understanding,
enrich my own journey?'
These questions occassionally emerge,
and as yet, have found no answer.
I do so much appreciate your visits.
There is something incredibly powerful
in seeing that people from all corners of the world
seek out the words that flow from my fingers.
It is awesome, and not a little humbling,
and
awesome.
So anyway,
namaste to you this day,
whoever you are,
whatever your path,
wherever your journey leads you.
Namaste, my friends.
I know you are out there.
I can see the country from which you read these poems.
I can see how many of you visit this blog on any given day.
I can see which poems seem to reach the furthest into your souls.
But, I don't know who you are.
The comunication is one-way.
I understood that when I agreed to this relationship.
It was my choice, and is my choice
each day that I continue on this path.
Sometimes, though, it does feel strange.
'What', I wonder, 'do you feel as you read these words?'
'How do they affect your heart and soul?'
'What, in your life, resonates with these words?'
'What wisdom do you have, which if gifted to me,
would contribute to my own learning,
expand my own understanding,
enrich my own journey?'
These questions occassionally emerge,
and as yet, have found no answer.
I do so much appreciate your visits.
There is something incredibly powerful
in seeing that people from all corners of the world
seek out the words that flow from my fingers.
It is awesome, and not a little humbling,
and
awesome.
So anyway,
namaste to you this day,
whoever you are,
whatever your path,
wherever your journey leads you.
Namaste, my friends.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Divinity Incarnate
I was talking to her.
Beside her were several small clay plates and containers,
beautifully crafted and still wet with the newness of their creation.
They were small and carried no apparent purpose.
Yet, their striking beauty
and silent invitation
caused me to falter in my conversation.
Life is like that for me.
A circumstance arises,
often outside the situation I have intenitionally crafted,
yet so real and fresh
and asking for my attention.
The unfinished nature of the circumstance
invites me to partake in the creation.
The quiet, waiting spirit
tells me this is the invitation
and that if and how I respond
is my choice.
In fact,
my choosing is part
of the creative process.
The choice will not be pulled from me quickly
if at first, I say 'no'.
Depending on its import,
it will be presented to me over and again
in different ways
from different perspectives
including different souls
with the hope that
finally
I will choose to pick up the unfinished clay,
lay my hand to the creation,
and allow my spirit to speak through
my direct involvement with life.
A quiet invitation,
a gentle push,
a patient persistence.
The invitation - always
to live
to participate
to step out of
waking sleep
nonmovement
blind, repetitious existence.
Deepak Chopra
speaks of our bodies,
and I would add - our lives,
as vessels for the flow
of Divine energy.
We are the Divine,
incarnate into this physical reality.
We are asked to take up the partially crafted clay
and allow the Divine to create through and with us.
We are Creators.
We are one with the Divine.
What shall we craft on this day?
Beside her were several small clay plates and containers,
beautifully crafted and still wet with the newness of their creation.
They were small and carried no apparent purpose.
Yet, their striking beauty
and silent invitation
caused me to falter in my conversation.
Life is like that for me.
A circumstance arises,
often outside the situation I have intenitionally crafted,
yet so real and fresh
and asking for my attention.
The unfinished nature of the circumstance
invites me to partake in the creation.
The quiet, waiting spirit
tells me this is the invitation
and that if and how I respond
is my choice.
In fact,
my choosing is part
of the creative process.
The choice will not be pulled from me quickly
if at first, I say 'no'.
Depending on its import,
it will be presented to me over and again
in different ways
from different perspectives
including different souls
with the hope that
finally
I will choose to pick up the unfinished clay,
lay my hand to the creation,
and allow my spirit to speak through
my direct involvement with life.
A quiet invitation,
a gentle push,
a patient persistence.
The invitation - always
to live
to participate
to step out of
waking sleep
nonmovement
blind, repetitious existence.
Deepak Chopra
speaks of our bodies,
and I would add - our lives,
as vessels for the flow
of Divine energy.
We are the Divine,
incarnate into this physical reality.
We are asked to take up the partially crafted clay
and allow the Divine to create through and with us.
We are Creators.
We are one with the Divine.
What shall we craft on this day?
Grant Me Courage for the Journey, Please
I am waiting God,
for the next invitation.
I am here to serve, to offer whatever I have
to life
in gratitude for all I have been given.
I am watching, striving to remain open,
to not let fear blind me or push me into rash decisions.
It is hard though.
'Reality' isn't always kind
or understanding with one who
is seeking to give of herself
to the Divine flow of life.
'Reality' demands things...
sustenace for the body,
shelter, warmth from the cold,
care in one's age.
These demands create in me a mix
of fear; a 'requirement' to be responsible;
a wish to not make myself a burden to others;
a concern that walking this path
will leave me vulnerable
to the vagaries of this life.
I watched my parents live in faith,
following your calling,
months passing with no income
and suddenly an influx enough to keep them
safe and warm
and to provide for their children.
Such a solid, unwavering faith they had,
a faith that I find difficult to maintain,
especially when I don't see
how I can continue this path and not fall
into destitute poverty.
Do I keep my eyes forward,
stepping once again into the unknown,
living in total faith
that the path will be revealed
and my safety secured?
Or do I 'be responsible'
and take action to facilitate
my own safety...
food on the table,
shelter for my aging body,
retirement for the elder that will
soon be me?
Each time I reach this impasse in my soul,
I choose to let go and follow.
But each time I arrive again at this place,
I am a little older
and a little more concerned.
This now is my prayer,
to be given discernment and courage
as I once again
stand on the precipice of the unknown,
feel the wind against my face
but not yet under my feet,
sense my calling is only just begun
yet feel so very vulnerable.
for the next invitation.
I am here to serve, to offer whatever I have
to life
in gratitude for all I have been given.
I am watching, striving to remain open,
to not let fear blind me or push me into rash decisions.
It is hard though.
'Reality' isn't always kind
or understanding with one who
is seeking to give of herself
to the Divine flow of life.
'Reality' demands things...
sustenace for the body,
shelter, warmth from the cold,
care in one's age.
These demands create in me a mix
of fear; a 'requirement' to be responsible;
a wish to not make myself a burden to others;
a concern that walking this path
will leave me vulnerable
to the vagaries of this life.
I watched my parents live in faith,
following your calling,
months passing with no income
and suddenly an influx enough to keep them
safe and warm
and to provide for their children.
Such a solid, unwavering faith they had,
a faith that I find difficult to maintain,
especially when I don't see
how I can continue this path and not fall
into destitute poverty.
Do I keep my eyes forward,
stepping once again into the unknown,
living in total faith
that the path will be revealed
and my safety secured?
Or do I 'be responsible'
and take action to facilitate
my own safety...
food on the table,
shelter for my aging body,
retirement for the elder that will
soon be me?
Each time I reach this impasse in my soul,
I choose to let go and follow.
But each time I arrive again at this place,
I am a little older
and a little more concerned.
This now is my prayer,
to be given discernment and courage
as I once again
stand on the precipice of the unknown,
feel the wind against my face
but not yet under my feet,
sense my calling is only just begun
yet feel so very vulnerable.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Dissolution, Re-Birth
I don't know the source of your anger
or the enmity you express toward me.
I don't know why the epicenter of your bitterness
seems to be my heart.
It's been so very long since I have touched your heart.
It feels already like several lifetimes have passed
since I felt your loving gaze.
For all those years,
I couldn't understand how what I believed to be
such a strong bond could be broken.
Yet, it was.
It broke my heart.
And even after all these years
of conscious healing and endeavors
to move forward,
the mere thought of seeing you again
set me squarely back on my heels.
As the day drew nearer,
I felt as a volcano,
long silent, now waking,
stirring, the long simmer
breaking into a broil, a frenzy
of anger, hurt, disbelief...
So that when, at last, I set eyes
upon your soul,
the volcano erupted.
There are behaviors you express toward me
that are not okay,
that have never been,
and will never be,
okay.
It feels that for the first time,
I said 'No. You will not act
toward me in that way.
Never again.'
And, the fact is,
you can't.
I will not allow it.
I am not your anger or your hate.
Sitting now with this experience,
I see some things.
First, I recognize a new strength
and centeredness in my self.
I feel, in a way I have never before experienced,
a love of self, a sense that my worth is defined
not by your fears or prejudice or anger or even
your love.
Second, I recognize that something broke in this encounter.
I felt it in that moment.
But, it was not what I thought it to be.
What I now understand is
that which broke
is the umbilical cord that attached my worth
to your judgment, the cord that tied us together
forever in an unhealthy, unmovable, repeating
cycle of hurt and misunderstanding.
And this explains the sense of lightness,
the feeling of freedom, of release, of newness.
It wasn't glee at having 'won an argument' or
'standing up to the bully' or anything so superficial.
It was the breaking of an unhealthy and rotting
cord of attachment between we two.
And in breaking that cord,
a whole new world of possibilities opened up
for us.
We can craft something anew.
We can find again the love that was once
so alive and fresh and lifegiving.
We may not take that path.
We may choose instead to be done
in this life.
And, I find I am okay with that too.
For I know that we are forever connected
one to the other,
and that we will have other opportunities
in other lives to explore anew this connection
and this love.
Regardless of the path we now forge in this life,
know this -
Forever and always,
you are my brother.
I love you.
I always have.
I always will.
I see your pain and your struggles.
I see your honest heart.
I see your soul stiving ever toward God.
You are sacred.
Your life is sacred.
Your path is sacred.
I love you.
May you ever walk in God's grace.
or the enmity you express toward me.
I don't know why the epicenter of your bitterness
seems to be my heart.
It's been so very long since I have touched your heart.
It feels already like several lifetimes have passed
since I felt your loving gaze.
For all those years,
I couldn't understand how what I believed to be
such a strong bond could be broken.
Yet, it was.
It broke my heart.
And even after all these years
of conscious healing and endeavors
to move forward,
the mere thought of seeing you again
set me squarely back on my heels.
As the day drew nearer,
I felt as a volcano,
long silent, now waking,
stirring, the long simmer
breaking into a broil, a frenzy
of anger, hurt, disbelief...
So that when, at last, I set eyes
upon your soul,
the volcano erupted.
There are behaviors you express toward me
that are not okay,
that have never been,
and will never be,
okay.
It feels that for the first time,
I said 'No. You will not act
toward me in that way.
Never again.'
And, the fact is,
you can't.
I will not allow it.
I am not your anger or your hate.
Sitting now with this experience,
I see some things.
First, I recognize a new strength
and centeredness in my self.
I feel, in a way I have never before experienced,
a love of self, a sense that my worth is defined
not by your fears or prejudice or anger or even
your love.
Second, I recognize that something broke in this encounter.
I felt it in that moment.
But, it was not what I thought it to be.
What I now understand is
that which broke
is the umbilical cord that attached my worth
to your judgment, the cord that tied us together
forever in an unhealthy, unmovable, repeating
cycle of hurt and misunderstanding.
And this explains the sense of lightness,
the feeling of freedom, of release, of newness.
It wasn't glee at having 'won an argument' or
'standing up to the bully' or anything so superficial.
It was the breaking of an unhealthy and rotting
cord of attachment between we two.
And in breaking that cord,
a whole new world of possibilities opened up
for us.
We can craft something anew.
We can find again the love that was once
so alive and fresh and lifegiving.
We may not take that path.
We may choose instead to be done
in this life.
And, I find I am okay with that too.
For I know that we are forever connected
one to the other,
and that we will have other opportunities
in other lives to explore anew this connection
and this love.
Regardless of the path we now forge in this life,
know this -
Forever and always,
you are my brother.
I love you.
I always have.
I always will.
I see your pain and your struggles.
I see your honest heart.
I see your soul stiving ever toward God.
You are sacred.
Your life is sacred.
Your path is sacred.
I love you.
May you ever walk in God's grace.
Compassion
You see, the truth of it is...
strive as I may to see the hope,
sometimes I don't.
Sometimes, like of late,
I am overcome with the
strife of my own life,
and the struggles of
humankind on this journey.
When I enter these
'dark nights of the soul'
I battle with myself.
Do I share in honesty
the crazed thoughts and
jumbled feelings tumbling
through my being?
Or do I wait till I have found
my way throught them
and then give the journey voice?
It feels so important to articulate
this sense I have that
there is hope
there is beauty
there is a way
through all this...
But then, it feels equally important to live
with integrity,
to not feign wisdom
when I feel none,
to honor the struggle,
to give voice to the pain,
to allow the confusion.
Without seeing the dark traversed,
words of hope and belief in possibilities
can seem like magic,
like a pinnicle that one can only read about
in the flowery words of another,
never experience for oneself.
So, I decide to share the tumble,
my own confusion,
the contradictions that are me,
for speaking with integrity feels
of utmost import to me.
This journey isn't all easy.
Sometimes, it seems impossible.
Sometimes, it hurts so bad that
life itself seems a cruel joke.
In speaking my pain, I am saying
'Namaste' to you,
'I see the divine spark in you.
My soul recognizes your soul.
I honor the all of you,
including
the pain, the suffering,
the confusion.'
strive as I may to see the hope,
sometimes I don't.
Sometimes, like of late,
I am overcome with the
strife of my own life,
and the struggles of
humankind on this journey.
When I enter these
'dark nights of the soul'
I battle with myself.
Do I share in honesty
the crazed thoughts and
jumbled feelings tumbling
through my being?
Or do I wait till I have found
my way throught them
and then give the journey voice?
It feels so important to articulate
this sense I have that
there is hope
there is beauty
there is a way
through all this...
But then, it feels equally important to live
with integrity,
to not feign wisdom
when I feel none,
to honor the struggle,
to give voice to the pain,
to allow the confusion.
Without seeing the dark traversed,
words of hope and belief in possibilities
can seem like magic,
like a pinnicle that one can only read about
in the flowery words of another,
never experience for oneself.
So, I decide to share the tumble,
my own confusion,
the contradictions that are me,
for speaking with integrity feels
of utmost import to me.
This journey isn't all easy.
Sometimes, it seems impossible.
Sometimes, it hurts so bad that
life itself seems a cruel joke.
In speaking my pain, I am saying
'Namaste' to you,
'I see the divine spark in you.
My soul recognizes your soul.
I honor the all of you,
including
the pain, the suffering,
the confusion.'
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Turning the Gaze of the Rich Uncle
The days are slipping by
and I suddenly realize that
I've been back from Viet Nam
already almost five weeks.
It was my intent to spend time
with family and friends during
what I believed would be a short
stop before the next call of Spirit.
What I didn't realize is how difficult
the re-integration back into this society
would be for me.
A dear friend and pastor once told a story
about a rich uncle, obese with wealth,
who regularly laid out feasts for his kin
and who then threw the scraps to his
dogs.
Meanwhile, on his front steps lay
the hungry, the cold, the homeless,
the hurting.
He never once turned his head
to thier plight,
nor did he ever question the possible
implications of his actions
on those others.
'As a country,' my friend asserted,
'we are that rich uncle.'
I witness that, I see it,
it breaks my heart.
And, the answer runs so much more deeply
than 'giving at the office'.
It is the way we live, our very lifestyle,
that is hurting others in our own country
and all round the world.
We have the fortune of being born into
the richest, most powerful country
in the world.
It is easy to forget that when burdened
by the impact of this current economy
and the strife we feel here.
But, it is true nonetheless.
Knowing how difficult it is for us now,
imagine how much more difficult it is
for someone who can't rely on having
clean water to drink or food for one's children
or safe refugee from the storms of life.
And, even if we can't see or imagine it,
our daily life decisions,
our lifestyle,
does impact people all round the world.
It is the nature of living in such a powerful
and wealthy country.
I so pray that this rich uncle could,
would turn his gaze to those
at his doorstep.
and I suddenly realize that
I've been back from Viet Nam
already almost five weeks.
It was my intent to spend time
with family and friends during
what I believed would be a short
stop before the next call of Spirit.
What I didn't realize is how difficult
the re-integration back into this society
would be for me.
A dear friend and pastor once told a story
about a rich uncle, obese with wealth,
who regularly laid out feasts for his kin
and who then threw the scraps to his
dogs.
Meanwhile, on his front steps lay
the hungry, the cold, the homeless,
the hurting.
He never once turned his head
to thier plight,
nor did he ever question the possible
implications of his actions
on those others.
'As a country,' my friend asserted,
'we are that rich uncle.'
I witness that, I see it,
it breaks my heart.
And, the answer runs so much more deeply
than 'giving at the office'.
It is the way we live, our very lifestyle,
that is hurting others in our own country
and all round the world.
We have the fortune of being born into
the richest, most powerful country
in the world.
It is easy to forget that when burdened
by the impact of this current economy
and the strife we feel here.
But, it is true nonetheless.
Knowing how difficult it is for us now,
imagine how much more difficult it is
for someone who can't rely on having
clean water to drink or food for one's children
or safe refugee from the storms of life.
And, even if we can't see or imagine it,
our daily life decisions,
our lifestyle,
does impact people all round the world.
It is the nature of living in such a powerful
and wealthy country.
I so pray that this rich uncle could,
would turn his gaze to those
at his doorstep.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Capitalism Has No Spirit
How do you fill your time if you don't watch TV all day?
What do you do if you can't go shopping?
How do you feel about yourself if your
clothes are second-hand?
Who are you if you don't 'have'?
What is your worth?
How is it measured?
What happens if you give love,
instead of gifts,
for Christmas?
What if the all the glitter and gold,
the tinsle and multi-thousand dollar debts,
were eliminated during December?
Could you
still feel Christmas?
What do you do if you can't go shopping?
How do you feel about yourself if your
clothes are second-hand?
Who are you if you don't 'have'?
What is your worth?
How is it measured?
What happens if you give love,
instead of gifts,
for Christmas?
What if the all the glitter and gold,
the tinsle and multi-thousand dollar debts,
were eliminated during December?
Could you
still feel Christmas?
Den of Theives
Chaotic noise, deep in the bowels of darkness,
shouting, laughter, squeals..
The smell corrupts my senses,
stench mixed with sweat and semen.
The air, rancid with lies and hate,
fear palaple, feeding the frenzy,
driving the masses ever further
into darkness.
Dancing, wild and frenzied.
The beat pounding, driving;
penetrating and scattering thought;
calling forth
the base,
the instinctual,
the raw...
Not animal-like, no,
for animals live in a sense of honor and respect
taking only what is necessary and in turn
giving of themselves for another.
The dark swallows
and the masses plunge;
swarming, strangling
in the sea of putrid hate
until they can swim no more,
only sink
to bottomless depths,
suffocating on their own fear.
What is this place?
Why am I brought here?
What am I to witness, to learn,
to understand from this journey
into depravity?
Dissolute lifestyles
manifest in disorders,
disease, death;
manic spending and throwing;
measures of self defined by measures of wealth...
What is this place?
How did we get ourselves here?
shouting, laughter, squeals..
The smell corrupts my senses,
stench mixed with sweat and semen.
The air, rancid with lies and hate,
fear palaple, feeding the frenzy,
driving the masses ever further
into darkness.
Dancing, wild and frenzied.
The beat pounding, driving;
penetrating and scattering thought;
calling forth
the base,
the instinctual,
the raw...
Not animal-like, no,
for animals live in a sense of honor and respect
taking only what is necessary and in turn
giving of themselves for another.
The dark swallows
and the masses plunge;
swarming, strangling
in the sea of putrid hate
until they can swim no more,
only sink
to bottomless depths,
suffocating on their own fear.
What is this place?
Why am I brought here?
What am I to witness, to learn,
to understand from this journey
into depravity?
Dissolute lifestyles
manifest in disorders,
disease, death;
manic spending and throwing;
measures of self defined by measures of wealth...
What is this place?
How did we get ourselves here?
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Let There be LIght
What is this thing...family?
Is it truly defined by birth and blood,
or do we confuse a reproductive mechanism
to continue the species
with the true meaning of family?
.............
Just now, I was taken up and found
myself among the stars,
gliding effortlessly through the universe.
On Eagles's back, I found my self,
soaring through the stars to learn
the answer
to my question.
I saw the earth, darkened by night,
all round.
Individual sparks of light appeared,
scattered around the earth.
Each spark, I recognized as one soul.
Then, my eyesight sharpened
and I saw the sparks moving,
recombining into various clusters,
then splitting again and re-combining.
But more than that,
I saw the dark spaces between the clustered lights.
I saw the dark spaces grow
and felt the dark as enmity, fear, loathing.
As the clusters broke apart, I felt
separation, anxiety, pain, hurt.
And, the migration of light between clusters
felt as a break
in the continuous connection
that is life.
I saw 'families' in every continent
torn apart by
difference, by
war, by
fear, by
misunderstanding, by
intolerance...
And I wept,
for in each break,
the darkness grew,
creating artificial separation
and cloaking the truth
that
we are all one family.
We are different.
We were meant to be different.
Our difference can make us strong,
can reveal to us the beauty that is life.
Yet, our difference
so frightens us
that we choose separation
instead of standing close
to that
which we can not understand.
I imagined a world in which
we dare to reach beyond
preconceived notions of family
and our fear of difference.
And, I saw the individual clusters of light
join,
one by one,
creating a path across the darkness,
allowing life to flow freely
between the light clusters.
In fascination, I watched
as the light traversed the darkness
connecting one to another
and another,
lighting up the world,
and creating a luminescence that shown
throughout the universe.
Once, a dark planet reflecting the sun,
it transformed,
now creating its own luminescence,
dim at first,
but expanding as each individual
reached beyond hir fear to touch
difference and recognize the other
as hir sister/brother.
One light shining ever more brightly
as each learned the truth.
We are one family - all.
One.
Let there be light.
Is it truly defined by birth and blood,
or do we confuse a reproductive mechanism
to continue the species
with the true meaning of family?
.............
Just now, I was taken up and found
myself among the stars,
gliding effortlessly through the universe.
On Eagles's back, I found my self,
soaring through the stars to learn
the answer
to my question.
I saw the earth, darkened by night,
all round.
Individual sparks of light appeared,
scattered around the earth.
Each spark, I recognized as one soul.
Then, my eyesight sharpened
and I saw the sparks moving,
recombining into various clusters,
then splitting again and re-combining.
But more than that,
I saw the dark spaces between the clustered lights.
I saw the dark spaces grow
and felt the dark as enmity, fear, loathing.
As the clusters broke apart, I felt
separation, anxiety, pain, hurt.
And, the migration of light between clusters
felt as a break
in the continuous connection
that is life.
I saw 'families' in every continent
torn apart by
difference, by
war, by
fear, by
misunderstanding, by
intolerance...
And I wept,
for in each break,
the darkness grew,
creating artificial separation
and cloaking the truth
that
we are all one family.
We are different.
We were meant to be different.
Our difference can make us strong,
can reveal to us the beauty that is life.
Yet, our difference
so frightens us
that we choose separation
instead of standing close
to that
which we can not understand.
I imagined a world in which
we dare to reach beyond
preconceived notions of family
and our fear of difference.
And, I saw the individual clusters of light
join,
one by one,
creating a path across the darkness,
allowing life to flow freely
between the light clusters.
In fascination, I watched
as the light traversed the darkness
connecting one to another
and another,
lighting up the world,
and creating a luminescence that shown
throughout the universe.
Once, a dark planet reflecting the sun,
it transformed,
now creating its own luminescence,
dim at first,
but expanding as each individual
reached beyond hir fear to touch
difference and recognize the other
as hir sister/brother.
One light shining ever more brightly
as each learned the truth.
We are one family - all.
One.
Let there be light.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Love and Fear
I woke up this morning
feeling entirely boggled
at why
we constrict, constrain, control
love.
In my own country,
we are taught from the earliest years
that love means a very specific relationship
between two very specific people.
There is no room for love to be felt
between people who don't fit the pre-defined roles,
or to experience love in a different kind of relationship.
There is no allowance for the changing face of love
to create its own definition of the most healthy
relationship between those who feel that love.
Yet, love persists.
It endows its blessings on all kinds of people,
requesting new, different and evolving relationships
to honor those people across situations and over time,
inspiring acts of kindness and compassion,
and generating creative energy for healing and growth.
So why, I ask,
do we expend phenomenal energy trying to
capture the most powerful force known to humankind,
and force it into
arbitrary boxes
with boundaries
designed to strangle and suffocate?
Why?
What fear in us drives us to run and hide
from the source of creation, compassion,
kindness, expansion, spiritual and human development?
It can't be a concern that love is limited...
for love multiplies exponentially.
It can't be that the heart has only so much room for love...
for even as space is kept for one love,
another space opens up inviting in another love,
and another,
and another...
Perhaps, fear itself
fears love.
Fear can not exist with love.
Like light illuminating the dark,
love encompasses and dissolves fear.
So, in a vain endeavor to maintain its own
stronghold on our hearts,
fear wages war on love,
hoping against all hope
that we not actually experience
real love.
For, if we do, we just may
choose love over fear.
feeling entirely boggled
at why
we constrict, constrain, control
love.
In my own country,
we are taught from the earliest years
that love means a very specific relationship
between two very specific people.
There is no room for love to be felt
between people who don't fit the pre-defined roles,
or to experience love in a different kind of relationship.
There is no allowance for the changing face of love
to create its own definition of the most healthy
relationship between those who feel that love.
Yet, love persists.
It endows its blessings on all kinds of people,
requesting new, different and evolving relationships
to honor those people across situations and over time,
inspiring acts of kindness and compassion,
and generating creative energy for healing and growth.
So why, I ask,
do we expend phenomenal energy trying to
capture the most powerful force known to humankind,
and force it into
arbitrary boxes
with boundaries
designed to strangle and suffocate?
Why?
What fear in us drives us to run and hide
from the source of creation, compassion,
kindness, expansion, spiritual and human development?
It can't be a concern that love is limited...
for love multiplies exponentially.
It can't be that the heart has only so much room for love...
for even as space is kept for one love,
another space opens up inviting in another love,
and another,
and another...
Perhaps, fear itself
fears love.
Fear can not exist with love.
Like light illuminating the dark,
love encompasses and dissolves fear.
So, in a vain endeavor to maintain its own
stronghold on our hearts,
fear wages war on love,
hoping against all hope
that we not actually experience
real love.
For, if we do, we just may
choose love over fear.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
It Just Is
Do you know that I will always love you?
The passing of time,
the love felt for another,
your anger or reserve,
nothing,
nothing,
will ever change that.
But, you know that, don't you?
And when you turn your eyes away,
or feign indifference,
it's because you feel the same.
It's okay.
Really.
Just know.
That's all.
The passing of time,
the love felt for another,
your anger or reserve,
nothing,
nothing,
will ever change that.
But, you know that, don't you?
And when you turn your eyes away,
or feign indifference,
it's because you feel the same.
It's okay.
Really.
Just know.
That's all.
Growth
Had a dream
There was a major theatrical production happening.
The person made me the producer.
Before I could explain that I didn't know anything
about producing,
he left.
There were people everywhere,
intent on creating this production,
each with hir own role,
well rehearsed.
All taking positions now so familiar,
chatting with friends won through
days and nights 'on stage'.
None, nothing
was familiar to me,
yet I was the Producer.
So, I stepped into the swirl
of activity, watching all who
seemed not aware of, or concerned with,
my presence.
I thought to offer a competition,
to build some comradarie. I interrupted the flow
to announce the competition and went
to the woman who had the book of questions.
But, she closed it, refusing my request,
challenging my authority or even
my right to be there.
I went back to the people and told
them it would be just a minute.
They resumed their activities
without hesitation, and I found
my own question for the competition.
So it continued throughout the day,
people angry at my presence,
unwilling to accept my role,
turning away offers of friendship.
But, I realized somewhere in the middle of all this
that I was handling each situation well.
I was finding my way through.
I was not internalizing their anger.
I was not becoming their rejection.
I was solid in my own sense of
self worth;
clear about who I am;
intent on fulfilling this new role in the best
way I could;
open, always open, to potential heart
openings;
and okay with wherever people
were on their own paths.
I was okay.
I am okay.
There was a major theatrical production happening.
The person made me the producer.
Before I could explain that I didn't know anything
about producing,
he left.
There were people everywhere,
intent on creating this production,
each with hir own role,
well rehearsed.
All taking positions now so familiar,
chatting with friends won through
days and nights 'on stage'.
None, nothing
was familiar to me,
yet I was the Producer.
So, I stepped into the swirl
of activity, watching all who
seemed not aware of, or concerned with,
my presence.
I thought to offer a competition,
to build some comradarie. I interrupted the flow
to announce the competition and went
to the woman who had the book of questions.
But, she closed it, refusing my request,
challenging my authority or even
my right to be there.
I went back to the people and told
them it would be just a minute.
They resumed their activities
without hesitation, and I found
my own question for the competition.
So it continued throughout the day,
people angry at my presence,
unwilling to accept my role,
turning away offers of friendship.
But, I realized somewhere in the middle of all this
that I was handling each situation well.
I was finding my way through.
I was not internalizing their anger.
I was not becoming their rejection.
I was solid in my own sense of
self worth;
clear about who I am;
intent on fulfilling this new role in the best
way I could;
open, always open, to potential heart
openings;
and okay with wherever people
were on their own paths.
I was okay.
I am okay.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Sweet and Gentle
The jet lag lulls me to sleep during mid day,
intent on confounding the deep confusion
already penetrating every cell of this body.
But, my mind - when not lost in a cloud of fuzz -
recognizes that staying awake when it's light outside
is a good thing.
So, that is my quest this week...
to stay awake during the day
and find sleep during the night.
Seemingly a simple task,
but it's taking all my energy
and leaving precious little for writing.
The muse is still here,
waiting patiently for my
body and mind to align with this
new place and time.
And then, she will push again,
for I believe she is not done,
perhaps only just started...
Namaste...
intent on confounding the deep confusion
already penetrating every cell of this body.
But, my mind - when not lost in a cloud of fuzz -
recognizes that staying awake when it's light outside
is a good thing.
So, that is my quest this week...
to stay awake during the day
and find sleep during the night.
Seemingly a simple task,
but it's taking all my energy
and leaving precious little for writing.
The muse is still here,
waiting patiently for my
body and mind to align with this
new place and time.
And then, she will push again,
for I believe she is not done,
perhaps only just started...
Namaste...
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
The See...I
There was a girl with stars in her eyes.
She danced and ran through the fields,
chasing after the vision
that played, always, just one step ahead.
Closer and closer, she drew,
yet always the vision eluded her.
But, the girl wouldn't give up.
'Why would this vision come to me,'
she thought,
'if not because I am to follow it?'
So she continued her chase,
bounding over rocks,
climbing hills,
gaining strength and clarity
with each step.
One day, she happened upon a pond,
and in it, she saw a beautiful young woman.
Startled, she stepped back.
And, the beautiful young woman disappeared.
She crept back to pond,
and looking therein, saw once again,
the beautiful young woman.
The young woman gazed back at her,
stars dancing in her eyes,
arms and torso strong,
blonde hair waving gently in the breeze.
For a very long time, the girl gazed
at the young woman.
Finally, she decided it was time to move on.
The vision would not be kept waiting.
So, with tears in her eyes,
she bid the beautiful young woman, 'good bye'.
And as she stepped away from the pond,
the young woman disappeared.
She ran, swift as a gazelle,
feeling the roar of a lioness building
in her lungs, sensing the changing seasons
against her skin,
led always by
the vision.
Sometimes, she felt herself lift off the ground,
saw herself flying among the stars,
felt the touch of angels.
She ran, danced, flew day-upon-day
until one bright morning,
she came upon a vast, churning
sea.
Across the sea, she saw
stones, spaced evenly apart
stretching into the distance...
and beyond that, her vision.
She sensed something different,
ominous, perilous, foreboding.
Even as she drew back from the water,
she saw, once again, the woman.
Only this time, the woman was older,
stronger, with a confidence and deep faith.
And she realized, the woman would take
her safely across the sea.
So, she stepped onto the stones
and began her crossing.
The waters churned as if in anger.
The wind whipped at her face.
The stones slipped beneath her feet.
Yet, she continued - her vision before her,
the woman at her side.
Days passed, the skies grew dark,
and the stones disappeared beneath
the broiling sea.
No shore was visible, only
the stone upon which she had not stepped.
And, the woman melted into the
frenzy that was the water,
leaving the girl alone, cold, frightened,
feeling a growing sense of death.
In the dark, she discovered she could
still see her vision in her mind, even if only dimly.
So, she closed her eyes and stepped forth,
one foot after the other,
feeling the stones beneath her feet.
Thus she strode, into the growing darkness and cold.
Until one day, she stepped upon a stone that gave way.
Quickly, she withdrew her foot and saw
the stone was, in fact, a turtle.
She could not step on it without killing it.
She turned her gaze back to the stones upon which
she had come,
but they were no longer there.
She was alone in the great, angry sea,
with nowhere to step except onto
a being that could not bear her weight.
Fright grabbed her heart for she knew
she could not hurt the turtle
and she could not turn back.
Holding tightly to the memory of the woman,
eyes closed to see her vision,
she stepped off the rock
into the sea...
She danced and ran through the fields,
chasing after the vision
that played, always, just one step ahead.
Closer and closer, she drew,
yet always the vision eluded her.
But, the girl wouldn't give up.
'Why would this vision come to me,'
she thought,
'if not because I am to follow it?'
So she continued her chase,
bounding over rocks,
climbing hills,
gaining strength and clarity
with each step.
One day, she happened upon a pond,
and in it, she saw a beautiful young woman.
Startled, she stepped back.
And, the beautiful young woman disappeared.
She crept back to pond,
and looking therein, saw once again,
the beautiful young woman.
The young woman gazed back at her,
stars dancing in her eyes,
arms and torso strong,
blonde hair waving gently in the breeze.
For a very long time, the girl gazed
at the young woman.
Finally, she decided it was time to move on.
The vision would not be kept waiting.
So, with tears in her eyes,
she bid the beautiful young woman, 'good bye'.
And as she stepped away from the pond,
the young woman disappeared.
She ran, swift as a gazelle,
feeling the roar of a lioness building
in her lungs, sensing the changing seasons
against her skin,
led always by
the vision.
Sometimes, she felt herself lift off the ground,
saw herself flying among the stars,
felt the touch of angels.
She ran, danced, flew day-upon-day
until one bright morning,
she came upon a vast, churning
sea.
Across the sea, she saw
stones, spaced evenly apart
stretching into the distance...
and beyond that, her vision.
She sensed something different,
ominous, perilous, foreboding.
Even as she drew back from the water,
she saw, once again, the woman.
Only this time, the woman was older,
stronger, with a confidence and deep faith.
And she realized, the woman would take
her safely across the sea.
So, she stepped onto the stones
and began her crossing.
The waters churned as if in anger.
The wind whipped at her face.
The stones slipped beneath her feet.
Yet, she continued - her vision before her,
the woman at her side.
Days passed, the skies grew dark,
and the stones disappeared beneath
the broiling sea.
No shore was visible, only
the stone upon which she had not stepped.
And, the woman melted into the
frenzy that was the water,
leaving the girl alone, cold, frightened,
feeling a growing sense of death.
In the dark, she discovered she could
still see her vision in her mind, even if only dimly.
So, she closed her eyes and stepped forth,
one foot after the other,
feeling the stones beneath her feet.
Thus she strode, into the growing darkness and cold.
Until one day, she stepped upon a stone that gave way.
Quickly, she withdrew her foot and saw
the stone was, in fact, a turtle.
She could not step on it without killing it.
She turned her gaze back to the stones upon which
she had come,
but they were no longer there.
She was alone in the great, angry sea,
with nowhere to step except onto
a being that could not bear her weight.
Fright grabbed her heart for she knew
she could not hurt the turtle
and she could not turn back.
Holding tightly to the memory of the woman,
eyes closed to see her vision,
she stepped off the rock
into the sea...
The See...II
The waters swallowed her,
pulling her ever more deeply into
the dark, wet abyss.
Holding her breath,
feeling her lungs burning,
knowing she couldn't hold
much longer.
Seeing, still, the vision in her mind,
even as her limbs grew still
and she drew the liquid breath.
Knowing she could never step
on the turtle.
She could not harm another
for her own benefit.
Floating gently on the tide.
Not feeling the cold or the wet.
Feeling only release and peace.
Ours is to live and strive and learn
and, sometimes, to struggle
and question...
but never to harm another
on our way.
The see,
gentle and warm,
blue and effervescent,
giving way to the quiet but powerful
rhythm of the turtle,
now gliding under the girl,
lifting her gently on its back,
carrying her on,
her vision gleaming in its eyes.
See
We are one.
Harming another, no matter how small,
harms us all.
Walk in peace, love always,
harm never,
on this journey.
pulling her ever more deeply into
the dark, wet abyss.
Holding her breath,
feeling her lungs burning,
knowing she couldn't hold
much longer.
Seeing, still, the vision in her mind,
even as her limbs grew still
and she drew the liquid breath.
Knowing she could never step
on the turtle.
She could not harm another
for her own benefit.
Floating gently on the tide.
Not feeling the cold or the wet.
Feeling only release and peace.
Ours is to live and strive and learn
and, sometimes, to struggle
and question...
but never to harm another
on our way.
The see,
gentle and warm,
blue and effervescent,
giving way to the quiet but powerful
rhythm of the turtle,
now gliding under the girl,
lifting her gently on its back,
carrying her on,
her vision gleaming in its eyes.
See
We are one.
Harming another, no matter how small,
harms us all.
Walk in peace, love always,
harm never,
on this journey.
Monday, November 5, 2012
We are Human, After All
I became aware some time back
that being human is a
contradiction of terms.
We hold within these earthly bodies,
light and dark,
peace and malcontent,
hope and fear...
Always, we step forward
embodying extreme opposites,
balancing seemingly impossible juxtapositions.
In our pursuit of the light,
shall we deny the dark?
Shall we pretend that it doesn't
exist side-by-side with our light?
I worry always that we shun that
which doesn't fit our image of
who we are supposed to be,
that we pretend the questions,
the fears, the doubts, the ...
don't exist.
For, in so doing, we deny
our humanity.
Perhaps, we are angels in human form.
Perhaps, we are old souls.
We can be all that
AND
we are human,
at the same time.
And being human isn't all that easy!
Sometimes, it hurts so bad,
you want to scream bloody hell!
Sometimes, you feel so angry,
you could rip the head off a lion.
Sometimes, you are so frightened,
the rock under which you hide
is the only place you feel safe.
Sometimes, the goodwill morphs into
envy, or dislike or even hate.
We are in human form.
I sincerely believe that part of
our evolution
is to come to terms with that simple fact.
Dare we love the dark in our selves?
Dare we admit our failings, our misperceptions,
our misgivings, our doubts?
Dare we allow the other the same?
Can we love our selves
and the other
in our raw, imperfect, tarnished form?
that being human is a
contradiction of terms.
We hold within these earthly bodies,
light and dark,
peace and malcontent,
hope and fear...
Always, we step forward
embodying extreme opposites,
balancing seemingly impossible juxtapositions.
In our pursuit of the light,
shall we deny the dark?
Shall we pretend that it doesn't
exist side-by-side with our light?
I worry always that we shun that
which doesn't fit our image of
who we are supposed to be,
that we pretend the questions,
the fears, the doubts, the ...
don't exist.
For, in so doing, we deny
our humanity.
Perhaps, we are angels in human form.
Perhaps, we are old souls.
We can be all that
AND
we are human,
at the same time.
And being human isn't all that easy!
Sometimes, it hurts so bad,
you want to scream bloody hell!
Sometimes, you feel so angry,
you could rip the head off a lion.
Sometimes, you are so frightened,
the rock under which you hide
is the only place you feel safe.
Sometimes, the goodwill morphs into
envy, or dislike or even hate.
We are in human form.
I sincerely believe that part of
our evolution
is to come to terms with that simple fact.
Dare we love the dark in our selves?
Dare we admit our failings, our misperceptions,
our misgivings, our doubts?
Dare we allow the other the same?
Can we love our selves
and the other
in our raw, imperfect, tarnished form?
the Harbinger
Seems a lifetime ago that I wrote this poem.
And from where do they come?
I could feel my soul dying, but knew not why.
I had planned, so carefully, my life,
had chosen with whom I wanted to share it,
crafted a family and home and vocation.
Yet, something was desperately wrong.
I could feel it, sense it,
but I couldn't see it.
It felt as if the life force within me
was withering,
and soon all that would be left
was a body, a shell,
a veneer covering a vast
emptiness.
Just two years later,
I learned...
and then, I spent the next ten years
watching as it all,
all of it,
fell apart.
July 23, 1996
Why does my soul cry out so?
Not the wailing of loss,
but the whimper of the lost.
Why do the tears turns to rage?
Why do I hide from those I love?
Desperately closing out their voices and faces
in the steady drone of the television?
What child is in me, scared;
so used to the dark, comfortable in its security
and strangling in its web?
Why does my soul cry so?
What has it lost?
Where should I look?
How do I rid - finally - the desperate scream,
the never ending sorrow, the emptiness?
Please God
If only I knew what it was,
I could work with it,
soothe the pain, find peace,
fill the emptiness.
Years have passed.
Some moments so deep in pain;
with the ever present boding
that I am trapped inside with no way out.
I can no longer hide in this quiet hell.
I must break out;
I must understand how to break out;
Please let me loose;
Please let me go.
Show me the wound,
Help me to heal it,
Let me live, love.
Please..
I remember -
I used to soar to the stars;
I smelled the pines;
I was one with the earth and sky.
There seemed no limits, no fear, no end
to the possibilities, the love, the joy.
I remember -
but I no longer feel.
The stars have wandered far from my gaze,
The pines keep their scent from me,
The earth has become only the surface upon which I tread.
The sky - the impossibilities, the vast open of fear.
Where once there was excitement of adventure,
there now is growing fear.
Where once there was simple wonderful joy,
there now is anger and more anger.
What happened? Where is
the joy,
the stars,
the sky,
the pines,
my heart?
Gifts of the Harbinger
A few days ago I shared a poem that,
now looking back,
I understand was my soul
preparing to open itself to a knowledge
that would burn like wildfire
through my life.
That knowledge, finally,
was shared with me,
and like a great ball of fire, it
burned
destroyed
decimated
everything in its path.
No one and nothing was left untouched.
The fury and hunger of the beast
unleashed seemed endless.
The horror of the dark exposed
was stunning.
Yes, there was dark in my self.
But, I witnessed also
the dark in others,
saw it bare its ferocious fangs,
swing its mighty claws,
scream its bloody cry.
I believe we are given our greatest tests in life
as a gift, an opportunity
to learn wisdom of great import,
so that we can then offer it back
to life.
Many years, I have spent healing,
trying to understand, re-building,
re-visioning, re-crafting, healing,
trying to move beyond...
I set out to share this story in hopes
that some of that coveted wisdom
would grace itself upon me so I could
share it with others and show that there
really is hope,
even when all is darker than dark.
But, I find in this endeavor that the pain still lies just below the surface.
And, I find myself once again on my knees,
asking what it will take, finally,
to heal these wounds,
praying to find the wisdom and courage
in myself to forgive and allow and love,
just as I have so wanted from others.
Perhaps, I can start by visualizing each one,
and surrounding him/her in brilliant white light,
and love, unconditional love,
not mine to give,
but to pass on.
Perhaps, that is where I will start.
now looking back,
I understand was my soul
preparing to open itself to a knowledge
that would burn like wildfire
through my life.
That knowledge, finally,
was shared with me,
and like a great ball of fire, it
burned
destroyed
decimated
everything in its path.
No one and nothing was left untouched.
The fury and hunger of the beast
unleashed seemed endless.
The horror of the dark exposed
was stunning.
Yes, there was dark in my self.
But, I witnessed also
the dark in others,
saw it bare its ferocious fangs,
swing its mighty claws,
scream its bloody cry.
I believe we are given our greatest tests in life
as a gift, an opportunity
to learn wisdom of great import,
so that we can then offer it back
to life.
Many years, I have spent healing,
trying to understand, re-building,
re-visioning, re-crafting, healing,
trying to move beyond...
I set out to share this story in hopes
that some of that coveted wisdom
would grace itself upon me so I could
share it with others and show that there
really is hope,
even when all is darker than dark.
But, I find in this endeavor that the pain still lies just below the surface.
And, I find myself once again on my knees,
asking what it will take, finally,
to heal these wounds,
praying to find the wisdom and courage
in myself to forgive and allow and love,
just as I have so wanted from others.
Perhaps, I can start by visualizing each one,
and surrounding him/her in brilliant white light,
and love, unconditional love,
not mine to give,
but to pass on.
Perhaps, that is where I will start.
Finding the Gifts of the Harbinger
How do you break the chains of the past?
Wise ones from the native people's would say,
you re-write the dream.
Choose to step out of the role in which
you cast yourself
and recast yourself in a different way.
You create your reality, not just figuratively,
but quite literally.
In search of wisdom, I instead found
a child still wounded.
And that child wants to teach me.
So, I listen
for I do not want to be held
by chains of my own craft.
I want to evolve
through the rich experiences
offered me in this life.
It is true,
my discovery set in motion
a vast tide that swept over many
including myself,
and challenged us all,
some of us at the very core of our being.
Perhaps, that in itself was the gift.
Mindful that I can speak for no other,
I revert back to the first person
so to honor the path that others must/choose
to walk.
Looking back now, I see there was no other way.
This part of me had to be birthed
for therein lie the gifts.
And the part I want to re-write?
No longer am I the 'victim of circumstance'.
I am co-creator.
No longer am I defined by, nor does my worth
depend on, what others think of me...
or what I think of myself.
No longer am I the 'betrayed', the 'abandoned',
the 'cast-out', the 'ugly', the 'worthless',
the 'disappointment'...
I am different...
and that is not a bad thing!
Others who are confronted with my
differentness are, in turn, invited to peer within
to see what evolves there.
It is not for me to dictate or judge their response.
It is their walk, not mine.
If I can accept each in hir own response
and see it as a reflection of hir own journey,
I will be respecting that person just as s/he is
and honoring the path s/he is walking in this life.
That's for starters!
Wise ones from the native people's would say,
you re-write the dream.
Choose to step out of the role in which
you cast yourself
and recast yourself in a different way.
You create your reality, not just figuratively,
but quite literally.
In search of wisdom, I instead found
a child still wounded.
And that child wants to teach me.
So, I listen
for I do not want to be held
by chains of my own craft.
I want to evolve
through the rich experiences
offered me in this life.
It is true,
my discovery set in motion
a vast tide that swept over many
including myself,
and challenged us all,
some of us at the very core of our being.
Perhaps, that in itself was the gift.
Mindful that I can speak for no other,
I revert back to the first person
so to honor the path that others must/choose
to walk.
Looking back now, I see there was no other way.
This part of me had to be birthed
for therein lie the gifts.
And the part I want to re-write?
No longer am I the 'victim of circumstance'.
I am co-creator.
No longer am I defined by, nor does my worth
depend on, what others think of me...
or what I think of myself.
No longer am I the 'betrayed', the 'abandoned',
the 'cast-out', the 'ugly', the 'worthless',
the 'disappointment'...
I am different...
and that is not a bad thing!
Others who are confronted with my
differentness are, in turn, invited to peer within
to see what evolves there.
It is not for me to dictate or judge their response.
It is their walk, not mine.
If I can accept each in hir own response
and see it as a reflection of hir own journey,
I will be respecting that person just as s/he is
and honoring the path s/he is walking in this life.
That's for starters!
Sunday, November 4, 2012
just beyond
I recently realized that when I post on my blog,
the poem shows up in my 'yesterday'.
Even as the words flow from my fingers,
my friends in the states
are reading them in the day already
a part of my past.
Yet, I write and they read
at the same moment.
So, I examine my flight ticket home.
I'll leave Seoul, South Korea at 11pm on Saturday
and arrive in Los Angeles, USA at 7am on
that same day?!
Smiling.
No matter how hard I try,
I can not put together the logic
of this phenomenon.
Yes, I've read the literature
and, if I read it again right now,
I could actually recite it before
it once again slipped from my memory.
And, this is merely one simple law of physics.
There is so much more we can't even fathom,
much less describe or understand.
It truly is a mystery.
the poem shows up in my 'yesterday'.
Even as the words flow from my fingers,
my friends in the states
are reading them in the day already
a part of my past.
Yet, I write and they read
at the same moment.
So, I examine my flight ticket home.
I'll leave Seoul, South Korea at 11pm on Saturday
and arrive in Los Angeles, USA at 7am on
that same day?!
Smiling.
No matter how hard I try,
I can not put together the logic
of this phenomenon.
Yes, I've read the literature
and, if I read it again right now,
I could actually recite it before
it once again slipped from my memory.
And, this is merely one simple law of physics.
There is so much more we can't even fathom,
much less describe or understand.
It truly is a mystery.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
My Son
My dear son
Only hours ago, you learned of
the passing of your friend.
I can only imagine those hours
took forever to unfold,
each moment opening your
innocent heart to the ravages
that only death
can impart.
I cry for your friend,
not yet an adult,
and the experiences she
will never have in this lifetime.
And, I cry for the loss of your
innocence,
for having been visited by death,
you are forever touched
by knowledge that we are all
mortal.
There is a sorrow in that realization,
the depths from which you feel
you may never emerge.
The earth shakes under your feet.
Reality suddenly looks and feels different.
It is unfamiliar, scary, and unwanted.
You have just been launched on a journey
that may take years to unfold
and for which you may feel entirely
unprepared.
The fact is, sweetie, none of us is really prepared
for life as it comes to us.
But, we have each other, and we have
the love of God and guidance
of our spirit guides.
We all hold you now, closely,
in a love that nothing - not even death -
can touch.
As you face the terror and mystery
of death,
know that we are by your side,
even when you can't feel us...
Forever and a day.
Only hours ago, you learned of
the passing of your friend.
I can only imagine those hours
took forever to unfold,
each moment opening your
innocent heart to the ravages
that only death
can impart.
I cry for your friend,
not yet an adult,
and the experiences she
will never have in this lifetime.
And, I cry for the loss of your
innocence,
for having been visited by death,
you are forever touched
by knowledge that we are all
mortal.
There is a sorrow in that realization,
the depths from which you feel
you may never emerge.
The earth shakes under your feet.
Reality suddenly looks and feels different.
It is unfamiliar, scary, and unwanted.
You have just been launched on a journey
that may take years to unfold
and for which you may feel entirely
unprepared.
The fact is, sweetie, none of us is really prepared
for life as it comes to us.
But, we have each other, and we have
the love of God and guidance
of our spirit guides.
We all hold you now, closely,
in a love that nothing - not even death -
can touch.
As you face the terror and mystery
of death,
know that we are by your side,
even when you can't feel us...
Forever and a day.
A Mother's Grief
There is a woman I know only by sight.
So many times, I saw you
as we both watched our dear children
grow through childhood.
Passing each other at play rehearsals.
Sitting in the same audience.
Watching them on stage,
singing, dancing, playing.
Crossing paths at the grocery store, child in hand.
Watching them accept their high school diploma...
And now, as you sit in shock
at life's demand that you bid 'farewell'
to your beautiful daughter,
tears well in my eyes
and my heart aches for the
pain which no mother can
ever
imagine...
that of saying 'good-bye' to a child.
I carry you in my heart
and prayers this day forward.
May you feel God's grace
in this moment,
and for all the days of your life.
So many times, I saw you
as we both watched our dear children
grow through childhood.
Passing each other at play rehearsals.
Sitting in the same audience.
Watching them on stage,
singing, dancing, playing.
Crossing paths at the grocery store, child in hand.
Watching them accept their high school diploma...
And now, as you sit in shock
at life's demand that you bid 'farewell'
to your beautiful daughter,
tears well in my eyes
and my heart aches for the
pain which no mother can
ever
imagine...
that of saying 'good-bye' to a child.
I carry you in my heart
and prayers this day forward.
May you feel God's grace
in this moment,
and for all the days of your life.
Another Invitation; Another Shift
13 November 2010
Last night, when the Kundalini came again, I spoke with it.
I look around at my life and see the vestiges of my ‘taking it apart’,
Last night, when the Kundalini came again, I spoke with it.
Then, I turned my attention to that entity from the stars – El.
As I did, I felt my self go in, deep in, to me and then out.
I sensed a vast openness. And that’s where I found my self.
I said, ‘I want to know you.’
I realized that I have been like a third party, looking in on my self.
I realized that I have been like a third party, looking in on my self.
As things have happened, like
the energy in my body or hearing people’s thoughts,
the energy in my body or hearing people’s thoughts,
I look on with surprise and disbelief, as if reading another’s story.
I feel the effects of my resistance..
the cloudiness, the confusion, tiredness,
the sense of loss, the feeling that it is all so hard.
What I haven’t yet done is to ‘own’ all this as me.
the sense of loss, the feeling that it is all so hard.
What I haven’t yet done is to ‘own’ all this as me.
Only last week I gathered the courage to articulate, for the first time,
what I have known since childhood...that I am not from here.
Having finally said that, I felt this incredible weight lift and
sensed a different kind of freedom.
Having finally said that, I felt this incredible weight lift and
sensed a different kind of freedom.
I really am not from here. I really am from somewhere in the stars.
And, I am old. That’s not someone else.
That’s me.
I felt yesterday that I had to commit to this journey at a deeper level.
That’s me.
I felt yesterday that I had to commit to this journey at a deeper level.
Last night, I realized that I need to own it.
I need to stop resisting. I need to unblock the chakras and truly
allow my unfolding.
I look around at my life and see the vestiges of my ‘taking it apart’,
literally clearing it of the past, of material things, of a specific career path,
and even of having any work right now.
I have created an open space.
I thought that was for when my son graduated,
but I’m realizing that it is for right now.
I am being asked to make the shift now.
I am being asked to make the shift now.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Finding My Way Back
3 November 2010
Yes, we stand in our own way.
The bane of our existence is our self.
Yes, we stand in our own way.
The bane of our existence is our self.
It’s a lot of work to cleanse and keep cleansing.
Have to take responsibility for yourself.
Easier to blame others, to be angry,
or to carry righteous indignation,
as they all take the focus off oneself.
The other option is to focus on self – always asking
‘What is going on inside me now?’
It’s work to face oneself.
So much work to do.
Necessary to be diligent and always aware.
Self is slippery, trying to get away from responsibility.
Wants to take the easy path.
Wants a break.
Have to take responsibility for yourself.
Easier to blame others, to be angry,
or to carry righteous indignation,
as they all take the focus off oneself.
The other option is to focus on self – always asking
‘What is going on inside me now?’
It’s work to face oneself.
So much work to do.
Necessary to be diligent and always aware.
Self is slippery, trying to get away from responsibility.
Wants to take the easy path.
Wants a break.
But, it’s a commitment to a way of life…
to be always aware of self,
misinformation created,
protections inappropriately applied,
separation tactics,
fear hidden behind anger,
disengagement cloaked as detachment
indignation at others…
So many fault lines set by one’s self.
So easy to trip over illusions created by one’s self.
Amazing we get through a single day without tripping…
or do we?
And the purpose???
Trying to find our way back to God.
Trying to learn and live our purpose.
I am here for a purpose.
I am trying to find my way back to that purpose,
blinded by the human form I have taken,
trapped in the life experiences and perceptions
of this being in which I reside.
I know now that I AM.
I know that I chose this form.
I know I accepted this path,
committed to it long before entering this form.
I know that I remain committed to this path.
It is who I am, why I am.
I can no more say ‘no’ to it than I can
to taking the next breath.
This is not a matter of choice or will.
It, quite simply, is
why I exist.
to be always aware of self,
misinformation created,
protections inappropriately applied,
separation tactics,
fear hidden behind anger,
disengagement cloaked as detachment
indignation at others…
So many fault lines set by one’s self.
So easy to trip over illusions created by one’s self.
Amazing we get through a single day without tripping…
or do we?
And the purpose???
Trying to find our way back to God.
Trying to learn and live our purpose.
I am here for a purpose.
I am trying to find my way back to that purpose,
blinded by the human form I have taken,
trapped in the life experiences and perceptions
of this being in which I reside.
I know now that I AM.
I know that I chose this form.
I know I accepted this path,
committed to it long before entering this form.
I know that I remain committed to this path.
It is who I am, why I am.
I can no more say ‘no’ to it than I can
to taking the next breath.
This is not a matter of choice or will.
It, quite simply, is
why I exist.
the Journey Taken
I have been reflecting on the last couple years.
Tried to share in the next series of posts, the journey
as it unfolded.
However, my techno-abilities have once again
shown themselves to be on the limited side!
So, the posts did not come out in order.
Perhaps that's not all bad.
For our journeys through life really aren't
linear or ordered the way in which we would like
them to be.
Rather, they defy our best laid plans
and show us paths we could never
conceive on our own.
I guess what's amazing to me,
is that this all happened.
In the recounting, I remember
and relive.
I can see now
what was then so
hidden from me.
Thing is,
it was the living through it
that finally made it
visible to me.
It's not the destination,
but rather,
the journey taken.
Tried to share in the next series of posts, the journey
as it unfolded.
However, my techno-abilities have once again
shown themselves to be on the limited side!
So, the posts did not come out in order.
Perhaps that's not all bad.
For our journeys through life really aren't
linear or ordered the way in which we would like
them to be.
Rather, they defy our best laid plans
and show us paths we could never
conceive on our own.
I guess what's amazing to me,
is that this all happened.
In the recounting, I remember
and relive.
I can see now
what was then so
hidden from me.
Thing is,
it was the living through it
that finally made it
visible to me.
It's not the destination,
but rather,
the journey taken.
The Dark Can Not Exist in the Light
10 November 2010
The movie – Agora – taught me
The movie – Agora – taught me
an important lesson about intolerance.
Intolerance starts with ignorance,
is fed by fear,
lavishes in hate and
ultimately leads to loss of life.
It is that simple.
We all have the capacity for light and darkness.
It is that simple.
We all have the capacity for light and darkness.
Our fears lead us into the dark.
The light in us shows us out of the darkness
and challenges us to examine our own fears and intolerance.
I must learn my way through my own intolerance
I must learn my way through my own intolerance
or the fear in me will ignite
and I will create darkness even though my will is to create light.
Kundalini and My Father
11 November 2010
I had a realization last night. I know where the Kundalini came from. It started in May of 2010. I arrived back from Zimbabwe in April. In the last days of my sojourn there and the first weeks back, I submitted a request to the ancestors to petition my father to let me go so that I could discover my full spiritual gifts. The Kundalini started just weeks after.
The Kundalini came on suddenly and with incredible strength. I thought I was going crazy. Nothing could resolve the burning inside me, the energy storm in my body. Every day, it intensified, came more frequently, became more disabling. I spent much time in the beginning, soaking in the tub, running, crying, meditating, feeling like I was falling into madness, not understanding.
During those initial days, I drew a card – that of the snake. It talked about transformation – that I was going through a transformation. I accepted that, but did not relate it to the crazy energy in my body. It was then that my teacher suggested that perhaps it was Kundalini energy rising. I did a bit of research on Kundalini and found it is related to a snake – my card.
But, the energy was dominating my existence, and I quickly became frustrated with the research. I had very little patience for anything and felt desperate to stop the craziness inside me.
The episode in June lasted weeks, was incredibly intense and painful. I call them episodes because once they started, they would last anywhere from several days to several weeks, changing only in severity. The energy seemed to be born from, and dwelled in, what I now know is my Root Chakra. Here is how I described it at that time,
'The Kundalini is recurrent in terms of the intense energy; the extreme discomfort and sometimes pain; the inability to resolve it; the explosions out the top of my head; the clarity and openness afterward; the intense flux of numerous ‘understandings’ and realizations coming so fast that I barely have time to register them much less integrate them intellectually; the feelings of depression; the need for lots of sleep; the buzzing throughout my body; the disorientation and ‘spaciness’; the inability to focus on paid work; the need for alone time….'
Within days of first experiencing the energy, I met a new spirit guide, the Crone. She was an elderly woman with white hair, wearing Native American clothing. Soon after, I met the White Wolf. I started to turn to my spirit guides and did some research on Kundalini energy. It got me through the episode in June.
In the last 5 months, I have made small advances in ‘working with’ and ‘being with’ this process. I have been able to move the energy with my hands. I have been able to move it to places on my body that were hurting and use it to heal. I think I understand part of why the energy gets stuck in my root chakra. I realized last night what started it all. It didn’t come out of the blue. It was gifted to me as a result of the request I made to my father to stop protecting me so that I could walk my path.
One day, as I lay in the tub, it started again. I decided to let go, so I focused on breathing and being quiet. I was able to do it for a while, but then was overcome by it and started crying again. The next day, I tried again. I meditated and became quiet; when I felt centered, I invited it back. I felt the familiar burning in my Root chakra and the rising of the energy into my torso. I imagined my outward breath collecting under the energy and gently pushing it upward. I imagined my inward breath pulling the energy up into my head. After a bit, I felt it rise up through my body. As it did, my body moved to straighten out the spine and my head pulled back. I felt the energy rise into my head. It met with the white energy I was pulling in through the Crown Chakra. My entire body buzzed, gentle, beautiful, quiet, peaceful. I don’t know how long that lasted. Each breath created the experience anew. When it finally receded, my entire body was tingling – for a very long time.
That was the break through. After that, I started to - occasionally - experience the energy as a companion and assistant, working on chakras and emotions that were ‘off’, sending tingling sensation throughout my body, leaving my arms numb….every day, night.
But in the last days, I have become depressed. Lots of negative energy that I can’t seem to dispel – negative thoughts and feelings that run rampant through my mind. I can see them and want to stop them, but can’t seem to do it.
------------------------
3 November 2012
It is two years now since I wrote that journal entry. I smile because I understand now why my father was protecting me from taking that journey. You see, my father is one of my spirit guides. He passed in the year 2000, after a life-time of giving back to every soul that crossed his path.
He was a great man in my eyes, my first hero.
And being his only daughter, I believe he felt a particular need
to protect me from the vagaries and potential dangers of life.
Even so, when I was just 19 and demanded that I would hike - alone -
into the woods, he gathered the courage to walk with me part way,
and then watch as I marched up the hill.
Many years later, I met a shaman in Zimbabwe, Fungai,
who knew both me and my father,
without ever having met us.
For some time, I had been experiencing many different
things; hearing people's thoughts, 'knowing' when something
was going to happen, feeling another peering through my eyes,
communicating with spirits...
But, it all felt like a taste-test, a tease,
as the experiences were not consistent,
didn't seem to be melding into anything
that I could 'hold' - as if you can hold spirit?!
Yet, I felt like I was being held back,
like something was stopping me from
moving to the next place on this journey.
Then, I met Fungai, and he told me of my father.
It was then that I realized that my father,
in his love for me, was protecting me.
He was stopping me.
That is when I asked Fungai to petition the ancestors
on my behalf, to ask my father to
let me go, to let me walk my path.
And, once again, my father who now had
sight beyond a mere mortal,
let me go.
He was right in trying to protect me.
The journey with Kundalini did bring me to my knees,
and dangled me on the edge of madness.
But, he was also right in letting me go.
This is the path I must walk.
And, I thank him again,
my father, the sage, my spirit guide,
Pastor Olaf Elmar Magis.
I had a realization last night. I know where the Kundalini came from. It started in May of 2010. I arrived back from Zimbabwe in April. In the last days of my sojourn there and the first weeks back, I submitted a request to the ancestors to petition my father to let me go so that I could discover my full spiritual gifts. The Kundalini started just weeks after.
The Kundalini came on suddenly and with incredible strength. I thought I was going crazy. Nothing could resolve the burning inside me, the energy storm in my body. Every day, it intensified, came more frequently, became more disabling. I spent much time in the beginning, soaking in the tub, running, crying, meditating, feeling like I was falling into madness, not understanding.
During those initial days, I drew a card – that of the snake. It talked about transformation – that I was going through a transformation. I accepted that, but did not relate it to the crazy energy in my body. It was then that my teacher suggested that perhaps it was Kundalini energy rising. I did a bit of research on Kundalini and found it is related to a snake – my card.
But, the energy was dominating my existence, and I quickly became frustrated with the research. I had very little patience for anything and felt desperate to stop the craziness inside me.
The episode in June lasted weeks, was incredibly intense and painful. I call them episodes because once they started, they would last anywhere from several days to several weeks, changing only in severity. The energy seemed to be born from, and dwelled in, what I now know is my Root Chakra. Here is how I described it at that time,
'The Kundalini is recurrent in terms of the intense energy; the extreme discomfort and sometimes pain; the inability to resolve it; the explosions out the top of my head; the clarity and openness afterward; the intense flux of numerous ‘understandings’ and realizations coming so fast that I barely have time to register them much less integrate them intellectually; the feelings of depression; the need for lots of sleep; the buzzing throughout my body; the disorientation and ‘spaciness’; the inability to focus on paid work; the need for alone time….'
Within days of first experiencing the energy, I met a new spirit guide, the Crone. She was an elderly woman with white hair, wearing Native American clothing. Soon after, I met the White Wolf. I started to turn to my spirit guides and did some research on Kundalini energy. It got me through the episode in June.
In the last 5 months, I have made small advances in ‘working with’ and ‘being with’ this process. I have been able to move the energy with my hands. I have been able to move it to places on my body that were hurting and use it to heal. I think I understand part of why the energy gets stuck in my root chakra. I realized last night what started it all. It didn’t come out of the blue. It was gifted to me as a result of the request I made to my father to stop protecting me so that I could walk my path.
One day, as I lay in the tub, it started again. I decided to let go, so I focused on breathing and being quiet. I was able to do it for a while, but then was overcome by it and started crying again. The next day, I tried again. I meditated and became quiet; when I felt centered, I invited it back. I felt the familiar burning in my Root chakra and the rising of the energy into my torso. I imagined my outward breath collecting under the energy and gently pushing it upward. I imagined my inward breath pulling the energy up into my head. After a bit, I felt it rise up through my body. As it did, my body moved to straighten out the spine and my head pulled back. I felt the energy rise into my head. It met with the white energy I was pulling in through the Crown Chakra. My entire body buzzed, gentle, beautiful, quiet, peaceful. I don’t know how long that lasted. Each breath created the experience anew. When it finally receded, my entire body was tingling – for a very long time.
That was the break through. After that, I started to - occasionally - experience the energy as a companion and assistant, working on chakras and emotions that were ‘off’, sending tingling sensation throughout my body, leaving my arms numb….every day, night.
But in the last days, I have become depressed. Lots of negative energy that I can’t seem to dispel – negative thoughts and feelings that run rampant through my mind. I can see them and want to stop them, but can’t seem to do it.
------------------------
3 November 2012
It is two years now since I wrote that journal entry. I smile because I understand now why my father was protecting me from taking that journey. You see, my father is one of my spirit guides. He passed in the year 2000, after a life-time of giving back to every soul that crossed his path.
He was a great man in my eyes, my first hero.
And being his only daughter, I believe he felt a particular need
to protect me from the vagaries and potential dangers of life.
Even so, when I was just 19 and demanded that I would hike - alone -
into the woods, he gathered the courage to walk with me part way,
and then watch as I marched up the hill.
Many years later, I met a shaman in Zimbabwe, Fungai,
who knew both me and my father,
without ever having met us.
For some time, I had been experiencing many different
things; hearing people's thoughts, 'knowing' when something
was going to happen, feeling another peering through my eyes,
communicating with spirits...
But, it all felt like a taste-test, a tease,
as the experiences were not consistent,
didn't seem to be melding into anything
that I could 'hold' - as if you can hold spirit?!
Yet, I felt like I was being held back,
like something was stopping me from
moving to the next place on this journey.
Then, I met Fungai, and he told me of my father.
It was then that I realized that my father,
in his love for me, was protecting me.
He was stopping me.
That is when I asked Fungai to petition the ancestors
on my behalf, to ask my father to
let me go, to let me walk my path.
And, once again, my father who now had
sight beyond a mere mortal,
let me go.
He was right in trying to protect me.
The journey with Kundalini did bring me to my knees,
and dangled me on the edge of madness.
But, he was also right in letting me go.
This is the path I must walk.
And, I thank him again,
my father, the sage, my spirit guide,
Pastor Olaf Elmar Magis.
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