Some things you're not letting happen right now because the timing isn't perfect for you. Some you're not letting happen because you are very aware of where you are. But all things, as they are happening, are happening in perfect order. And if you will relax and begin saying, "Everything in its perfect time. Everything is unfolding. And I'm enjoying where I am now, in relationship to where I'm going. Content where I am, and eager for more," that is the perfect vibrational stance.
--- Abraham
Superfection: n. The state of being in the Perfect Vibrational Stance.
2.28.2011
2.25.2011
Spike It
I am completely clueless as to why my child decided to take a piece of pottery that I've had for years and smash it on the sidewalk. Autism comes with its particularities. Notions arise spontaneously. I have to always be on the lookout. Suffice it to say, I was not looking out. No. Not until I opened the door for the UPS man did I see the shattered pieces of clay.
Everything has meaning to me.
I've tried to give less and less significant to the material things in my life and I'm proud to say I've made gains but there is something about art ~ paintings, pictures, sculptures, music ~ that holds deep relevance for me. This piece of shattered clay was no different. On the ground lay the moments when I saw it, fell in love with it and took it home with me. What had been a beautiful semi-sphere of loveliness was now just a collection of odd shapes on the ground. Not knowing what else to do, I took a cleansing breath and accepted it. This was its form now. It looked completely different from what it had been. So, I embraced it. I wasn't angry. I wasn't hurt. I wasn't disappointed. And upon acceptance, one word passed across my thoughts: Mosaic. Then a next thought: Your hands on it. Then a clear thought: Create a deeper meaning.
We are creators. It is core to our nature. Even in the destruction of my precious pottery, my son was creating an understanding of cause and effect (I guess I'm not as clueless as I thought). And creation is nothing if it is not cause and effect. So...
I'm making a mosaic.* Which, I've always wanted to do.
*It should be noted that I do not know how the hell to do this but learning will be part of the fun!
Everything has meaning to me.
I've tried to give less and less significant to the material things in my life and I'm proud to say I've made gains but there is something about art ~ paintings, pictures, sculptures, music ~ that holds deep relevance for me. This piece of shattered clay was no different. On the ground lay the moments when I saw it, fell in love with it and took it home with me. What had been a beautiful semi-sphere of loveliness was now just a collection of odd shapes on the ground. Not knowing what else to do, I took a cleansing breath and accepted it. This was its form now. It looked completely different from what it had been. So, I embraced it. I wasn't angry. I wasn't hurt. I wasn't disappointed. And upon acceptance, one word passed across my thoughts: Mosaic. Then a next thought: Your hands on it. Then a clear thought: Create a deeper meaning.
We are creators. It is core to our nature. Even in the destruction of my precious pottery, my son was creating an understanding of cause and effect (I guess I'm not as clueless as I thought). And creation is nothing if it is not cause and effect. So...
I'm making a mosaic.* Which, I've always wanted to do.
*It should be noted that I do not know how the hell to do this but learning will be part of the fun!
2.20.2011
Exclaiming A Reclaiming
"The wound is the place where the Light enters you." ~ Rumi
I'm writing in a hotel room identical to the one I woke up in on Thanksgiving Day 2008. Not true. I never went to sleep. I was up all night living through the deepest contrast I had ever created in my life. At the time, I didn't realize it was all me. I did not realize I was the sole shepherdess of that which I herded in and out of my life -- the words, the actions, the reactions -- the people. No. I just knew that who I was, in the moments of that night, and who I wanted to be, in all the moments after, were so severely estranged that there would be no way either of me would be able to recognize the other if I were to pass myself on the street. I look back on that night with deep and abiding gratitude. So deep, I can feel it from head to toes. I can taste it on my tongue and feel it burning in my eyes. Sometimes, I have to force it back down into me fearing it might explode through my chest. The gratitude isn't just for the assured reunion of myself but it is also for the healing that is slowing taking place and returning all lingering aspects of that night towards Love.* All this gratitude makes it easy to look back on but, in all honesty, I never dreamed I'd return to this hotel. What beautiful closure to awaken to such a beautiful morning so refreshed.
"Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain." ~ Joseph Campbell
*Feel free to impose your darkest moments on my words. We each have lived some darkness. Sometimes that darkness becomes an entire life. But it does not have to. Just a simple choice to look around for people, places and things to feel thankful for ~ to truly feel that thankfulness ~ can become the lifeline to a new life. Is it really that simple?
Yes.
In my humble opinion.
I'm writing in a hotel room identical to the one I woke up in on Thanksgiving Day 2008. Not true. I never went to sleep. I was up all night living through the deepest contrast I had ever created in my life. At the time, I didn't realize it was all me. I did not realize I was the sole shepherdess of that which I herded in and out of my life -- the words, the actions, the reactions -- the people. No. I just knew that who I was, in the moments of that night, and who I wanted to be, in all the moments after, were so severely estranged that there would be no way either of me would be able to recognize the other if I were to pass myself on the street. I look back on that night with deep and abiding gratitude. So deep, I can feel it from head to toes. I can taste it on my tongue and feel it burning in my eyes. Sometimes, I have to force it back down into me fearing it might explode through my chest. The gratitude isn't just for the assured reunion of myself but it is also for the healing that is slowing taking place and returning all lingering aspects of that night towards Love.* All this gratitude makes it easy to look back on but, in all honesty, I never dreamed I'd return to this hotel. What beautiful closure to awaken to such a beautiful morning so refreshed.
"Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain." ~ Joseph Campbell
*Feel free to impose your darkest moments on my words. We each have lived some darkness. Sometimes that darkness becomes an entire life. But it does not have to. Just a simple choice to look around for people, places and things to feel thankful for ~ to truly feel that thankfulness ~ can become the lifeline to a new life. Is it really that simple?
Yes.
In my humble opinion.
2.17.2011
I totally agree, I think.
Thought that is projected, now thinks. So it's not possible to separate the thinker from the thought, because the thinker thinks a thought, and then the thought thinks and becomes a thinker, and then the thought, that was a thought that is now a thinker, thinks another thought, which becomes a thinker, also. And so, there is a constant summoning of Life Force. Now, a thought that is thought longer becomes Thought Form. A thought that is thought upon by many, becomes Thought Form. A thought that is thought upon by many, in a very clear undiluted fashion, as from Nonphysical Perspective where there is no resistance, becomes physical matter. That's why the physical universe is a by-product of the Nonphysical attention or focus. So, the Nonphysical Energy that created this physical mass from the Energy of the Universe, the mass itself, now becomes a thought that is thinking, that is attracting the Energy. --- Abraham
This kind of made my head hurt!
This kind of made my head hurt!
2.15.2011
2.14.2011
This Is My Brain On Friendship
On Friendship
Kahlil Gibran
He* is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.
And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.
*...and, of course, She.
2.13.2011
Be the Journey
Everything you do is for the purpose of the joy that it is giving you. And so, when you don't see something through, it means that it stopped producing the joy that you were hoping to receive. Of course, it is always better if you have anticipated something and you've stayed lined up with it. If you're lined up with it, then it's joy when you're thinking about it even before you start, and it's joyful as you start, and it's intoxicating as you're going, and it's fulfilling as you do it, and it's satisfying as you finish it and you're in alignment the whole way on that.
--- Abraham
While I was educating myself at Evergreen back in the mid-90's, Be Love was a phrase given to me by a beloved instructor. She lived it. She was the quintessential optimist. When I graduated, I moved away and it fell away from my vocabulary only to reemerged upon seeing a t-shirt, of all things, a couple of years ago. The other day the phrase, Be the Journey, re-entered my life. Somewhere in my timeline with her, she also offered me those words as a gift during one of our quite talks. She knew me very well. I tried to understand and live her words but they fell forgotten, lost to the notion that my life was chaos and I was not in control of any of it. Now, her words are back in a wonderful coalescing for me. A trip that is both healing and empowering. I have learned to truly listen to the essence of words when they are offered to me. They have become my ride...
Love IS the fuel, she would say. You, in and of yourself, are the highest octane.
It's crazy how many times, in the past, I've run on empty. It is insane how many times I thought this energy had to be pulled from some source outside of me and found myself stuck on the side of some proverbial road of self-pity. Seriously, how awesome is it to be alive...to travel each mile marker of Now. To look around and watch the sign posts indicating manifestation after manifestation. Each a replication indicating how good one is getting at steering. I have been such a poor driver. Some are naturals. I am often in awe. For me, it has taken time to learn to surrender to this road of creation. One that, when trusted, leaves reality behind with each new destination. Now, in my life, when things seem off course, there is just the simple act to Be Love in that moment, to look around and embrace the feeling, the experience, the awareness and surrender that reality with gratitude so that I am able to Be the Journey* again. How do I know? I am inspired. I feel joy. Joy is my compass.
*Did someone say, Extra cheese??? *Giggle*
P.S. I will not apologize for such childishness. :)
--- Abraham
While I was educating myself at Evergreen back in the mid-90's, Be Love was a phrase given to me by a beloved instructor. She lived it. She was the quintessential optimist. When I graduated, I moved away and it fell away from my vocabulary only to reemerged upon seeing a t-shirt, of all things, a couple of years ago. The other day the phrase, Be the Journey, re-entered my life. Somewhere in my timeline with her, she also offered me those words as a gift during one of our quite talks. She knew me very well. I tried to understand and live her words but they fell forgotten, lost to the notion that my life was chaos and I was not in control of any of it. Now, her words are back in a wonderful coalescing for me. A trip that is both healing and empowering. I have learned to truly listen to the essence of words when they are offered to me. They have become my ride...
Love IS the fuel, she would say. You, in and of yourself, are the highest octane.
It's crazy how many times, in the past, I've run on empty. It is insane how many times I thought this energy had to be pulled from some source outside of me and found myself stuck on the side of some proverbial road of self-pity. Seriously, how awesome is it to be alive...to travel each mile marker of Now. To look around and watch the sign posts indicating manifestation after manifestation. Each a replication indicating how good one is getting at steering. I have been such a poor driver. Some are naturals. I am often in awe. For me, it has taken time to learn to surrender to this road of creation. One that, when trusted, leaves reality behind with each new destination. Now, in my life, when things seem off course, there is just the simple act to Be Love in that moment, to look around and embrace the feeling, the experience, the awareness and surrender that reality with gratitude so that I am able to Be the Journey* again. How do I know? I am inspired. I feel joy. Joy is my compass.
*Did someone say, Extra cheese??? *Giggle*
P.S. I will not apologize for such childishness. :)
2.09.2011
Dazed & Amused
Happy Valentine Daze, Virgo! What's the best way for you to celebrate the season of love? In accordance with the astrological omens, here's a good suggestion: Write haiku-like poems on scraps of red paper and leave them around for a special someone to find. You can borrow the following samples, adopted from the work of Raymond Roseliep. 1. "mist on my mouth -- air you touched." 2. "I tried to bring you that one cloud in this cup of water." 3. "black raspberries -- your name breaking in the soft burst." 4. "love song: I enter your mirror." To get more inspiration, check here. ~ Ohhhh, Haiku
I love haiku. It is refinement of thought at its finest. Poetically, at least, imho. I understand it to be 17 syllables or less, three lined minimalist verse. I tend to write the standard 5/7/5 form from my old poetry group daze. Thinking of that time provokes a scandalous poetic tangent. One involving rhyme and meter:
Black Widow
I have had
more than one lover.
More than the saints
care to discover.
Here on my hearth
lay the will of another,
soon to be called upon
in his slumber.
10 to a 100,
I think the count is.
I kiss them,
I stroke them,
I lead them to bliss.
Yet, none ever please me
I regrettably admit.
Which leads me to add
one more notch to my bed.
We were to write a poem about a woman. Any woman. I chose my late aunt. Who, if had been a man, would have been known as a lady killer. As I've mentioned in a previous blog, my aunt was not of her time. She reminds me, as I look back on her life, of Anne Sexton.
"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard."
My aunt and Anne would have been good friends. She was a highly expressive woman and could out sing Patsy Cline any day of the week. I am thinking of her now because I remember vividly being in her apartment eating chocolate hearts on Valentine's afternoon while trying on all of her wigs and high heels. And. Various shades of Avon lipsticks. I was in Kindergarten. And. I have no idea where my mother was. My aunt was going out that night. That's what my mother would later say. My aunt went out often. After her death, my mother found her diary. It turned out that it was the way she had made her living. Avon, however, was a nice cover. I'm not speaking ill of her. No, I loved her unconditionally. She was so beautiful to me.
Heaven, non-judging,
carried her ear to Her Soul.
Whispered, you are Love.
I love haiku. It is refinement of thought at its finest. Poetically, at least, imho. I understand it to be 17 syllables or less, three lined minimalist verse. I tend to write the standard 5/7/5 form from my old poetry group daze. Thinking of that time provokes a scandalous poetic tangent. One involving rhyme and meter:
Black Widow
I have had
more than one lover.
More than the saints
care to discover.
Here on my hearth
lay the will of another,
soon to be called upon
in his slumber.
10 to a 100,
I think the count is.
I kiss them,
I stroke them,
I lead them to bliss.
Yet, none ever please me
I regrettably admit.
Which leads me to add
one more notch to my bed.
We were to write a poem about a woman. Any woman. I chose my late aunt. Who, if had been a man, would have been known as a lady killer. As I've mentioned in a previous blog, my aunt was not of her time. She reminds me, as I look back on her life, of Anne Sexton.
"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard."
My aunt and Anne would have been good friends. She was a highly expressive woman and could out sing Patsy Cline any day of the week. I am thinking of her now because I remember vividly being in her apartment eating chocolate hearts on Valentine's afternoon while trying on all of her wigs and high heels. And. Various shades of Avon lipsticks. I was in Kindergarten. And. I have no idea where my mother was. My aunt was going out that night. That's what my mother would later say. My aunt went out often. After her death, my mother found her diary. It turned out that it was the way she had made her living. Avon, however, was a nice cover. I'm not speaking ill of her. No, I loved her unconditionally. She was so beautiful to me.
Heaven, non-judging,
carried her ear to Her Soul.
Whispered, you are Love.
2.05.2011
Light In
In Leonard Cohen's song "Anthem," he sings "There is a crack in everything / That's how the light gets in." From what I can tell, Virgo, the week ahead will be one of the best times all year for welcoming the light that comes through the cracks. In fact, I urge you to consider widening the cracks a little -- maybe even splitting open a few new cracks -- so that the wildly healing light can pour down on you in profusion.* ~ Josh!
"Anthem"
The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.
I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.
Ring the bells that still can ring ...
You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
*Let it pour...
"Anthem"
The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.
I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.
Ring the bells that still can ring ...
You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
*Let it pour...
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