Wednesday, July 12, 2017


Flow through me, be my companion.  Touch every part of my mind.  Reach into the deep recesses of my soul and unconsciousness, and put into them your light.  Illuminate my darkness, so that I may be healed.  Swirl in the air, resound from the Ground of Being.  Come in, be in my breath, flow through my limbs.  Let all succumb to you.  Let my inner child be at home in you, and then rocket though all my years until I'm completely swallowed up by you.

Sing from the highest height.  Bubble up from the deepest sea.  Be on the wind.  Make yourself known from between the stillness.  Be through the music of the ages, make all things new.  Heal us.  Let us be home.

Bring into the light the shadow in my soul.  That I may know true peace.  That my joy may overflow. To be a part of the Whole.  To know Reality as good.  To not fear my own skin, or my own death, but to see it as a transition into new life, into a new birth.

Let my mind find rest.  Ease my fear.  Speak into me the Truth that is beyond my words.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017


Not one, but not the other.  Somewhere in-between?  Or something else entirely?  I reach for one, to fall.  I reach for the other, to fall.  Polarities seem to be my downfall.  Am I on the left or the right?  Am I good or bad?  Is the universe friendly or a cold dark place, or worse, hostile.

When I seek for answers by staring them in the faces, I get nowhere, rather, I get frustrated.

What if....What if all are part of the story.  What if each polarity reflects a part of the truth.  I don't want to climb a latter the entirety of my life to find it was leaning against the wrong, or one, building.   I don't want to be numb to learning from others different than me.

It is true, I have sought comfort and security from the poles.  If only I could pitch my tent there, and everything would go right.  I must let go of this notion, this lie that promises comfort only to breed hate.  In this place, I feel a sense of power, but it deceives me.  For I thought I could control it.  I thought I sat upon it like a race horse or a tank, which I could steer to do my bidding.  I thought it had my best interest in mind, but it used me as a spoke on a wheel,  a while spinning in the concrete, both going nowhere and towards nothingness.

Step back.  Breathe.  If the answers aren't in the poles, where are they.  Maybe in that we need not comb the ends of the earth to seek our truth, rather rest in that the truth is already present, already self sufficient.  I need not look among the stars, it's not in a celebration of polarity or autonomy, but an acceptance and surrender to that which is normal, that which is the true Reality.  The Reality that is holding each of us, asking us to let the chaff die, so that it can be reborn into a bigger and more inclusive expanse.  Thus participating in a truth already present, not sought by defining our differences, by seeking polarity.  Not building a latter to climb to the highest reaches of my mind, but rather feeling the earth beneath my feet, and realizing that the sacred has always been present.  It's been holding me much more than I've been seeking it.  In my seeking, I have become distracted from its basic principles, and its mystery embedded in the ordinary.

In this type of universe, my ascension is needed, not building my towers and walls, protecting what's "mine," reaching the "pinnacle," striving to get ahead or be one up.  It's not in a self constructed life.  Rather, it's in a dying of all of this, to be reborn to the true gratification.  Death and life.  It's in my death that I am met.  And here, my effort means nothing.  Rather, it's in my nothingness where I am held, in a boundless and spacious place.  And here, we are all on equal ground, because we are all held by the One.  It's His power that does the changing, I must simply basque in the sunlight.

Stop.  Breathe.  Awake.  Love.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Even When

Even when I'm at my lowest, even when the game seems played before, even when darkness seems more present than hope; the river flows.  My eyes are crusty, they burn from the fires from which I tried to view reality.  My knees strain, they carry a weary body, and the burden.  

Even when I am lost in my own head, where thoughts carry way too much of my attention.  Even when I fall short; the river flows.  My head twitches, my weight scares me, my throat is still sore.  

Even when I'm dead; the river flows.  Before and beyond a temporary scare, before a twisted body, there is hope; for you, for me, for everything.  

I had just been looking at the wrong symbols.  They only bound me, into chains, while I thought I was innovating.  But, when I close my eyes, I hear a distant sound of trickling water, the water of life.  I give pause, considering what I hear.  Could there be more here?  I must tune in; the trickle becomes a bubbling, becomes a brook, becomes a stream, becomes a river, becomes a lake, becomes an ocean, becomes everything.  My broken back and strained eyes receive their balm.  Not in the innovation of my crafty mind, or in the promise of a new healing, but in the Presence.  The One who has been, will be and is.  Through which time ceases and my soul is finally home.  My death, that I died in was speaking from the wrong set of presuppositions.  There was another story being told, right under my nose.  From within and without.  Healing exists.  Hope is real.  It is the fabric of reality; I tried to build my castle, all the while a home already existed.  Let me not be my own pain, my own undoing.  

Let my head and heart rest in the eternal story, the one that can only be spoken of in metaphor, and yet is truer than any definition of it.


All things gone, only one remains.  But this one holds the rest, so all things stay.  I thought the darkness had covered, I thought the end had come.  I fade to grey, only to realize that inside the grey was a great mystery, that holds every paradox, gently, and each paradox is given full expression so that the polarities are not polarities any longer.  Rather they flow in a perfect circle, and then outward, and then inward, and then out into the universe, and then in-between the atoms deeper and deeper into the ground of being.  Yes, it covers all, reveals all, transforms all, is perfectly hidden and perfectly revealed at once.

Father, help my inner world to be open to your flow, come from without and within, until I fall into an infinite number of infinities, into that which cannot be explained.

All was gone, but then all began.  My world cracked, crumbled, was broken open, was asunder, melted upon the hot earth, only to change form.  Not like ice, to water, to steam, but a death and rebirth.  A new creation, joined with that which has been singing forever, in perfect unity, in perfect harmony, with themselves, to realize, this was first.  Life was first.  Rebirth is into that which already was, I need only believe it.  The shell that I thought was my primary existence was the disguise.  This self made facade, shown to the systems and schools I tried to impress, where I sought praise, in anger, out of nothingness.  I tried to create a new me, only to repeat my same patterns, adding to my pain.

The Example, a perfect combination of human and divine, who also believed thus, came to bring us life.  That we might not fear our bodies, or hate them, or divide them or tear them asunder.  So let us fade to grey.  Let our polarities loose their stance, let them fall into a deep rest, let them realize they already posses that which they scream so loudly for.

Let the music play, open wide the gates, it's more inclusive than we thought.  Let us all be carried into that which cannot be described, only felt, only lived into.  Truth was never to be fully understood, but only enjoyed.