dear ones, i awaken for the second day in the lighthouse on the banks of the river reflecting on the great turning with saturday being personally the day of fledging and collectively the day of eclipsing and new mooning and sunday the day of wu weiing and today still unconnected to the internet and unable to post, the innernet connection guides infallibly into deep appreciation for the mystery of life’s unfolding for the benefit of us in these times of profound uncertainty and rapid flux…

On This Day of Opening

open my eyes so i may vision

open my ears so i may listen

open my voice so i may rejoice

open my heart so i may know

thank you for this day of wandering in wonder, moving through turbulence, traveling in concert with the rains, looking deeply into the river to see the river below the river where we flow as one, listening to the migrating geese, re-joy-sing in the promised expansive dwelling space for the inspirited soul to in joy …

thank you for the gift of digging deeper and deeper into the soil/soul of our true nature and winging our way more and more expansively with the spirits of the cosm… stilling the noise to feel the pulse of our essence, the heartbeat of love always flowing inside and radiating outward in ever-widening circles of compassion and care…

thank you, grandmother spider, for weaving the web of life where all relatives belong and are essential for the turning of the wheel…

dear ones, i have been traveling back and forth across the countryside for the past eleven days/eleven lifetimes on a listening tour and although unconnected to the internet and unable to post, the innernet connection guides infallibly even, especially, in these times of uncertainty…

so, i’ve been wandering in wonder, moving through turbulence, traveling in concert with the rains, watching the gentle rainfalls soften the landscapes of hard baked earth…

giving us the gift of digging deeper and deeper into the soil/soul of our true nature… stilling the noise to feel the pulse of our essence, the heartbeat of love always flowing inside radiating outward in ever-widening circles…

THE WELL

Be thankful now for having arrived,
for the sense of having drunk from a well,
for remembering the long drought
that preceded your arrival and the years
walking in a desert landscape of surfaces
looking for a spring hidden from you so long
that even wanting to find it now had gone
from your mind until you only remembered
the hard pilgrimage that brought you here,
the thirst that caught in your throat;
the taste of a world just-missed
and the dry throat that came from a love
you remembered but had never fully wanted
for yourself, until finally after years making
the long trek to get here it was as if your whole
achievement had become nothing but thirst itself.

But the miracle had come simply
from allowing yourself to know
that you had found it, that this time
someone walking out into the clear air
from far inside you had decided not to walk
past it any more; the miracle had come
at the roadside in the kneeling to drink
and the prayer you said, and the tears you shed
and the memory you held and the realization
that in this silence you no longer had to keep
your eyes and ears averted from the place
that could save you, that you had been given
the strength to let go of the thirsty dust laden
pilgrim-self that brought you here, walking
with her bent back, her bowed head
and her careful explanations.

No, the miracle had already happened
when you stood up, shook off the dust
and walked along the road from the well,
out of the desert toward the mountain,
as if already home again, as if you deserved
what you loved all along, as if just
remembering the taste of that clear cool
spring could lift up your face and set you free.

~ David Whyte ~