Are We the Answer to Our Prayers?

5 November 2010

Another night of powerful Kundalini energy,
  continued into my sleep.

Woke me in the middle of the night when
   it exploded out of my head.  
  There was a dream and a message.

'Create an intentional community of love.'

Over and over I heard this message.  
  My mind immediately started analyzing it, 
  exposing the many ways we humans have and 
  are trying to do that and the many more ways 
  we take it apart when we find it.  

Against our best intentions, 
  we can’t escape our humanness, 
  the fears that capture us and 
  the illusions we call rational thought.

But perhaps despite, or even because of, our falllibilities
  we can do this.

This community is not bound by geography or culture or religion.  
  It is bound by a singular commitment to 
  shining the light of love on the darkness.  
  It is worldwide.  

Imagine the light emanating from thousands of people
  on the darkness we ourselves have created…

We illuminate our own darkness…

El

14 November 2010

'No matter what happens on the outside,
  become quiet.
  You will find Me inside.

  Therein lies your abundance.

I AM ether, light, pure energy

I rush through trees, 

  spark out the branches, set the leaves on fire with my light.

I ignite inside your belly
  and burn til you look to me.

I will bring you madness and peace,
  that which you wish.
  Abundance
  Quiet

Feel me………………………..

I AM the energy in your hands, in the trees
I AM the slips of light that pass between your consciousness and dreams
I AM the voice that you seek.

I’ve been waiting for you.
  Stand here next to me and I will teach you.
  You will speak, you will understand.'

Powerful, unknowable entity.
  Teacher.
  Show me abundance.
  In love with the earth, but not bound to it, 

  pure beauty, radiance, breathing the breath of life.

New Blog to Get Away from Spammers

I have been getting hit with a growing amount of spam and whatever you call those invaders of peaceful space.  It has gotten quite irritating, so I am creating a new blog.  I will start posting on the new blog tomorrow.

You can find me at KristenMagisSoulEmbodied

Namaste to all fellow journeyers!

• Cailleach: Celtic Crone Goddess of Winter

• Cailleach: She Will Not Be Denied
• Cailleach's Wrath

My Friend, My Inspiration

My dear friend and sister rejoiced in telling me
  of her latest feat in eating 'on a dime'.
  She can make a complete meal for
  her boyfriend and herself for $2.80.

I was only able to accomplish that when
  I was living in Viet Nam where the
  cost of living is far below that of the US.

For the feat of eating in the most healthy way she can discover,
  I love my friend.

For the daily accomplishment of living in her car,
  I love my friend.

For getting up every day to face another challenge,
  I love my friend.

I rejoice in knowing her, in having the opportunity
  to share some small part of life with her,
  to learn from her the wisdom-born-of-poverty.

She inspires me to remember gratitude for
  all that I am fortunate to have, and to question
  whether I really, really need all that other stuff.

And, she makes me smile,
  deep in my soul.

I thank you, God, for Michelle.
  Bless her this night and all the nights
  to come.

Abundance Mindset

I'm contemplating the scarcity versus abundance mindsets.

If we believe in abundance, we are in concert with nature.
  For, nature is all about abundance!
  In fact, for nature to thrive, there must be abundance.

There must be abundance in diversity, or Requisite Variety.
  Put in human terms, we need people of all colors, races,
  politics, beliefs, experiences...to thrive as a species.

Also, there must be abundance in likeness, or Redundancy.
  Again, in human terms, we need people who have similar
  talents and gifts.  We need to offer them together,
  not in competition, but in co-operation and collaboration.

We become rich in the sharing of these gifts,
  both diverse and similar.  And never, never
  do the gifts of another detract from or devalue
  our own gifts!

Like love that expands exponentially as we love more,
  so too, the gifts we offer back to life multiply the benefits
  recieved by all, including ourselves.

So, look for diversity in the people around you.
  Celebrate, learn from, and support that diversity.
  Look for the similarity in the people around you.
  Celebrate, learn from, and support that similarity.

There is never too little, only more and more
  as we share of ourselves and accept the offering of others.

Namaste

Blessed by the Creator

Of the manifold gifts that my father gave to me,
  one that grows in significance as years pass
  is best described through a little story.

Around age 15, and in the full throes of
  differentiating my self from my parents,
  I threw out my chest and found my strongest voice.

Then, I marched up to my father,
  that gentle, wise, compassionate man.

Before I could be melted by his loving eyes,
  I boldly, and probably somewhat awkwardly,
  declared, 'I don't believe in God!'

Holding my breath and readying for a parlay,
  I awaited my father's response.
  He looked at me in one long moment.

Then, he smiled and said, 'OK.'
  That was it?!  Stunned, I turned to retreat.
  'OK?  OK???  OK???'

I had just denounced the single most important thing
  in my father's life, and all he said was, 'OK???'
  I don't remember how long it took me to recover
  from this most unexpected act of my sage/father.

But, keeping to form was critical at that stage of my development,
  so I regrouped and initiated a series of assaults on what
  I considered to be the fallibilities of religion and faith and God.

At every turn, my father listened carefully and responded with
  compassion, wisdom and love...and no small amount of patience!
  Through this journey, I learned so many things and traveled so far.

The lessons from this sojourn with my father some 40 years-ago
  stay with me today, shape my perspectives, fortify me with hope,
  and remind me that it is okay to question and challenge.

For, through that questioning and challenging,
  we delve into our souls to find the answers therein, to find God therein.
  All our lives, at any moment, this gift is ours to open.

And, it is given us with compassion, wisdom, love
  and all the patience in the universe.
  For our growth into self is a sacred journey,

one that is blessed by the Creator of all.

Caffeine Confusion

It was that second cup of coffee,
  the one I so wanted, but
  really didn't need!

Armed with caffeine-infused blood
  and sleep deprivation, I consider
  my options for this fall morning...

run several miles,
  feel the caffeine shake my body,
  endeavor to capture, on page, one of
  the many thoughts ripping through my brain,
  think about the homework I was gonna do
  but now can't sit long enough to approach...

It was that second cup of java.
  It's always that second cup of java.

Health and Homelessness...NOT

As the cold morning air vitalizes my sleepy mind,
  my body shivers, remembering the warmth of my bed and blanket.

So, after a steaming hot cup of coffee, I make a warm bowl of cereal.
  My body rejoices in the waking up, grateful for food, warmth and security.

And, then I remember my friend who is homeless.
  She woke up to a chill this morning as well, in the back of her van.

She has no source of heat to make coffee or warm cereal,
  and ironically, the food stamps do not purchase warmed food.

So, cold and stiff from another night slept in the back of her van,
  she is faced with a choice...eat something cold and uncooked or buy fastfood.

'Why fastfood?!'  I wonder.  'That's so unhealthy!'
  Yet, in my arrogance-born-of-plenty, I missed a fundamental fact.

The only way she can get warm food is to purchase it with her own money.
  And the only food she can afford to buy is dirt cheap, namely, fast food.

So, as I ate my warm, nutritious cereal and sipped on my Vietnamese java,
  my friend sat in a fastfood parking lot with her cholesteral-ridden, fatty,
  vitiamin-deficient breakfast meal and a cup of darkened water called coffee.

Lessons in Tidbits and Morsels

Feeling a bit lonely today, so thought to be with it a bit.

I relish alone time and have been 'unpartnered' nearly five years.
  It has been a rich, wonderous and incredibly fulfilling time.

And, though I love time with self, I also delight in community.
  I love being in relation with another, and with others.

Recently, I had an encounter with a soul mate.
  That experience reminded me about the dance of relationships.

I remembered that relationships are delicious and challenging,
  rife with opportunities to discover and grow and bear the growth pains!

Being in relation with another calls forth ones soul,
  surfaces lessons to learn and wounds to heal in ones self.

The relationship itself gains form and character through the
  interactions of the two, develops its own life, and requires care.

Because I migrate toward depth and significance in relationships,
  the experience with an other, by its very nature, will be intense.

For all these reasons, the call to engage the self with an other is momentous.
  So, for me to embrace that dance, it must be authentic and in-depth.

And, the loneliness?
  I remembered the world-wrapped-in-a-relationship feeling and,
  having briefly touched it once again,
  feel the loss of it.

Letting Go...With Grace

Spirit is walking me through an intensive
  on a very particular lesson, namely, how
  to gracefully let go of things not meant for me.

Opportunities for me to explore, practice and learn
  from this lesson have been manifold in my life of late,
  so much so that I feel like an undersized boxer in the ring
  with a leviathan who takes delight in using me as a bouncing ball.

I've moved diligently through my classic
  stages of response to this recent bout with Spirit, from

'OK, we're working this together,' to
  'Ummm, what am I missing?' to
  'OK, I'll push harder,' to
  'What is going on here?' to
  'OK, I'll try a new approach, a different perspective, a creative idea, any idea...' to
  'It's getting scary down here!' to
  'Damn you spirit!  I am gonna do this on my own!' to
  'I can't believe this is happening?!  ...and, I'm still pissed!' to
  'How far will this go?  OMG!  Is that the bottom approaching?'

And, Spirit doesn't let up.
  I like to think that Spirit keeps up the pressure
  because I can handle it, I'm up for this lesson, I won't crack.

But then, I did crack.
  For days, I couldn't get through a sentence
  without dissolving into tears.  The insults to my ego
  rushed in without pause, layering one upon the other
  so that, blood rushing into my eyes and head spinning,
  it was all I could do to simply stand.

And, through it all, these words resonated
  like cosmic background noise...
  'It matters how gracefully
  you let go of things
  not meant for you.'

So, with each hope thwarted, I endeavored
  to the best of my wavering ability to recognize
  and accept that 'it' wasn't meant for me,
  and then to let go of 'it'.

There are so many levels to this lesson...
  Recognizing when something really isn't meant for you..
  Accepting that it was not meant for you, just accepting.
  Staying close to the truth and not creating false storylines.
  Letting go of it...really, in all ways.
  Facing forward, free from attachments to it.

But, what if the 'its' that aren't for you pile up
  into a mountain over which you can no longer see?
  What if the pile of 'not meant for you's becomes so
  enormous that you are forced to ask an even deeper question?

But, let me put this into real terms before
  I dissolve into the abstractness of my own thoughts.

The real-life exemplar is me trying to find work.
  The 'it's are each of the many jobs for which I have applied
  this last year.  The 'not meant for you's are the rejection letters.

The mountains are, first, the pure volume of rejected applications.
  And secondly, they are the mounds of rejections from every sector,
  every level of every position, even from applications to volunteer.
  And, by the way, how does one get rejected as a volunteer?!

It has been nothing short of a complete 'shut out'.
  Isn't that what they call it in sports?  'No contest.'  'Out.'
  I should be careful with sports analogies.
  You get the point, though, right?

So, getting back to the 'being forced to ask a deeper question' thought..
  Perhaps the lesson surpasses that of letting go of individual incidents.
  Facing a total 'shut out', I wonder if I am missing a cardinal principle.
  So, I try to re-visualize the panoptic theme of this life-lesson...

  What, really, am I being asked to let go?

Perhaps, I'm not supposed to make a living with my doctorate.
  Perhaps, I'm supposed to work a noncareer job so that I can write.
  Perhaps, my skills aren't those desired in the marketplace.  That's a no-brainer.
  Perhaps, I'm not supposed to offer my working life to address humanitarian needs.
  Perhaps, I'm just supposed to be happy and it doesn't matter what I do for work.
  Perhaps, I'm supposed to experience homelessness and poverty and write about it.

And, then my understanding of the basic question evolves...
  What does it mean to 'let go'?
  How do I know if I really 'let go'?
  What does 'letting go' look like?
  How am I different when I've been successful at 'letting go'?

And in the middle of all this, Spirit ups-the-ante.
  Without warning, I meet a soulmate, on this plane?!
  And even as I become aware of this most incredible fact,
  I am reminded...

being soulmates does not mean
  that you will walk together in this life.
  And, if you do share some part of this journey,
  it doesn't dictate the particular path you will walk.

The soul is bound to the flesh,
  so our paths are created by our steps.
  Intentions we set prior to this incarnation
  are not predestined to manifest in a particular way.
  They are, quite simply, the pebble cast in the pond.

The outcome of our meeting is dependent,
  not on the hopes of our immortal selves,
  but on the decisions we make here, now.

So, I meet a soul mate and quickly learn
  that she does not feel the connection as do I,
  and that she desires, rather, to turn inward
  and be with those dear ones already in her life.

And, I am asked once again to accept that walking with
  this soulmate is 'not meant for me.'  I'm asked to 'let go'.
  And, putting the proverbial 'icing on the cake',
  I am asked to 'let go with grace'.

Up to now, assimilating the 'letting go' lesson has been difficult.
  But this particular iteration of learning has come with a surprising twist.
  It has been incredibly powerful, awesome, inspiring and uplifting.

Something clicked as I watched this soulmate walking away.
  It was a deep understanding that some things,
  some people, really aren't meant for me.
  Trying to forcefit them destroys beauty,
  creates harm, and never ever works.

Letting go, on the other hand,
  allows you to recognize and relish
  the gifts that really are offered in that moment.

The exquisite gift of meeting a soulmate in this life IS for me.
  Feeling the profound and ageless love for a soulmate IS for me.
  Knowing that she is out there and being able to bless her walk IS for me.

And then there's the grace in letting go.
  That's a whole other aspect of the lesson
  Spirit is asking me to absorb into my being.

And then there is transforming the letting go into a act of grace.
  To act with an elegance, a gentleness, a compassionate heart,
  and a 'go with God' frame of mind.
  One is asked to love even as one accepts what is not meant to be.

So, I still have no job or income.
  And, the soulmate I only just met is not here.
  But, I believe I am starting to get this lesson.
  And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Until Just Recently

She came to me in a vision.
  Out of the mist, she stepped into my dreamstate.
  She stood my height, dark hair cut just below her ears.
  She had a strong presence and a gentle, compassionate spirit.

As soon as I saw her,  I knew
  we were to be together.  She knew too.
  It was a moment filled with awe, thankfulness
  for finally meeting again in this life, and saddness.

Through tears and sorrow she said, 'Please wait for me.'
  'I have waited a lifetime to be together.  But to come to you,
  I must first say "good-bye" to another.  Please wait for me,' she cried.

Without hesitation, I agreed to wait.
  Witnessing the honest and compassionate way that
  she held her lover, I felt a profound honor for her spirit.
  And as she stepped back into the mist, I felt God's smile.

That was July of this summer.
  The time was imminent, but not immediate.
  So, I lived my life and eventually forgot of our meeting,
  until just recently.

Step in When I Fall

Of my many fallibilities,
  I doubt, in the end,
  I'll be faulted for not trying hard enough.

The dents and bruises on my head
  attest to the persistent and sometimes
  bullheaded endeavors to 'get it right' or
  'make my life work'.

And for one who endeavors so hard
  to 'blaze the trail', 'find my way',
  'be a responsible co-creator'...

to hear the words, 'You are trying too hard.'
  is tantamount to saying, 'Don't be you.'

Coughing, sputtering, building the line of defense...
  spitting it out...'But, it is my responsibility!'
  'I'm supposed to care for myself.'
  'I can find my way!'
  'I will do it!'

Caught in the whirlwind of my own making,
  I, the whirling dervish, spin and push and spin faster.
  Bleeding, I wipe the blood from my eyes
  and push harder with deeper commitment...

until, inevitably, I crash.
  For one can hold that energy for only so long.

And then, I find my self in the oh-so-familiar-place
  of a substance less all its vital organs and structures,
  amoebic, heaped into a mass of misdirected intention.

And finally, I say, 'OK, I give.  Perhaps, it is not for me to decide.'
  'Perhaps, I need to hand it over, to release, to let go, to allow.'

And, I hope that spirit will take that invite quickly,
  for I am practiced at getting up from that place
  and pushing forward when I need to lie still.

Catch me, Spirit.
  Show me what I can not see.

The Wise Crone

I am amused by this self.
  53 years and so much seeking, witnessing, learning.
  Yet still, I tread old paths...the ones I KNOW don't work.

And, I set foot upon them at exactly the moment
  when I am asked to reset my direction, alter my true north.
  Is this the human experience, or am I just an incredibly slow learner?

I have a vision of my self as an elder woman, the crone.
  I sit, wrapped in a shawl, upon my rocking chair.
  The chair's voice, creaky as my own, sings
  into the melting day.

I hear a laugh or remember a tear.
  So, I turn my head and glance over my shoulder.
  In the beyond, I see one of the many moments lived.

And, in the witnessing, I am at peace, content, happy.

For I know that, despite the agony or exhilaration of that moment,
  I lived it to the best of my ability...with all that I had...
  in the fullest expression of me.

When I am challenged by life to take another uncertain step,
  I visualize this wise old crone.  She inspires me to search within
  to find the most that I am and to courageously step into the unknown.

My gait is awkward and I get tangled up in my best intentions,
  but I step forward knowing that the wise old crone is smiling and saying,
  'She is doing her best.  And, it's not quite as serious as she thinks it all is!'

Faith

If I were to re-open myself to you, great Spirit,
  what would you say to me?

In my fear, I stepped away - once again - from You.
  I thought to take on my own life,
  not trusting that Your hand moved.

So hard have I been fighting, pushing...
  Again, I find myself, bloodied forehead,
  tears streaking the ink on my paper.

Faith, so very difficult
  at precisely the moment
  I need it most.

Namaste Nigeria!

Hello to fellow journeyers from Nigeria!
I'm so glad to meet you in this space.
Namaste to you
I see you
I honor you

Relationships

I am amused
  when two people say
  they want to start a relationship.

For me, the relationship
  started upon first contact,
  and even prior to their awareness.

Each decision thereafter
  is, for me, an evolution of the
  relationship already underway.

Finding the Words

Usually it comes so easily.
  The words just flow.

But, this thought has not yet
  formed well on paper,
  so I need to try once again.

The thought that evades my attempts
  at description is also the experience
  that eludes my understanding.

It is the experience of knowing
  and not knowing, simultaneously.

It is witnessing my soul and my person respond
  in totally different ways to the same situation,
  simultaneoulsy.

It is sensing the profound wisdom of my soul
  even as I watch my self plunge into confusion,
  simultaneously.

Yes, that's it.
  It is the separate and unique,
  yet indivisible nature of the soul and the person;
  each with a voice and a choice,
  yet both, one.

It's really an incredible dance to witness.
  I am amazed and enthralled,
  excited to watch, and frustrated
  with the extent and limits of my 'knowing'.

So, there's this moment in time when my spirit
  shares with me a 'knowing', like an alert
  to pay attention.

This is the moment when the distinction
  between my person and my spirit
  becomes evident.

My person reacts to the new situation
  with big emotions, classic.
  These emotions are often out-of-sync,
  occurring prior to the event itself and
  with a seemingly undue force.

Then spirit speaks, and I see 'it' all with such clarity.
  That's the moment when I feel suspended in time and space.
  I 'know', I can see 'it'...All.

Yet, even as I encounter the All,
  my person is grappling with the big emotions
  and dancing to the music playing on her heart.

And as my person engages in the dance,
  my 'knowing' dissipates as my spirit
  steps back to watch 'it' unfold.

I am relishing this incredible moment
  when I can see 'it' All, and am fascinated
  to watch it fade from view.

I am aware that the 'knowing' must give way
  to allow the experience.

I am excited and enthralled by what lies ahead,
  and feeling bound once again to this mortal,
  yet entirely spiritual, experience.

The Bugaboo with Gnosis

Funny thing about gnosis...
  You know, but you don't know.

The magic in gnosis is knowing without the learning.
  The challenge lies in dealing with the 'knowing'.

Usually, we learn our way
  into those things we are to know.

The path to our knowing is littered with
  inspiration, failed attempts and
  occasional ephiphanies.

It is the journey on this path that gives us time
  to move through the emotional and psychological
  changes necessary to assimilate the new knowledge.

Skipping this step is what gives rise to the bugaboo with gnosis.
  The, 'Yeah! I don't have to learn my way to this!' elation
  is immediately followed by the disquieting realization that,
  'I have no idea how to live in this?!'

So it goes.
  There is no fast road to wisdom.
  We must walk through life's experiences
  to become one with the lessons it offers.

So, even when we are gifted with gnosis,
  we find ourselves just a few paces ahead
  of where we might have started on our own.

Only now, we live in the strange world of
  simultaneously knowing 'it'
  and having no idea how to live 'it'.

Wisdom Embodied

The awkward walk of a wise soul with a bumbling human.

That's the title of my life,
  the music filling the background
  of the stage on which I play.

That soul is wisdom, grace, and beauty.
  And it selected me, little me,
  to walk with in this life.

I am awkward in my movements,
  fall when attempting to walk,
  subvert my self in my reach to forever,
  seek refuge in worn-out stories,
  prefer the dark to the light...

Yet, my soul remains,
  ever vigilant in its encouragement,
  always watchful of my journey,
  until the end, my companion.

For as deficient as my attempts to live,
  or my understanding of how to be,
  my soul needs me.

The very struggles that bring me to my knees,
  the tears that burn my cheeks,
  the joy that fills my heart...

all these humble attempts to be human
  gift my soul with the lessons it
  embodied to experience.

So, next I see you,
  and when inevitably
  I trip...

Please know that
  somewhere inside this bumbling human
  laughs a magnificent soul!

I Love You I Love You I Love You

I love you! I love you! I love you!
  Say it.  Just say it!

Look into her eyes,
  and say it.

Hold his hand,
  and sing it.

Pick up the chid,
  and show it.

Embrace your father,
  and know it.

I love you, I love you, I love you

Turn in to yourself,
  and believe it.

Say it, sing it, show it, know it,
  Belive it...

Love
  is alive
  is you
  is possible
  is here, now

No matter the situation,
  how vile or terrible or hopeless

Beyond our fears, our doubts, our pain,
  Love, love, love

Feel it, allow it, be it

See the one you hate,
  the one you don't know,
  the one you hurt,

and know, she, he, they
  are love.

Your essence, the stuff of which you are made,
  the source from which you come,
  is love.

Say it, sing it, show it, know it,
  Believe it...

The Source and the Song

I had a sense the other day
  of being suspended in time.

I felt connected to the source,
  momentarily unhindered by my person.

I felt a flood of knowing
  rush through my being.

I could see into the soul
  of the person I had only just met.

I knew that soul, was grateful
  for finally connecting with her in this life.

And, I knew we had planned this,
  had arranged to meet just now.

The reason for our meeting, I do not know,
  only that our meeting was the invitation.

Suddenly, I flashed back to the moments
  just prior to birthing into this life.

In those moments, I knew why I chose
  to come here and what I planned to learn.

As I made my entrance into this world
  I remember forgetting it all.

For, I was not to know what lay before me.
  The journey was the reason I came.

The mystery that is this life
  would be revealed to me only as I walked.

Likewise, I know that the purpose for our meeting
  will only be revealed if we chose to step into the mystery.

I know the soul, yet have only just met the person.
  The mystery awaits.  Dare we find the song?

Precious Moments

Last night, I slept little
  due in part to the effects of perimenopause,
  but also to the wanderings of my mind through
  the landscape of life as it is now presents itself.

In those wanderings, I came upon an
  exquisite feeling and the realization
  that I had experienced another
  precious moment.

In the re-living of that moment, I examined
 how the ordinary was transformed
  into the extra-ordinary.
  And, this is what I saw.

I was at ease, comfortable almost immediately.
  I fell into the conversation quickly and found
  myself engaged at the level of 'real'.

I laughed and interacted as if with a long-time friend.
  There was a connect between we two
  that surpassed the persons sharing that moment.

Time collapsed into a smile, a comment, a thought.
  So alive was I in that moment that I cannot
  recall the others sharing that space with us.

In the blink of an eye, it was over, yet nigh two hours had passed.
  People, sounds, smells, time...all came back into focus.
  And, I remembered that I was just now meeting this person
  with whom I had shared this extraordinary moment!

So, I re-entered that other reality, dazed, smiling,
  grateful for that moment,
  that extra-ordinary moment.

In a life filled with so many moments ranging
  from blah to excruciatingly painful,
  extra-ordinary moments are a gift.

They often come to us without notice,
  are cloaked in the ordinary,
  and slip by in the everpresent
  pull of time on these mortal bodies.

But, their memory persists and reminds us
  that precious moments are possible,
  are there for each of us,
  are, quite simply, gifts.

All we need do is
  be open to them,
  learn to recognize them,
  enjoy them, and
  revel in the magic.

And then, be grateful
  for this gentle reminder
  that this life really is
  precious.

Depress the Mind, Suppress the Will, Address the Soul

A depression is trying to settle in
  fogging my brain
  slowing my motion

It wants me sit, lay down,
  stop thinking,
  stop trying to
  figure it all out.

Just be
  Don't talk to anyone
  Don't do your work

Sleep, dream, be quiet

Alone is best
  a crowd is fine
  annoymity is safety

Can't figure it out
  can't engage my brain
  no jump starts

Don't care
  Don't want to figure it out

Dull, quiet, resting

Tears ever present
  threaten to burst
  through the tightly held,
  but fragile veil

To keep them at bay
  don't interact
  just stay quiet
  don't think
  don't do

just rest and be

My soul needs time
  attention
  is requiring me
  to turn
  inward

The Collision...or is it Collusion... of Ironies

The irony of my trip to the food stamp office today
  does not elude me.

How is it that a woman with two advanced degrees
  and 20 years experience finds herself on
  this particular errand?

Nor does the fact that,
  on my journey to this next assault on my ego,
  I got lost in a neighborhood lined with golden-red trees
  standing sentry to the million-dollar homes
  tucked amidst ornamental lawns.

 The food stamp worker was distracted,
  so I asked if he was bored.
  He smiled and said he was thinking
  about grocery shopping.

The irony here also didn't elude me.

So I sat, holding back the seemingly unending
  deluge of tears, waiting for the next worker
  to bring me a card - a food stamp card.

Now, I will wait for another week or two to
  find out if I qualify.

What, I think, does a family without food
  or means of getting food,
  do during this wait period?

Are they the ones standing on the street corners
  with cardboard 'Please help me' signs?

Or, are they at work and school,
  trying to ignore the hunger pains and
  hoping noone hears the incessant growling
  of a stomach filled only with emptiness?

Life Spiraling

The corkscrew

I see this corkscrew
  winding up and down.

It is solid in that it
  is ever present, and
  winds only up and down.

The essence of this corkscrew?

It is the core of me,
  not the spirit from which I was born
  for nothing can contain that spirit.

No, the 'me' to which I refer
  is the being into which I chose
  to be born...the one named Kristen.

The core of me contains the lessons
  and questions and gifts I brought to this life.
  The core of me is the reason I am here.

And corkscrews, as you know, are spirals.
  Turning them, they move up and down,
  because, you see, life is a spiral.

Life is not linear.  That sense of linearity is merely
  an illusion caused by the pull of gravity upon this flesh.
  No, energy and life moves in spirals.

And that is how I experience my self in this life.
  New situations, encounters with new people,
  alight in me familiar responses, feelings, struggles...

And, when I catch a breath from living
  that particular moment, I recognize
  once again

the core of me is present,
  endeavoring to learn, to understand,
  to heal, to reach out and forward...upward.

Sometimes, I move upward on that spiral,
  feeling the joy of having learned or healed
  in some small, but significant way.

Other times, I slide down the spiral.
  Sometimes, I dangle precariously from the end,
  crying out in pain as my strength to hold on diminishes.

Funny thing is, even when, or especially when,
  my strength gave way and I felt myself falling into the abyss,
  I never did.

I was always securely held, loved.
  Even the falling is part of this experience of life.
  And, it is not the end, no matter how horrible
  it feels in the moment.

It is, rather I believe, me slipping downward on the corkscrew.
  And, tomorrow, I will slip up again.

Despair doesn't last forever,
  and neither does happiness,
  for they are both merely emotions.

Joy however, as my father said,
  lasts forever, surpasses all things human,
  holds us steady through all
  and greets us when at last
  we emerge from the spiral
  that is this particular life.

Here and Back, Again

I had this image upon waking
  of a corkscrew.

As I travel through this life,
  I bring with me the core elements
  of me.

Like a corkscrew, the core of me
  winds its way into various situations
  no matter where I am
  no matter what is happening
  no matter what age I am

There is the core,
  solid as energy can be
  everpresent
  at the center
  of my experience.

The energy that is me
  flows up and down
  that corkscrew,
  lingering now
  in this moment
  and flowing once again
  into another.

There is only one way
  that the energy that is me
  will leave this corkscrew...
  through the top.

One day, I will be finished
  with the work I've come to complete
  and my energy will move effortlessly
  up the corkscrew and gently
  flow out of the tip.

If you are watching,
  you'll see a spray
  of sparkles, dancing lightly
  before dissolving into the ether.

But, I won't be gone.
  I will be the pure energy
  from which I...and you...
  emerged.

And, I will be deciding
  the next journey
  on which to embark
  to unravel yet another
  experience and lesson for this soul.

Smiling

I am so amazed!
  So many readers on this blog from all over the world?!
  And now, new readers from Belarus and Kazakhstan?!

Yes, the internet is the means through which we find each other.
  But, I'm feeling that it is spirit who calls us together...

Spirit, for which we have thousands of names
  and even more interpretations...

but which calls all hearts and souls
  inspires in humankind a need to search
  challenges us to think/imagine beyond
  welcomes all, celebrates difference
  smiles in compassion

says, 'Yes' to us all

Belarus and Kazakhstan AND Nigeria!

Namaste!

I welcome readers from Belarus and Kazakhstan and most recently, Nigeria, to this little community.  Peace to you all!

Columbia, Bulgaria, Malaysia, Ukraine, Thailand, South Korea, the UK,
Germany, Viet Nam, Denmark, Russia, Brazil, Taiwan, Philippines, Hungary, Latvia,
the Netherlands, Denmark, the US, Norway, Israel, Australia, India, France,
Indonesia, Sweden, China, Egypt, Singapore, Tunisia, Guatemala, Puerto Rico,
South Africa, Chile, the Czech Republic, Hong Kong, Spain, Canada,
Portugal, Argentina, Morocco, Qatar, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Nigeria

Words and Meanings

Perhaps you wonder why I use the feminine pronoun as a matter of course.
  It's not that I don't like men.  Some of my favorite people are men.
  It's also not that I'm gay, or even that I'm a woman.

It IS that as a writer, I can see the values tucked into words and phrases and idioms.
  I know that these values are passed from one generation to the next,
  shaping the minds and hearts of countless children, and yes, adults.

And, I don't always agree with the mind-shaping or its consequences.

So, why do we presume that the masculine pronoun must be the norm?
  What values underlie that presumption?
  I assert that values do, in fact, underlie this presumption.

Norming the masculine is not just a way to make writing or reading easier.
  If that were truly the case, then why not just norm the use of the feminine pronoun?
  Why the emotional reaction to that?

Thing is, we tend not to have emotional reactions to grammatical rules.
  Rather, we respond emotionally to issues that are infused with values.
  Hence, my assertion that this is a question of values.

As a writer, I have a responsibility to be transparent regarding my values.
  So, I'll share them.

I believe
  that norming the masculine pronoun reinforces the deeply sexist culture
     embedded within American society,
  that the seemingly rationale arguments for its continued use are really
    methods to legitimate and reinforce that prejudice.
  that this practice is just one example of how words hurt people,
    the objects of the prejudice - in this case women,
    the purveyors of the prejudice,
    the unwitting assimilators of the prejudice...

Words are always infused with values.
  What are our values?
  What is our responsibility regarding those values?
  What kind of world are we trying to shape with those values?

All these questions weigh on my mind.

So, my use of the feminine is for these purposes...
  It is to acknowledge and honor the feminine.
  It is to change the flavor and the tone and the experience
    one has in reading about particular feelings or thoughts.
  It is to debunk notions of what women can and can't do.
  It is to add the unique perspective of the feminine
    to the diverse and wonderful world of thought.
  It is to remind us that words both shape and carry
    culture, values, beliefs and traditions.

And, it is to focus our consciousness on how our
  values and words create this world.

The Nexus

'So what,' you ask, 'are your specific concerns?'
  'What is it that eats at you today?'

But see, I really don't think the specifics matter.
  I think, what really matters is the struggle
  of the material embodying the eternal.

I believe we each craft our own storyline
  to gift us with opportunities to learn
  those things we wish to learn in this life.

Naturally then, the storylines of any two people
  will be quite different, unique to those people.
  So, the specific context, the particular storyline
  is not, for me, the headline.

No, what really matters is that
  my/your heart hurts
  my/your mind gets confused
  my/your spirit grows tired

Those things you all know, right?
  No matter your particular story,
  you can relate to the pain,
  the confusion, the exhaustion.

This is where spirit asks me to live,
  in the space where material and eternal touch,
  in the middle of this turmoil called life.

My particular life circumstances are of benefit
  only insofar as they help to portray the message
  spirit asks me to convey.

That is why, at least for today,
  I choose to stay focused on
  the experience of 'it' all,
  the nexus of material/spiritual.

Things Not Meant for You

Threre is a saying,

In the end, only three things matter,

how much you loved,

how gently you lived, and

how gracefully you let go of

things not meant for you.

Funny, I should come upon this quote just now.
  Asked once again to reflect.
  And the level of emotive clash
  going on inside me tells me
  that these words are for me - now.

So,
  reticently casting off my favored
  'woe-is-me' mask,
  I look inside.

'Things not meant for you...'
  Things not meant for me,
  I can count so many,
  just in the last months.

'But, you are searching in the wrong tote!' she says.
  Logically, if I'm searching in the wrong tote,
  what I find therein will not be what I'm looking for.
  And perhaps, I will find what's not meant for me.

So life, spirit, asks me to let go,
  and not just that, but to let go gracefully.
  A high order for one sitting yet again
  among the shards of hope shattered.

Yet, I wonder...
  If I was looking in the proverbial 'right tote',
  would I then find what, indeed, was meant for me?

The danger here, and I can see it coming,
  is engaging my mind in this process.
  Already, it strives to apply logic
  to a question of spirit.

Already, it is wrapping itself in a tangle
  of self deception cloaked as reason.
  Already, it is confused and frustrated...

So, to spirit I turn
  into my heart I fall
  letting go
  opening up

Believing, hoping
  I can find the prescience to know
  what 'was not meant for me',
  and the grace to let it go.

Praying
  the 'right tote' will be presented,
  I will be given the foresight to recognize it,
  and the wisdom to treat whatever I find within
  as the sacred gift it is.

Pause

Dark
Angry

Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody in here?

No, just the black emptiness

Floating in the void.
  Nice thing about voids,
  there is nothing there...

You laugh
  But really...

The struggles, the trials
  and errors,
  the time that so incessantly
  slips away,
  the noise from the
  eternal battles with self,
  the cacophony of insanity
  called 'civilization'

all melt into nothingness
  and quiet

Even my anger fades
  my self pity
  my fears

Not such a bad place to be
  at least for a moment
  so I can release my breath
  let go the energy broiling in my body
  stop the struggle

Pause

Wind Up Toy

So...just...let go?  That's it?
  How easy does that seem to you?
  Cuz it doesn't sound easy to me.

Why do these 'wise' words always
  have to be such puzzles?
  Why can't they come in
  simple-to-understand terms
  rather than codes and images
  that I am loath to dissect?

Perhaps, I confuse a Jester
  for a Crone/Sage.

Perhaps, you laugh merrily
  at the solemn approach,
  that weary eyes,
  the outreached heart.

Perhaps, it's all a joke to you.
  And so you turn again the key
  on the wind-up-human toy
  and watch in glee

as she marches around
  in circles
  till her head spins
  and she falls

or simply just
  runs out of juice.

'No matter,' say you.
  'I can just wind her up again.'

'No matter,' say I.
  'Nothing matters, really,
  does it?'

Measure Not

Measure not another's behavior from your own stead
  For she walks not your path, but hers
  And her steps follow the voice inside

If you cannot hear the voice inside her
  how can you measure her steps?

Open, Hold on to Nothing

'Open up, hold on to nothing.'

'Nothing?'

'Nothing.'

'My security, my home?'

'Nothing'

'My hopes?'

'Nothing'

'My fears, my humiliation?'

'Let go'

'My joy?'

'Let go'

'My...?'

'Let loose, all of it'

'Me?  Let go of me?'

'Let go'

'Let go of me?'

'Let go'

...

'Open, stay open'

Freed of all material artifacts
  left only with the body holding the soul
  my chest opening
  letting go my soul
  a light shining forth

The light shines through the universe
  envelopes the dark

Reaches out to touch
  watches

Reaches out to touch again
  watches

Reaches in all directions
  touching
  watching

And then one touch
  kindles a light
  shining brightly
  inviting, dancing, rejoicing
  at the match found
  the dance begun
  the mystery opening

'No need to struggle.
  Don't hold on.
  Holding on, you forget
  to reach out and touch,
  you don't see a light
  shining back at you,
  you miss when another
  touches you and your own light
  bursts forth, rejoicing at the connection'

'Open, let go, touch, watch
  let go, let be'

Gossamer

Gossamer
  This is the substance of the wisdom I seek

Barely perceptible,
  I gaze through it without seeing it

Of substance and yet intangible
  Fading in and out like a boat far offshore

Defying my senses,
  luring me to a dimension
  unbound
  by the material

Spirit, Material, Spirit, Spirit, Spirit

Sometimes, this reality feels so dense.

Like the balance between formed and unformed is off.
  Like the material is crowding out the potential.

The material boggs me down, slows my motion, obstructs my vision;
  conspires to obliterate my knowing, my connection to the REAL.

Spinning, spinning, faster and faster to shake loose the weight of the material.
  To disembody the energy, to welcome back pure being.

Witnessing the material blurr into a primordial mass, lose its meaning.
  Feeling gravity dissolve, setting loose its grip on my feet.

Sensing light all round, melting material back into potential.
  Feeling again the freedom to breath, to soar, to know...

But not needing any of it.

The Name is Zoe!

'I've been trying to tell you,
  this is my name!'

'No, it's not the one my mother gave me.
  It's the one I gave myself.'

'Why?'

'Because it reflects me,
  who I am
  how I feel
  but more...'

'It reminds me of the part
  of self that I repress,
  hold back, judge...'

'It is my dancer, my singer,
  my creative spirit
  my longing to be
  inside music, art, dance,
  beauty'

'Yes, to be inside it,
  feeling it wash around me,
  feeling it lift me off my feet
  and free my spirit to fly.'

'That's Zoe.
  That's me.'

'Can you see her?
  Me?'

A quick note.
Google is making some major changes and I am UN-Tech Savy enough to not understand them!
If, perchance, these changes somehow make this blog disappear, look for me elsewhere in cyberland.  I'll build a new blog.  Only this time, I will not include the extra 'e' in my name!
Namaste!

Are You Ready? I am Waiting.

OK, I have a confession.
  I have been really pissed of late.
  I got so pissed that I shut out Spirit.

I put on my worn and tattered coat-of-armor.
  This coat-of-armor is so much a part of me
   that it has its own name,

'I will get myself through this...damn it!'

Funny I didn't feel the breeze
  through the many holes and tears
  in that age-old and thrice mended coat.

I know that it really isn't a coat-of-armor.
  It is me hiding, pushing out my chest,
  believing that I am alone in all 'this'
  and it is up to me alone to get
  myself through 'it'.

The purpose, still, feels so right.
  'How,' I wonder, 'can wanting a job
  be a bad thing?  Is it strange to want work
  that pays a living wage and medical coverage?'

Yet, all my efforts and education and experience
  bear no fruit.  And, I awaken one day to see
  that I am rummaging through totes that
  I already emptied, all to no avail.

And now, my friends, I will share
  the truth of why I haven't been writing.

I have been ashamed to admit that I am
  in this place, once again, after witnessing the
  wisdom that Spirit channels through my fingers.

I guess I hold hope that these gifts of Spirit
  would soak through my coat-of-armor
  and change forever my fallibilities.

But, I remind myself...it is a process,
  yes, a journey.  And I am on the path.

The gifts of Spirit are still here, available
  for me when I am ready to receive them.

So, Spirit asks once again and forever,
  'Are you ready?  I am waiting.'

Called Inside, Once Again

'You're looking in the wrong tote,' she said.
  Tears alight in her blue eyes,
  'You have worked so hard going through those totes.'

I know.

My fingers are sore from the search.
  I have gone through each tote,
  dug so deep into each one,
  and now realize that
  I'm going through them again.

Did I, at some point,
  put everything back into them
  without even realizing it?

The growing awareness of
  'I've been here.  I've seen this.'
  But, nevertheless, drawing forth
  that which already has proven fruitless,
  painting on it a new facade,
  and sending it out to the world
  hoping,
  always hoping,
  it will bring home
  a different response.

Tired,
  No, exhausted,
  from the search.

'It's in the blue tote.'
  'You put it in the blue tote
  and forgot about it,' she says.

Blue tote?
  What the hell is the blue tote?
  Where is it?
  I have been searching,
  sometimes frantically,
  through all my totes!

I have pulled out and examined
  absolutely every skill and piece of knowledge
  I could remembr,
  every kind of work I've done,
  every strategy I've ever devised...

Yet, somehow I missed this blue tote.

What is it, this blue tote?
  And what treasure does it hide from me?

'Are you ready to see it now?' gentle, loving eyes implore.
  'Can you close the other totes?
  'Are you willing, finally, to let go the search?'

Spirit Walk: Journey of a Soul Embodied now available!

My book is now available! 


You can direct order it from CreateSpace today or from Amazon in another week. 

Here's the URL for CreateSpace.
https://www.createspace.com/4255828

My Book is soon to be on sale through Amazon!

I've been putting all my effort into finishing this book!  Now that it is almost out, I have time to start writing new stuff again!  My best to you all!

The Compassion

Silence has been filling my heart of late.
  Not a peaceful silence, no.
  A roaring, angry silence.

I don't feel therein the familiar
  tendrils of self doubt or discouragement.
  It just feels as pure anger, pissed off.

Another, usually wiser, part of me knows
  that anger is not a core emotion.
  It is not pure in substance or form.

Rather, it is a cloak, a shield, a dagger
  to turn outward when looking inward
  is too painful.

Yes, I know that.

Yet, sometimes I linger in the
  raw, bleak, cold fusion of
  bitterness, resentment and petulance.

It's an escape for me.
  While I linger in this space,
  I don't have to take responsibility.

I can build the rationale and justification for
  not moving forward, not accepting life
  as it comes to me, not living into my all.

And now, as I remember all this,
  I smile.
  For, I do want to step forward.

I do want to live fully in this life.
  I can accept responsibility for myself.
  I can take another step into the great mystery.

And, another silence fills my heart.
  This silence is different than the first.
  It is peaceful and hopeful.  It is love.

It melts the anger, soothes my pain,
  surrounds me with compassion,
  lights the path forward for my next step.

the unnameable, the animating force

Sometimes, the feeling of gratitude is so immense
  I feel I will simply melt into the stars.

The gifts of Spirit are so rich, shared with such elegance,
  and offered without expectation of recompense.

Gifted simply because

So, I fall to my knees,
  tears glistening on my cheeks,
  the grace of God filling my heart,
  the sense of awe opening my soul
  to the ALL that is.

Thank you, Great Spirit, Creator, God
  whatever your name is or isn't
  whatever space your fill or create

thank you.

Gaia, Hear Me

'Who are you, really?' Gaia queries.
  And, why are you here?'

'I want so much to be real,' I start.
  'I have lines and curves, a face and a name.
  A faint memory whispers to me,
  I AM.'

'Yet, I chose to come here.
  And, the currents that are life
  wash around me, throw me off balance,
  turn me upside down.'

'So, when finally I face the sky and
  fill my lungs with the precious chi,
  I have forgotten who I AM.'

'Then, I struggle, and I cry, and I scream
  to the empty sky,
  Who AM I?!'

'Am I real?  Have I value?  Does my worth
  surpass all the sorrow, the disappointment,
  the anger that fills my heart?'

'Can the love from which I was birthed
  rescue me from the dark corners of my soul?!'

'The answer, my child,' smiles Gaia, 'is yes.'

'Remember, you chose to come into this form,
  the form you see in the mirror, the form you see
  reflected back to you in the eyes of another.'

'Quiet yourself, find stillness.
  Hear the whisper of the wind.
  Feel the cool waters on your feet.'

'Remember.
  Remember who you really are.
  Remember why you came here.
  Know that everything is as it should be.'

'Know that you are the glory of the Creator,
  manifest here, now.
  You are a gift.
  You are love incarnate.'

'The pain, the challenges, the questions,
  come to you as sacred offerings,
  as gifts given for your ascension,
  as the hints to help you remember,
  as the soil from which you can grow

to fulfill the promise of who you are.

Wisdom of the Moss

Watching now, the moss in the stream.
  So lithely, gracefully, it dances with the current.
  Creating art with sun and shadow and its soft green tendrils.

It hangs on, yes, hangs on for dear life.
  The currents flow around and through it,
  turning it this way and that, shaping it, forming it
  in ways it could never have imagined,
  in ways it might never have wanted,
  changing it, always.

And yet,
  creating the space and conditions
  that give it life,
  through which it can find and be
  its authentic self, know its true nature,
  live in its truth.

So, in life.
  The currents pulling, shaping, tugging,
  stretching always,
  challenging us to remember who we are,
  asking us to live authentically,
  and gifting us with the experiences and
  the people and the moments
  that offer the opportunity
  to know, to remember,
  to experiment, to be

who we really are

and to know, to remember,
  to experiment, to be

why we came here.

Grandmother Tree

'I am Grandmother.'

'I lived many moons in this tree
  and now it has fallen to its rest.'

'But, I am here still,
  breathing life into the seed
  held by mother earth,
  sparking the energy that flows
  from root to stars,
  blessing the fragile bud, and
  laughing in glee as it bursts forth
  in the song of blossom.'

'I am tender hearted and strong.
  I am here, forever, with you.'

'Walk in my path.
  Find shade beneath my branches.
  Feast on my fruit.
  Touch the sky from my limbs.'

'I come to you in grace
  as a conduit between mother earth,
  father sky and infinity beyond.'

'Breath the air from my lungs.
  Feel the cool soil beneath my bough.
  Know that you are loved, always.'

Tender Strength

A tree stood tall and proud, swaying gently with the wind.
  It had taken root in the remains of an old-growth tree.
  Hugging its mother with roots, supple and granite hard.
  Holding fast to its perch six feet off the ground.

I asked, 'Tree, how do I live in my strength?'

She replied, 'I am strong.  I do not hide my strength.
  I stand in my strength.
  To cower would not be authentic.'

'How,' I asked, 'do you honor others and be strong
  at the same time?'

'Listen to me,' she said.
  'I am quiet.
  I reach ever toward the Creator.
  And, I stay firmly planted in this earth.'

'My arms spread out in joy and gratitude,
  giving thanks...always.'

'I am vital, bursting forth with life.
  Yet, I know always that I grow strong
  because of my mother.'

'She gave me nourishment and shelter.
  She held me up to the Creator even as
  she slipped through the veil to her next beginning.'

'I am forever grateful.
  So, I stand in my strength.
  I breath in and I breath out.
  I give whisper to the wind, and
  sprinkle to the rain.'

Spiritual Poverty

It occurs to me that I can't explore material poverty
  without also contemplating spiritual poverty.

In fact, I wonder...
  Would material poverty even exist
  in a world of spiritual wealth???

For All

http://youtu.be/hlVBg7_08n0

Being Gay in Russia

I am deeply saddened to hear of the vicious attacks against gay people in Russia.

Though, I personally relate to this particular form of oppression,
  oppression of any kind is a malicious assault on life.

I grieve for those who fear for their lives and families.
  I pray for their safety and send them my love.

And, I grieve for those perpetuating this
  horrible violence against humanity.
  For they must live inside darkened hearts,
  and fear that the very hate they live toward others
  might be turned against themselves.

After all, hate is an equal opportunity scourge.
  It will happily direct is enmity to anyone, anywhere
  for any reason.

We just need request its presence
  and it springs forth in full anticipation
  of destruction and death.

I call now to all the gods and deities and spirits
  that watch over the soul of humanity.
  Please envelop us all - oppressors and oppressed alike -
  in a blanket of love and compassion.

Show us the sacredness of the one standing
  directly in front of us.
  Release us from the grip of hate and fear.
  Teach us that difference and diversity
  are essential to life.

Show us how to celebrate difference,
  how to see ourselves in another,
  how to teach our children to love.

For, it is love that is our saving grace.
  It is love that binds us all.
  It is love, only love.

Life on the Streets

There are so many 'catch-22s' when you are poor.

My friend is trying to start a business.
  This business can pull her out of poverty.
  But, she doesn't have the start up funds
  to buy the supplies to make the products.

So, we found a nonprofit that does micro loans.
  This seemed an incredible opportunity!
  Then, we learned that to qualify for the micro loan,
  you can't have any outstanding debt.

The problem is,
  A few weeks back, through a series of
  unfortunate events, she went into debt
  with her bank to the tune of $200.

Her choice now...
  Pay the bank off or eat or pay for her van.
  hmmm...

So, the bank is waiting,
  and dinner is Top Rammen - again.
  And, her van payment is made.

Because, if she doesn't pay for the van,
  they will lose their 'home-on-wheels'.

And the 'Poorest-of-Poor' can't access
  the very resources that were designed
  to assist them to find their way
  out of poverty.

The Quiet Voice Rings Clear

I suppose it's been brewing just below the surface
  of my consciousness.

And, I suppose Spirit decided it was time for me
  to know just what it is that it is asking of me.

I felt it this weekend
  a sudden knowing, like a revelation,
  a certainty...

Like Spirit finally made its request known to me.

It is about poverty, food security and water rights.
  That is the request,
  that I turn this passion into the force
  that drives my actions and decisions
  from this point forth.

Like that, I just knew...
  or rather, Spirit told me.

And then, I knew I was to write,
  to give voice to those who live in poverty,
  who live without food security
  who do not have access to clean, potable water.

I accept this request, with all my heart.
  I will show the face of poverty,
  make heard the voice of poverty.

For I believe that when poverty is given
  a face and a name and a voice, the power of love will
  break down the barrier of ignorance and allow others
  to open their hearts, to feel their compassion.
 
And that love will ignite in their spirit the understanding
  that we are all ONE,
  that what one of us suffers
  we all feel,
  and when one of us offers love to another,
  we all are blessed.

I don't know how this calling will evolve,
  nor does my understanding of the steps matter.
  All that matters is that I say 'yes' to Spirit's request
  and that I will find opportunities, however small,
  to act on this commitment.

Spirit has graced me with an answer
  in this long period of discernment.
  I am blessed.
  I am so very blessed.

that feeling when I
know
I am doing that
for which I was called

Kundalini sparking
flowing
bursting

Living in me
Living through me
Living now

gratitude

Street Sleeper

A few days back, I allowed my self to envision
  the possibility of experiencing the next stage of poverty.

Yesterday, poverty came to me
  dressed in the garb of a friend, woman, teacher.

Her spirit's sorrow lept at me from a block away.
  She was pulling for breath, but life portioned it only in small gasps.

This day was particularly hard.
  The migraine came yesterday and she had no medicine to stop its rampage.

But, still she had to work, for she couldn't afford to lose the
  $300/week income upon which she and her partner barely subsist.

Sometime during that migraine, her glasses broke,
  leaving her sightless and without recourse to buy a new pair.

Nor could she drive to an eye doctor in her home-on-wheels,
  because on her birthday last Sunday, her driver's license expired.
  She can't renew it because she can't afford to pay the fee.

Now, she drives to the place where she and her partner sleep
  for the night, and then back to work...
  fearful that she might be pulled over, lose her right to drive,
  or have her home-on-wheels impounded...

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to her, a vendor mistakenly withdrew more money
  from her bank account than she had - after she had canceled the service.

The overdraft cost her another $35 and caused a cascade of bounced-checks
  which caused further overdrafts and charges...

So, she came to work
  with a migraine and no glasses, and no money for dinner...

Sat down to write and discovered my mouse isn't working.
  As I replaced the battery, I thought,
  'Would that all life be so simple.'

But having said that, I realize
  I would become bored so
  quickly with a life-so-simple,

and decided, rather, to opt
  for the mountain top journey
  I selected so very long ago.

Raise Your Voices

I've been contemplating...

What happens, really, when your money runs out
  and you still have no source of income?

I see, on the streets of this fine city, people
  who know the answer to this question.

As the pile of unanswered job applications rises
  and my bank account dwindles,

I wonder if their path is not that which
  unfolds in front of me.

So, yesterday I dared to step beyond my fear

  to envision this path.

I vowed that, should this path be mine,

  I will bring my pen and paper

and I will give voice to those standing on the 

  street corners of this world, who ask

us all to consider our humanity.

the Foreword for My New Book - the next draft

This story commences

  somewhere in the middle.

  In this middle place, I walked yet

  another path of reflection and healing

  of the events that transpired ten years past.

You see, I am a gay woman, a lesbian.

  My particular life circumstances prevented

  me from knowing this until my 39^th year, after

  a husband and three children filled my life, after

  I had established a career and selected my life path.

The crisis of this awakening arose in the midst of other

  events, so that in the passage of a mere four years;

  my mother and father departed this life,

  my relationship with my life partner ended,

  I was asked to surrender, and nearly lost, my babies, 

  members of my birth family disowned me,

  my life partner’s kin vanished from my life,

  my business and source of income failed,

  the church family of my youth rejected me,

  my home, the future I anticipated…all gone.

These events brought the fire that razed

  everything I thought I understood and believed.

  You know the feeling when the world turns upside

  down and you discover that gravity doesn’t really exist?

The experiences have been my teachers and guides,

  ever-present and relentless in their quest to gift healing,

  confront harmful beliefs, open new paths, reveal wisdom.

The fusion of those events with the experiences of my

  childhood and my recent encounter with mid-life

  created the substance out of which the journey

  of the last four years was birthed and grew.

I imagine that, in the moments prior to the union of our

  soul with the newborn, we were advised that this life did

  not come with a promise of unbroken happiness and ease.

I imagine also that we were reminded that this was to be a

  journey of the soul to experience wonders and trials,

  and through them, to feel the sacredness of life.

So many of us journey through our days searching for

  purpose, meaning, healing, fulfillment, happiness.

  The journey can be rich beyond measure,

  overflowing with wonder and laughter,

  turmoil and tears, profound love...

I share my experiences in hopes that they

  will resonate in the hearts and souls of fellow

  travelers, affirm the sacredness of each person’s

  Spirit Walk, and encourage all to continue on their path.