Sunday, January 17, 2016

I don't know…the dance of creation

What is life?  The mind is eager to regurgitate its many "known" and cocky answers to that question.  But they don't hold much water, they leak all over the place and we spend a lot of energy trying to patch them up.  The honest response is, "I don't know".

There is an experience and something being experienced.
There is a sense of an experiencer.

Wisdom rests far less on what is known and far more on the unknown.

Okay, great, nice thought or unsettling thought, but we aren't interested in another philosophy to organize our life around.  That's more of the same.  How on gods green earth do we live in uncertainty?  And not living with uncertainty like living with a rarely seen, and thoroughly disliked house guest who eats all the food in the fridge and pisses on the toilet seat, but like… holy shit the house is gone and the ground is gone and what the holy hell is going on around here…again and again.

It's a bit terrifying really.  But it doesn't need one jot of my energy to make it so.

No matter how much we invest in elaborate buffering beliefs, we don't really know anything beyond what is arising right now and even that is experienced rather than known.

Herein lies the invitation… this moment, exactly as it is and YOU exactly as you are…creation dancing.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Aunt Bertie

What is death?
I don't know.
It is not what we tend to think it is.  Of that I am certain.

On December 29th, 2015 my beloved god-mother/teacher/sister/friend/kindred spirit/aunt/soul-mate left her body.  Her spirit, always so strong, luminous and buoyant, had simply outgrown the body, like a caterpillar does its cocoon.  I celebrate her transition and my heart selfishly grieves.  I have often noticed when lovers part, that it is the one left who grieves the hardest, surrounded as they are by the reminders of a life created and shared together.  

Remembering….
…Looking through the eyes of my two year old self at a white haired woman so filled with magic and laughter that all the world's petty concerns bow before her.  She talks of fairies and angels and elves when all the adults around me talk of war and money and concern.  Her world and my world…same, same.
…A boom of thunder forces me into bed beside her where we listen to rain and she explains the nature of light and its booming bravado at high speeds.  Suddenly thunderstorms are friendly and full of magic. 
...Parents fight and divorce, a young life in chaos... her arms and home are solid, unwavering and constant.  
...Holidays highlighted by farm home packages wrapped in glittering tissue paper and angels, smelling of home (or musty if you possess less refined olfactory sensibilities).  
...Apprenticing for years alongside her, learning the power of thought, word, feeling and meditation. Immersed in metaphysics, astrology, angels, ascended masters and more until those no longer satisfy. Then she smiles knowingly and says, "This has been my path Angelina. Yours will take you higher my bright and shining one!", certain as she always was that I was destined for soul greatness.  

She has been my north star, my constant, and I have always been her beloved Angelina.  She told me she would not leave until I was ready.  She waited.  And when my life bloomed into fullness, I was ready and the butterfly took flight. 

I feel her now, as I write, her arms around me in an embrace so wide that all the universe dances in her love.  Light waves of grief thunder across the sky of my love, but I'm not afraid.  The salty tears, like rain, cascade down the windows of my heart, not because she is gone but because the little girl who lives in me still, can never again climb into bed beside her and feel the warmth of her body as we listen, together, for the heart beat of the world.

I love you Aunt Bertie, beyond time and space, beyond thought and belief.  There aren't words sufficient to express my gratitude and so I will do, what I have always done,  I will shine.  I will love.  I will live and I will continue to see through spirit eyes… a world luminous and full of love. 

And I will always be your bright and shining one.

Friday, January 1, 2016

2016

The first day of the new year has a peculiar effect on me.
While people busy themselves with resolutions born from holiday excess, I ruminate on the nature of time.  I know we all live by it and yet complicit agreement doesn't make it so. Time is a human contrivance and convenience and although it may be necessary for practical purposes, our reliance on it obscures a genuine engagement with the uncertainty and robust vulnerability inherent in this moment, and this one, and this one, ad infinitum.
Sitting on a chair worn from the weight of countless asses and working at a porcelain table whose dings and dents describe meals and gatherings, I inhale the sweet scent of white lilies, a gesture of love from my treasured mate and peer through glass at a snow covered yard hiding countless spring flowers yet to emerge. I breathe, I live, I am.  And the grand joke is that all off it…the grand sum total of life… offers up a singular invitation, in infinite forms, that you can only hear in this moment and this one and this one, ad infinitum.
For a moment, no more, drop past and future and meet life in all it's immediacy, as it is, with the full weight of what you are IN THIS MOMENT.  The only moment there ever is.  In the face of that…what is there to resolve?
Happy New Year again and again, until the end of time.