She’s a whistle on the wind
A feather on the breeze
A ripple on the stream
She is sunlight on the sea
She’s a soft summer rain
Falling gently through the trees
And I love her
She’s cunning as a fox
Clever as a crow
Solid as a rock
She is stubborn as a stone
Shes a hardheaded woman
And the best one that I know
And I love her
Yeah well I love her
She’s as new as the springtime,
Strong as autumn blows
Warm as the summer
And soft as the snow
She’s a thousand miles from here
But she’s everywhere I go
Cuz I love her
She loves me like a woman
She looks like a lady
She laughs like a child
And cries like a baby
I love her…
She calls on water
and asks me what happens
when I descend with him
into the unknown.
I pause and look down,
my hands touch and weave.
The sun on my arm
from the dark night of my sleeve.
My eyes well up as I say –
We go deep,
so deep into that space
and hold each other
in revered embrace…
So simple –
I talk and he reflects,
his silence –
the architect of respect…
I sink into memory –
As he says he knows
what I am to him
when he’s in the shadow…
Funny, I say in response,
When we slip to the unknown
and blindly roam
you say I’m your north star,
and you’re my home.
Every thought, emotion & experience is fleeting unless we hold onto it. But more importantly, life flows. It gets stuck often, as we become fascinated by or cringe from the torture of experience… But it flows nonetheless. Change never ceases.
Regardless, if we go about our days witnessing turmoil & uncomfortability & say to ourselves, “I’m just letting it flow, no big deal” we often cut ourselves off from feeling fully… So there, that feeling or thought gets stuck in our bodies, minds and spirits. The mind may say, “Well this suffering is just silly. My nature is bliss. It’s not relevant or real, so what’s the point in feeling it?” And we sever ourselves more because we’ve renounce its sacred teaching… Suffering is the result of clogged up feelings, thoughts, elaborate stories and experiences that reside in us… The ordeal ensues until we open to feeling and understanding what they are there to teach us in the moment they appear… Learning presence is not about dismissing painful experience as “part of the flow”. This is just another fancy defense mechanism of the mind… One that’s much harder to see because it’s based on apparent wisdom. How often do we dismiss our experience, or that of another, in the name of presence with the flow of life? How can we really start to embrace and be fully with the tragic and beautiful experience of being extraordinarily human?
I say bring it on, baby, and I won’t fight or tamper with our pain or joy. I want to taste the essence of it all. Let life burn a blazing fire in the delicacy of you and I… This won’t last long, nothing in this dream truly does…
Where is the reverence for the process?
Where is the recognition that imbalance
is the most sacred training ground?
We are here to learn,
to return to a life of walking
this earth as pure empty awareness
of the sacred nature of it all…
Emptiness does not mean devoid
of existence or substance.
Emptiness is experienced as a lack of
rigid, changeless, or essential identity.
Emptiness is fluidity
and spontaneous arising
It is authenticity.
It is compassion.
All is Empty.
Are we aware of the essential emptiness
of this play of consciousness
we call life?
Are we aware of ourselves
as full embodiments of the sacred;
as songs of dancing light
within the womb of our great Mother;
always flawless expressions
of universal Being?
Where is the reverence?
Where is the acceptance
of others as they are right now?
Where is the love
for who we are right now?
We can never measure
the grace of another.
I so often see “spiritual practitioners”
dedicated to awakening,
yet they become obsessed
with an individual path
in which they achieve
and mark themselves more
powerful, wise, or awake
than other beings…
We are never more “distant” or “close”
to enlightenment or liberation.
Some may appear to
more closely resemble kindness
or generosity or connection,
but wisdom is in the void
where arrogance and knowing
previously perceived reality
as something to analyze or accomplish or escape.
Wisdom is knowing we can never truly know
anything at all.
It is playfulness.
It is gentleness.
It is love.
There is no way to measure
closeness or distance to “achievement”
because there is no achievement,
nor such thing as distance or lack thereof
from the very Essence of all.
There is no end-goal
apart from You, right now as You are.
Degrading or dehumanizing another
as though you could be more beautiful
will only ever result in blindness
to your own humanity;
to the perfection of all your imperfection.
There is a pathless path.
Where is the reverence for each other?
Where is the reverence for ourselves?
Where is the reverence for Now?
“We rise by the support of the same ground that trips us.”
“You don’t find wholeness until you’re ready to be broken.
Sometimes the spiritual search for oneness becomes a search for sameness. The thing we have in common is our diversity… When we accept that everything is different we begin to see the oneness of life.”
-Bernie Glassman on Bearing Witness at Auschwitz
I ask to be spoken to
in the hollowness of my ears
to be captivated and set free
all at once
in the presence of another,
in the presence of Me
For I see we live this life seamlessly
and I can experience You
while You enjoy me…
But for this to be
a truly meaningful affair
I must open my senses to You
to see all that is really here.
Everything. Everyone. Everywhere.
Wrapped into the textured
space of this moment
in this delicious happening
is the resurrection of the lotus
from deep within the mud…
Fractals create their essence within
the unfolding being beyond
existence and lack thereof-
A spontaneous play of endless change
of intimacy and intricacy
and calls made in journey
back to orgasmic ecstatic
re-immersion of souls
in keen contrast with control and roles
to the rise of remembering
You and I dance entranced,
liberated by this one glance
we fall with no direction into
One Love, One Being, One Bliss.
Do I allow myself
to be nourished by the food I take in
through mouth, eyes, and spirit…
to be supported by the divine Mother
effortlessly bearing my body’s stride…
to be fulfilled in embracing another
or feeling the sweet treasure of embracing myself…
Do I allow myself
to feel the sweetness of this life
the ordinary magic I so often starve for…
The heart space is only truly alive when it is empty;
empty of harshness and judgment and paralyzing fear
just as the lungs can only inspire life from the heavens
if they release the air that has been harvested already
Do I allow myself to be hollow
to be the space of fluent giving and receiving?
What happens when I allow my heart to be nourished
and sing the tune of my innermost being?
What happens when I sweetly embrace all I resist most,
and free myself and all others – even if just for a moment – from the grip of confusion and suffering?
Do I allow the walls to fall
the paradoxes to unravel
the stories to speak themselves into the abyss from which they came…
Do I allow?