After so many lovely days of traveling outside the Blissness Blue Moon Lodge, it is so necessary to be inside and recharge batteries, to enter this cave and journey into the tiny space of the heart re-membering that letting go is to let flow and re-claiming the once dammed river free once again to flow naturally along a more spacious path, an ever expanding fluid waterway deeper and deeper into our one heart’s illumination…
As i walk down some rough streets today with others for whom these streets are home, i re-member the true journey into consciousness we all share and trust with a knowing beyond reason, beyond understanding, a trusting in divinity, in the sea of love…
riding my painted pony across the full moon enshrouded now in whiteface with all knowing eyes peering through death mask of silence
witnessing pain, delight, aggravation, elation, everydayness, otherworldliness and with each rolling breath infusing beauty into the all that is
transmuting all beasties into glorious light bodies dwelling with silvery moon goddess resting in her realm of stillness
~
Each step, each breath, i surrender to the divine…
pilgrimage to another state
resting at the foot of the mountain in the land of Yakima
cradled and rocked by our earth mother
into the music of celestial spheres
~
loving the journey of being naked to the now
resting in the gap, floating in radiance
being in the center of the medicine wheel
the soul of the space where only love is real
~
listening in a deeper way
surrendering into dancing mystery’s sway
one with all in the inner sea
watery womb of infinity
~
Just like the ducks, we all can choose with each breath to head towards an unknown shore guided by an inner sonar hum – do you hear it’s call? What a gift to be free to choose in every moment, to be welcome always, home in the sea of love…
Blessings to all as the light pours in…
When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight,
The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.
Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.
The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.
You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken for the race of days.
At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.
You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.
Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.
Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.
Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.
Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.
—John O’Donohue, from “Blessings”
Just like the flocks of geese flying together, when we travel together we journey further, faster, more efficiently and with much greater ease as we are cooperative beings of light always guided by invisible hands… May we all rest softly and gently in this ultimate reality…
reflecting this moment on the life of a tree
receiving the knowing of how to freely be
opening to whatever comes this way
moving fluidly throughout the day
~
There’s no place like home and home is where the heart is, so, we’re always home and i so love being the blissness blue moon lodge on this day that feels like a rainbow bridge…
Holy Synchronicity! I fell asleep before posting this last night and i hear today that the caged bird is singing freely, Maya is released to always be our rainbow…
Here’s a way i’m re-membering… Below is a profound poem on peace she read at the United Nation’s 50th anniversary in 1995.
We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth
And when we come to it
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palms
When we come to it
When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate
And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean
When battlefields and coliseum
No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters
Up with the bruised and bloody grass
To lie in identical plots in foreign soil
When the rapacious storming of the churches
The screaming racket in the temples have ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble
Stoutly in the good, clean breeze
When we come to it
When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
And children dress their dolls in flags of truce
When land mines of death have been removed
And the aged can walk into evenings of peace
When religious ritual is not perfumed
By the incense of burning flesh
And childhood dreams are not kicked awake
By nightmares of abuse
When we come to it
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids
With their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of Babylon
Hanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsets
Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor,
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the world
When we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe
We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines
When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear
When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
~Maya Angelou