A Gentle Reminder May 26, 2011
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Speak aloud your prayer, your intention, your truth. Hum a tune that makes you happy, let the breath vibrate your vocal cords and resonate through your head. Fill your lungs with air as though you could see every molecule enter into your being, and leave it carrying your best wish.
Share with the world around your your deepest wish. It doesn’t matter if no one is watching or listening – their heart of hearts will hear you and carry forward that resonance. Carry with you their wishes, too.
These are just wishes, desires, longings and comforts to express to the world. There is no guarantee they will be met, no promise you will be satisfied, no absolute that fulfillment is coming. But why let that be a condition of expression. Is unrequited love less valuable than love exchanged? Isn’t infinite love experienced as one half of the whole potential still infinite? Is a rose bud less beautiful than the bloom?
Hum your love, whisper your desire, sing your heart’s content, as with true art, sometimes the expression is the complete act and doesn’t need a viewer, listener, vessel or lover to receive it to have full life in the great Lover’s Heart.
Choose Your Mind December 29, 2010
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A previous letter here in these pages speaks to choice, it’s sacred nature, how humanity’s beautiful being-ness could not have developed to the state it now finds itself now if we somehow did not marry these two lovers – choice and circumstance.
It seems like a lofty idea sometimes to bark on about that, choice, as though it were as free as air, or as easy as breathing…. Or perhaps one doesn’t object to the idea of choice in general…. nice philosophy, even interesting to utilize once in a while while choosing between fabric, this girl over that girl, what pants will I wear today? Some folks get to delight in extreme choices as a part of their job, such as who to pass the ball to in a game where nothing can be predicted only influenced. What about ending the song on a high or low note?
But sadly, many many people get up in the morning, make their way to work, have children, meet the neighbors for dinner, go to court, have surgery, log on and zone out, all as activities of habit. We reserve choice for special occasions such as choosing ice cream over sherbet, and forget that all we do and experience would not be possible without choice. The reason it exists is our survivability itself. How do we continue as we let slip away this exercise that has allowed us to excape so many scapes in the primordial past? Why to we abdicate this power to apathy?
My thought dear one is we don’t realize the lover we had until she’s gone. It’s as old as love itself. So we almost push her out of our lives. We do the same with the other oft-forgotten lovers, Trust and Respect. Tangled in a love tryst, Trust and Respect shake their heads at us and commiserate with Choice, wondering when the worshiped aspect of Circumstance will ever be tired of human’s reliance on him.
Too many people, favoring happenstance over choice, allow the luck of the situation dictate their course under the guise of being lead by spirit. If one is only led, but forgets that they chose to follow, what is still alive in the situation? Nature does not wish us to die inside. It conspires to organize around life, to ask that it be present. The only way to do this is to continually choose to do so.
Once upon a time, you realized you had choice. You listened to an idea, from your own heart or from someone speaking to you, writing to you in a book or message. You used to choose your thoughts. You used to discern what felt good to you to believe. We have become so entrenched in relying on the circumstances that surround us, the opinions or others, we forget that in any given moment, we can choose to believe or disbelieve. To have a thought in our mind for decades does not erase the possibility that we can change it.
One might believe that a worldview is solid, immutable, dictated by culture and upbringing. It is not. A worldview is simply a lens through which we orient ourselves by providing an interpretation through it’s prism. At some point, we were exposed to these thoughts and we chose to accept them as they comforted us. We either felt good on a sincere level, or for some of us less fortunately souls, the comfort came as a desist of pain or fear. We chose to believe one thing over another for one reason or another. We forget – we can always change our mind.
Every moment has a chance within it. Choose, be present with who you choose to be, be present with your breath, and that you allow your body to breathe and your heart to pump. Look around at the people you choose to be sitting near. Be present with the street you chose to walk down. It doesn’t take one long to realize that your thoughts are also your own choice to have, or not have. Your conclusions are not automatic, but your choice to arrive there. The circumstances in which you find yourself could not wholly have happened with out choices made on your part in some way.
The interpretation of your circumstances is also your choice. Your worldview is also wholly your choice – not “that’s just the way the world is.” Grab it, hold onto it, allow it’s flexibility to flap in your arms as you wrestle to the ground the undeniable truth that ultimately, you are not a slave to your memory or anyone else’s either. Your worldview can change only because you choose it to.
Where did we go this night? May 24, 2010
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I sit here, remembering a once was. There once was a boy I liked. There once was a dog or cat I cherished. There once was a time when people expected the world to be honest. There once was a feeling of … something.
I spent a good portion of the evening looking on the Internet for something. Normally, I look for organic roses, the definition for complicated words, phases of the moon, or images of Tibetan mountains. Tonight, I looked up “dakini” because it is referenced often in a book about Tibet. I write to you this letter, thinking of your best self that could create such beauty and visions of angels, and I listen yet to your cries of anguish as well.
Tonight, can the truth finally reconcile, that in each human being there is that of loving and that of anger, that of understanding and that of fear? I listen to you, hearing your outrage, feeling your vengeance. Can you feel my peace, can you hear my cries for joy? Can we share with each other so as to lighten our burdens? Is the pain so unbearable?
I extend to you this night, I come to you this evening, in hopes that I can help shoulder the burden. . . .
I hear your crying out no more – I envision you soothed, heard, understood, witnessed.
Good night and speak with you soon.
Clean Your Room May 15, 2010
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There are a lot of things to work on in this life. Love, connection, balancing self care with a sensitivity to others…..
Right now, as I write this, I’m in the middle of working on clearing toxins. My history – gentle as it is by many standards – has still lodged within my system toxins. Habitual thoughts and perspectives, relationships that function to diminish life rather than exhault, sickness in the body and spirit that really could just use a good scrubbing.
If a person starts cleaning up one area of life, the rest of one’s life will beg for attention, too. Clean your room, and lack of respect with someone is less tolerable. So we clean that up. We say no to the behavior, leave that relationship, or even better, figure out how to change it so it can continue with integrity, clean.
Maybe next, we realize we have shown a lack of respect to our bodies, been cluttering it with acids and muccous, things it can’t motabolize, like metals and chemicals it can’t expel. So we start feeling the buildup, and hopefully, become intollerant of that as well before it’s too late. In Aikido, students practice misogi (cleasing) in a regular basis. The practice stems simply from a realization that we all can use some polishing. No judgements about what the grime looks like or where it came from. Everyone has it. There is no good or bad about it. No one escapes picking up some ick along the way in this life.
But for many of us, it’s the choice to clean and the action that follows that is the most difficult. We know we shouldn’t have that maple donut and coffee at 3 in the afternoon, but “I’ve worked hard all day and I deserve a pick-me-up.” … or, ”I know I shouldn’t call him back, but hearing his voice sounds so good to my ears… oh, his lack of respect for me? Oh, I can take it, I’m young….”
But when is when? When do we finally say “No – I want to eat meat without the growth hormones.” or “Hold the extra mercury in my fish, please.” These toxins are in there, and we are not even aware of them. It is my goal to ferret out my own misconceptions, about myself, others, life…. messages laid in place a long time ago that my spirit did not know where to place it. Extra metals. Metals per se are not “bad”, but our body we can’t use all of them. Iron – good. We like iron. Trace metals get in there. Some we can use and others we can’t, but they still get in. Mental messages aren’t bad, but we can let go of the ones that block our healthy rythms.
If there was a way to ensure blockages to maturity would never occur, the word narcisism would not even exist. What about connection? What dust is caked over our compassion, allowing entitlement to skid across the floor with ease and unchecked? If we could clean out the pessimism we inherited from a world that continues to operate on the failures of the past lost relationships, we might expect and then co-create a more positive future – for everyone. Cleaning house is important! If everyone swept up around the litter box, think of the world peace that might ensue!
I must admit I am not thinking about Palestine as I look in the mirror and see how toxins have worked their way into my body and stay there. 20 pounds heavier in 2 months, I am at a standstill in terms of matter/energy exchange, brought on by a year without food. Now I’m eating, gratefully so. Besides being painful and messing up the metabolism of the body, going hungry leads to a family of other symptoms: lack of sustainable sustainance for the mind, nutritious nurturing for the heart, missing the Source for our spirit. It is no wonder the reason most food and hunger organizations around the world are religious and faith-based organizations. They understand that the body and spirit are inextricably linked. Aside from the symapthetic response elicited by watching a population starve, the massive loss in spiritual connection must also be felt by those whose bellies are Full.
So I am eating, but obvious not back in healthy balance yet. My physical reaction now is to resist losing weight. There’s nothing wrong with my body’s natural reaction to recent famine. But I have to wonder, am I at risk of hoarding now? Will this unfortunate lesson transpose to holding onto relationships out of fear that, right around the corner, there might be a drought in human connections?
I talk to plants. I talk to animals. I know they understand the human language. It doesn’t take a great deal of translating. At some level there is understanding between living beings. So why not speak to the living being that is your body? We I can say, “Hey there. I know you’re reacting No one’s in trouble, but the war is over. No more famine. You can let go of the stores and share your energy with others.” And to your heart: “Hi there. You can let go of that forlorn relationship now, because there is a healthy cornicopia of vitamin-rich relationships on the table for you.”
But if I’m full of the maple donuts, there’s no room for spinach and zuchini lasagna. My body and spirit will take in what I choose to put in it, even if it doesn’t know what to do with it. My body does know what to do with healthy foods, respect, and connection to the universe. I gotta have faith that my spirit will know what to do with healthy relationships if I can bag off the unhealthy ones for a while. Going forward, that means not storing them in fat-prone areas, but matabolising the goodwill that comes from shared experiences and mutual regard towards a heathier and more energized society.
…… Let’s see…. integrity, joyfulness, discipline, letting go…. What room do I clean next?
What were we talking about? September 15, 2009
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December 6, 2006
A friend and I were talking the other day. What we talked about, I couldn’t tell you. I just don’t remember. Its seems it wasn’t that important. But what was important, what I remember, was that warm feeling you get, you know, when the heat you’ve been standing next to you finally gets into your muscles and into your bones, and you feel like you can breath, relax, stop fighting off the cold as though you thought grinding teeth and pressed biceps will actually radiate heat into your hands and toes. So that warmth that I could once again stand and feel, the freedom from bracing, this kind of warmth sank into me.
I want to thank you for being just who you are that you could thaw my chilly cheeks into a smile that comes easily when I think of you.
Tell me – is that art? September 15, 2009
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May 10, 2005
Hi, I thought of you today when I was talking with a friend about art. We were trying to decide about what art is…. loaded question, you think? Yes, indeed it was. How many arguments have occurred in our lifetime that started with the statement, “Now THAT’s art.”
Luckily, we were never embroiled about a particular piece of work, but rather just talking about art in general. We came to see that we were talking about two different things. One was that a piece of work is art for the simple fact that the artisan expresses it is so. If someone called their expression of work “art”, then it is so. How it is perceived is open to interpretation, to be sure, but the definition in this case sufficed, because as long as the people doing the work considered their craft art, then it was art.
The other definition we were talking about, without knowing it, was that we call something art as long as the person perceiving the work believes it is art. That is a common belief, that once enough people believe something is art, then it becomes so, etc etc… Then there is all the people in between – some believe it is and some don’t, but the definition remains the same. As long as someone in the perceiving role believes it is art, then it is so.
Of course, there are lots of arguments we can avoid right now by my telling you that definining what is and is not art does not interest me. What interests me is that moment in time when we are compelled to call something art; or that moment when a person, working on something intently, looks at their work and they feel it is their art; or that moment when a person walking by the crafter says, “Wow, that’s art.” Is she looking at the work, or at the working, or at the craftsman’s perception of his own work?
If we stretch out the timeline….we are walking through a museum, and let’ suppose we don’t know what the original intention of the craftspeople were, but we walk by and we perceive some objects therein as art. What are we participating in when we do this? For whatever the reason is that we think something is art, in that moment when we say to ourselves, that is art, we are receiving something. Across the miles and mellinia, we have perceived and received the crafter’s handiwork. As we receive works as art, are we not receiving a message of the energy and work that went into it, regardless of the intention of the crafter? Is that not a gift we are able to give to the crafter to have received that locked energy when we recognize their work as art?
My cats – one is black and quite onry, and one is light grey and purrs a lot. She – the black one – sometimes bites , especially when I don’t hold still when she’s chosen it’s time to groom me. Then there is the light grey one… He’s quite affectionate. He never gives licks or grooming, but everyone agrees: he’s the loving one…. he loves being petted. The black cat gives attention in her way and she is loving, but it is the light cat who receives love and who is seen as loving.
If receiving is a universal sign of love, is receiving the work of others also a way to connect to the crafter in a conduit no less powerful than love? The bond that can exist between crafter and those who receive it can occur over decades, creating a connection across the years and generations. This makes sense, because love – true love – knows no space and time as boundaries.
The medium of air and water is very fluid, and signals travel through these media very quickly. The denser the medium, the slower the message. While this may seem far fetched, doesn’t it make sense that there is possibly a tangible element to this perception or reception of which I speak? Is it possible that the crafter, working with their wood or canvas or vegitable twine, can infuse a message of art, of love into their work, that can be received years later in the recipient who perceives it as art once again? The statue in the hall, or the basket in the garden, or the paintings lining the room walls of a student, who so loved his subject he never sold one of them, may all have transmitting through them the signals left in their media by the crafters.
And maybe there are works out there that have that energy, but have not been released yet because the receiving has not yet occurred. There, waiting like jars of rippening jam ready to be received, and when that occurs, the threads of connection are picked up, and the connections of love are complete. There must be millions of potential woven fabrics of this sort of reception and perception right here, right now, if we would just look upon, feel, open to, and appreciate the works of art around us. I’m thinking, hmmm, I wouldn’t mind that sort of blanket surrounding this planet right now.
Inside that column of moist electricity September 15, 2009
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March 1, 2005
Have you ever walked onto a path, and felt the air shift, become warmer, as though you entered into the field of a space heater, or the beam of sunlight, though nothing around you seems different from the step before? You make a mental note of it, and you think, oh that’s nice. It helps you shake off the shivers. Then, a few more steps, you’re out of it, out of that illusory room and back into the elements.
Imagine that awareness can be like that. We’re walking along, pretty alert as standards go, and then suddenly, we become somehow more aware, more awake. We feel it to our bones, shaking off illusions of our inadequacy and warming our fears into calmness. For that moment in time, we sense some different truths with our ultasensitive inner skin. Oh! it’s warm there. Then the awareness subsides, and we again perceive our life the way we normally do.
I don’t know about you, but I tend to remember where those warm pockets are on my hikes. I like to think I can get back to those spaces of awareness when I want to, too. I’ll start to remember to collect some trail markers along the way.
Your place or mine? September 15, 2009
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February 16, 2005
I’ve been thinking… Our sense of choice, the sense that we have the power to make choices seems to be the least remembered aspect of our participation in this life. But our choices are what make up our lives, our Life. Why do we forget this, I wonder. I know for me, I get exhausted remembering I have that much responsibility, and then when I’m that tired, I have a hard time making a decision about Sea Captain’s Choice or Lamb Gibblets. Really, the cats should be with me during such trips.
There are things that do seem to be predetermined, and, putting aside the belief that we choose this life previous to our birth, we still have choices to make ever since that moment of entry. We make choices about how to handle rude kids on the playground, we choose to tell the truth or not in a tense situation, we choose to pay attention, or not. But many of us don’t experience these moments as choice, but as pressures into one direction or another. Do we not have enough time to wipe our brow and listen to our hearts…? Well, maybe or maybe not. Somehow we forget that we always have the faculty to decide. I’m guessing once we fall asleep to that, it is difficult to arouse that wakefulness in times of stress or fatigue.
The world these days feels beleagered. Thinking of our personal responsibility may seem perhaps a luxury we can’t afford while we shore up our defenses against everything. As a collective, we are sleepily imbibing in a toxic gas of fear and aggression. We continue in this dream as though our actions make no difference, as though our choices have no consequences.
Oh – the hangover when the waking happens! In our dreams, we are the hero and the villian and the confused bystandard. Only in lucid dreams do we realize we have choice, and what a joy it is to discover the dream state in such a way. But the same applies to the waking world, to this life. What if we woke up inside this dream, realized we are dreaming and started to live this dream differently, with power of choice and determination? Suddenly, we would see that the monsters we were running from are only apparitions of our conflicted personae. Literally, the veils would fall to the side revealing a truth we do not normally imagine, but if we are lucky, we sometimes glimpse. If we woke up, as though we were dreaming, anxious struggles would fall away as we checked out every detail of this world. We’d again feel free to decide, to make choices about this world we created. We’d see it for the beautiful landscape it is and look to clean up our dream-state misunderstandings.
For those of us who have never had a lucid dream, I appologize for the lengthy comparison. Have one, soon. Simply tell yourself to wake up inside your dream the next time you’re there. It may take some practice, so don’t be surprised if you actually wake up immediately after realizing you’re dreaming. You’ll get better at it. Give yourself a chance.
Once you get the hang of it during your dreams, then try it out in this life. Set your intention at the beginning of your day to wake up the next time you find yourself asleep in your life. Just like in lucid dreams, telling yourself to wake up may not be enough at first. Keep at it. You’ll get better.
Hi. How are you? December 21, 2006
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January 13, 2005
Hi.
It’s been a long time since I last wrote, I know. I’ve missed you, though, and think of you quite often. I’d like to start a correspondence, a conversation of sorts,…that is, of course, if you’re amenable. I feel like we have a lot of catching up to do….. in more ways that one.
I’ll start…. first, I want to appologize for cutting out on you, for being self-absorbed, and for not paying attention. We all come here to do something, big or small, flamboyant or quiet. I strayed and forgot, and for that I’m sorry. I feel more awake now, and I ask your forgiveness. I know I’m not perfect, and I promise I won’t pretend to be. But, I think, together we can make something wonderful here….
Well, that’s it for now. Think about it. Let me know. I’m right here.
