Centered in heart
between sky and earth
between inner and outer
in the sweet spot
of Soul expressing
There in all consciousness
the song burst forth
in all of joyousness
and lit up the universe
— a beacon of Love
Celebrating
a consipicuous moment
of revelation and understanding
he raised up on tip-toe
extended his arms
and shouted, “Yes!”
It was enough
OK, so this new client wants some new thing, this technology, or that newest buzzword. One more time, I jump on the “can do” train and spend countless evenings studying something new so I can whip it out as if it was there in my pocket all along.
I have to admit, from the outside, I would admire my “Hutzpah,” however, from the inside I am reminded once more of my humanity, and the inability of the body to go for too many days in a row driven by some inner demon with a craving for self-dis-approval. It probably sounds painful. That’s because it probably is. Actually, in fact, it is.
If I counted all the things that I know that I can do, one would use up all the fingers and toes of a small city in no time. The problem with that is that the time allotted for a lifetime is finite, and if one spends their spot of time available working on all of the things possible, then no shiny ONE thing is developed.
It seems I must remind myself that “can do” does not make “must do.”
On my wall in my studio, I have a quote, supposedly from the Buddha,
“No one purifies another. Never neglect your work for another’s however great his need. Your work is to discover your work, and then with all your heart to give yourself to it.”
What is your work? That is a question that I ask myself frequently. My heart can only whisper love notes from the truth and grace can only bless my bent head. And so I seek.
Yet, all the while, my mind lingers in the hallways, seeking answers in the darkened maze.
Discover my work, and give myself to it. . .
After all of these years, I have discovered something remarkable. Joy is independent of worldly experiences. Certainly happiness seems to be tied to attitude, and circumstance more oft than not, however, joy in it’s pure Spirit presence in the heart form, is not. Rather Joy is connected to grace and it bubbles up a spring in my heart, transforms even the mundane or the profane into the truth, into pure grace.
I am blessed in this life, I think. When I come to lean on Spirit, when I forget my own little thoughts, I am engulfed by grace, I become joy. Transparent, let me be transparent, a window to the soul, a window to the light, a candle in the night.
I heard him singing
the sound drifting
through the walls
with that distorted echo
that happens sometimes.
“Ah!”
I thought, “he is alive.”
He is a man
with song
In the quiet moments,
my Spirit
shouts in tender whisper
“Life is a miracle!”
It’s then I realize
the gratitude
for it all
just welling up
like a bubbling spring
One
being one
moment one
day in the sun
singular many
single multitude
Solo experience
in a crowd of one
people one
person one
being one
YEAR THREE
Last time, the story
seemed a little
different, yet as we
rounded the corner
of today's path
it seemed to be pretty
darned familiar territory
Possum
just playing
made squirrel noises
in the bush
He had to chuckle to himself
when thinking
of that poor confused
two-legged looking up
in the tree
Clearing the mind
turtle sat in silence
“Aum”
Even while little anties crawled
across her face
she tarried still
in the arms of peace
