The Little Mermaid and Insight

Last night Owen, Mojo and I, went to see the upcoming Broadway musical, The Little Mermaid, at the Ellie Caulkins Opera House in Denver.
It was MAGNIFICENT. More than that, it was wonderful beyond words. The little girl in my heart, couldn't stop smiling and glowing. I recommend it to anyone who has the opportunity to see it.
On our way home, Owen and I got into a deep philosophical conversation. One thing led to another and I said that my deepest wish was to fully realize the truth that I am not a body, but an expression of all there is and realize it so much that all there is begins consciously breathing me (well that and getting to be a Mermaid). Owen said, "But Mom you can do that already". I laughed, assuming he was joking and he said, "No mom really. You just have to close your eyes and say I AM those things and think about them without thinking of anything else and for that moment you are what you are wishing for". Surprised, I smiled, "Yep, you're right son!" Then he said, "I think there is only one God and it breaks into millions and millions of pieces and a piece of God is in everything, rocks, trees, people, animals...even cars. You can talk to the God by opening your heart and a stream of spiritual light forms a connection between two hearts. You break that connection when you get angry at them." He went on for quite a while. None of these concepts are new. I am sure he has heard me tout similar philosophies at one point or another, but the fact remains that he digests, assimilates and reformulates them, each time coming up with something different and his own. Pretty cool.

Comments

FORGET ABOUT ‘HEALING’

Some days, you just have to forget about ‘healing’. You have to stop trying to feel better, trying to overcome your emotional wounds, or trying to be anywhere other than where you are. You have to embrace the day as it is. And you have to give yourself the most sacred permission of all: To shatter. To break. To be an ugly mess. To lean into a place of utter humility and powerlessness in yourself. To cry out to the heavens, “I can’t do this!” To admit utter defeat in the loss of the life you had imagined. To crumble to the ground, lonely and hopeless and profoundly ruined. To want to die, even. And there, in the darkest places, in the blackness of the underworld, you may begin to rediscover... life. And learn to love the beginnings. A sacred reboot: A single breath. The way the sun warms your face. The sound of a tiny bird singing in the tree over there. The raw simplicity of a single moment of human existence. Hell has been transmuted, thr...

a story recently shared by a friend

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love. Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment. When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help. Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, "Richness, can you take me with you?" Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you." Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!" "I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered. Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you." "Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself...

He is no longer here

Another day has begun. I have lit my candles and incense. Sat in silence. Worked up a sweat at the gym. Eaten breakfast. Straightened house. Answered mail and dropped my man off at the airport. It is eight in the morning and the world stirs with wakefulness. The sun climbs in the sky. The birds sing. The squirrels chip and chur in tree branches. A dog barks. And I look with dull eyes at the long day ahead, contemplating a single phrase, "My father is dead." What strange words. My father is dead. The man has been leaving for as long as I can remember and yet his death robs the wind from my lungs. My chest throbs and throat tightens. He isn't coming back. My mom and dad had slipped out of one another's lives before I'd barely begun mine. Two weekends a month my brothers and I stood on a saggy porch, bags packed, eager for our hero to arrive in his old blue Ford to pick us up. We vibrated with hope...

angelbirdflies

Search This Blog