What is Gone

A moment’s ponder  in the silence of what is gone,

Was it simply a release, a letting go

Perhaps a choice to take a different path.

The earth tremors when mountains are born

Yet softened quivers with the petal’s touch.

Release or choice, no matter really

The path awaits

I can see the mountains

The petals caress my feet.

Stillness Standing

I will not stand my ground. I will stand quietly in Love so that even the deer have no fear and eat in the midst of Love's stillness.

A common phrase I say and hear, "In the end....." There is no end, only Now. The beginning, the end, the middle and beyond what even my little brain can comprehend, all rest in Love's tapestry of Now.

In the pre-dawn silence, standing beneath the stars, two deer came into the yard, so very close and had a breakfast of bird seed. Our stillness whispered, "A tear is but the heart's caress upon the face so that the smile of Love may drink."

One

I intend to... be grateful that for all the storms perceived and felt by all...there is still only One Force, One Light, One Power greater than all... Love.

BE IN G

When I walk or sit with nature, or simply look out the window, touch one of my feathers or rocks, I have no thought, no conscious direction to do, be, see or feel. I am simply present, open and withIN gratitude. I do not respond I become the response to all about me and flowing into me. The response is gratitude. This morning the whisper gratitude IS Love, Love IS Gratitude and you ARE always IN Nature... BE IN G.

 Confetti Clouds 

The need to get lost 

No thought only my senses stand 

Within the embrace of Home. 

Where do thoughts fly to 

When tree’d arms toss them away 

Mental order now confetti clouds? 

My trunk to climb yours 

My body tucked in your arms 

Watching confetti clouds fly.

Relation

Life gifted the first snowfall to come at night.  For some the Breath of Life was thundering in hurricane winds. I stood in the quiet stillness of snow falling wondering the sight come morning. To stand in the pre-dawn hours and see the little snowfall and hear the thundering silence, sweet mercy such a gift.

This morning I shall serve Life coffee in bed. An act of love that explodes my little heart. To see Life in relationship, sharing, and anticipation. To "surprise" Life with gifts of delight and hear the Heart of Life sigh with Love and a smile.

A thread of hot chocolate and a splash of yellow

And sometimes when I ponder that teachings and inner knowing that I am here, by choice, to create, to discern the vibrations that create and change myself, the earth, and others it is almost too much for me to comprehend.  Then to think that as I learn, discern and create I am likewise expanding and enhancing All that is, sweet mercy, my little heart explodes.

As I was so pondering, and the winter clouds struggled to breach the mountains, how my thoughts, my vibrations, my energy creates and changes, draws and manifests, I stood at the window holding my cup of hot chocolate. There on the feeder was a bird never seen. A beautiful midnight black bird with one splash of yellow on its wing. I smiled in wonder and awe and whispered, "How my friend did you find my little feeder?"  And my pondering heart giggled and the Universe smiled.

The Heart's Magnet

This morning, holding the mala (prayer beads) their texture seemed different in my hands. As I do in nature I listened to see if there was a whisper.  My heart quietly whispered "see and touch each thought, moment, step, breath and person as a bead on the mala." Each bead on the mala gently and sacredly held and followed by another and another. All connected with a single thread. Each guiding my breath, prayer to the next, each bead a vibration containing the bead and space in between. And when the circle is complete, I begin again.  To see life as connected, sacred, within and without.

This afternoon I went walking by the lake.  As I walked, whispering the names of those dear to my heart, my own version of walking meditation, upon the lake was a flock of white birds floating that made my whispered prayers gasp. I had never seen white birds upon the lake and scampered to the shore. A bit distant for these poor eyes and suddenly they turned their bodies - white pelicans.  The first ever flock I'd seen.

I sat on the shore in wonder and awe as the wind gathered the ripples and sent them to the shore.  Bringing my eyes from the flock to the shore... drifting upon the ripples a white feather made its way to me.  As did another.  With sweet tears and gratitude I gathered them in.  Thanking the wind, the water and the pelicans, walking back the ripples sent more.

To see Life as sacred, connected and One draws forth compassion, Love and the willingness to be vulnerable with all of Life, including ourselves.  That can be quite daunting.  Holding the feathers to my heart, each beat a prayer bead one following another, I pondered perhaps the more daunting task is to truly believe the Sweet Hands of Life not only know what we need, but can and will direct the wind and waves to draw all to our feet, our hearts and our souls.

Old Fashion

In a world of texting, internet, Twitter and all, sometimes it is nice to go back to an old fashion way.

To Hear the Hawk's Wings

In the absolute stillness of a windless path to look up and not needing ears or eyes, to hear the wings of a hawk soaring and see the earth, I laughed with the freedom of knowing I chose to be here.  This body, time and space were my choice.  I chose to co-Create. I chose Love.

A while back I got lost in the mountains. Passing an amazing tree- for the fourth time- thinking I was heading back, I realized I was soooooooo lost. As no one ever knows my coming and going, I sat by the tree and thought, ‘ok, now what’ and then giggled with delight.

  I did not poof here into this life.  There is no puppeteer holding the strings. I am not lost or powerless waiting for instructions. I chose this body, time and space. Like a candle, my Light is not separate from the Source from which the wick was lit and yet it moves within this unique melting of wax, wick and the Source’s flame, never separated yet moving forth. There is no mystery to unravel, save the mystery of wonder, awe and beauty.  I do not have to wait for instructions.  And in that little truth I have my freedom.  I chose to be here. This body, time and space were my choice. I chose to co-Create.  .  I chose TO BE.  TO BE…here.   I chose Love.  

A Life

Emotions, the body and other's choices are but teachers we reflect upon, learn from and then move on.  Death, either of the body, intent or the spirit is not an option for everything transitions from one state to another.  Quitting, ceasing, or putting on hold are like death in that they are not options either.  Essence will transition - the choice is Now...or when.

To stare down eye to eye the charnled ground, affirms the power of choice.  The Essence of Now - to BE more than just Alive ...... To BE A Life.

Changing the Directions

A windy walk by the lake just as the sun peeked above the mountains.  As I walked I could feel the movement of my body, like a ship in the sea, meeting and re-directing the wind. A leaf fell straight down from a tree but was redirected when it plopped against my cheek.  I confess it became a game.  Turning my head, lifting my arm and even walking sideways to feel the change created.  I am not sure "who" changed "whom" but both the wind and my body, my heart and little spirit changed.  To think every time I move....I change the universe. Wind that would have been going in one direction was now going in another.  Quantum physics (which my little brain cannot grasp) talks about the energy we project upon the earth and towards each other.   May the energy and direction I create be that of compassion, understanding, forgiveness, gratitude, humility and courage.

In each moment, you are changing the universe

Take off

It matters not from where or how I learn to fly, to unfold my wings and take flight to whatever is to be my destiny. It matters only that I unfold, take off.... and fly.

I want to remember the feeling of flying taking off from my knees.

That simple

Joy.

That's it.

That simple.

Eraser of the Heart

A tree I had not met, a rock or feather I had not found and a path that I had not walked called me to come and find.  May my life always be a treasure hunt to see each moment as a wonder and surprise. Discovering the treasures awaiting me and leaving my own for others to find.  

My Story is not written by the hands of others nor the physical. My Self's story is written by the heart. I can tell you the story others would tell of me. Or I can tell you the Story I know. These scriches I write tell the latter, each word an eraser so that only one Story my little heart knows. So off to nature I went to find the tree, rock or feather and the path. To sit with the paper of the soul, the eraser of the Heart, and to discover the treasures waiting, leaving a prayer here and there that others would find what simple gifts I have left for them to find.

Moving From

A "duh" moment of laughter. Waking up before dawn and my first thought "I need to go and meditate" As if the space and time between my bed, waking and altar were insignificant and not part of Now .

  My little altar, nature, sitting by a tree, walking, and the precious things I can see and read bring such joy, peace, laughter and love. I would find myself going "to" them. To experience and BE and know myself as the altar, nature, the sitting, the walking, the words of Love, Hope, Life allows me to move FROM and Into Life not "to". I am the center and entrance to the labyrinth of Life and Love all of these are the gentle curves and turns giving pause to reflect, give thanks, and expand like ripples outward, growing, understanding, developing, unfolding and embracing all others. BEing Now I move From I am and ripple and turn moving "to."

Affirming

I struggle so to figure it all out, to understand, imagine, grow and become the soft that is in my heart. It is a tender sweet little heart that easily sheds a tear to see the beauty, simplicity and sweet Hands of Life.  I do believe. I believe there is hope. I believe there is goodness. I believe we are each unique and placed here for a purpose that only we can fill. I believe like a giant jig saw puzzle the absence of our piece, our heart our purpose will be noticed and felt. I believe the Heart can transform, not scar, any experience. I believe that people gifted into our lives and friendship, partners, and lovers are as treasured as the gift of breath - without them the spirit suffocates. I believe that when we believe nothing can stop us. I believe in compassion that sees the beauty, love, potential and wonder in the other's eyes and then sees the reflection is in truth his or herself. I believe that nothing is ordinary, all a gift, a wonder a treasure to see and feel. I believe love can translate any language and gift restoration to any sense of loss. I believe in the earth, nature, the dance of the sun and moon. I believe presence with and for another completes the dint in the image of the heart. I believe people filled with passion, purpose, dreams and abundant abundance are no different than I. I believe we can heal, ourselves and others. I do believe. I do.

Adjusting the Sails

I weigh 80 pounds. The bag of birdseed clumped in the cart weighs 50 pounds waiting to go into the car. The wind is blowing over 30 mph. Need I say more......  Sometimes the burdens or things we reach for simply require leveraging the wind that buffets.  And a gentleman getting out of his truck laughing and bellowing out "That's my girl!" makes the adjustment even sweeter.

Soft Strength

and she danced......

A giggle picture, not art, but it is the dance. My right stutter hand held the left and taught her how to hold a brush.  May we all create the art of finding soft strength.

“There is some kiss we want with

our whole lives, the touch of

spirit on the body. Seawater

begs the pearl to break its shell. ....

…. Breathe into me.  Close the language- door and open the love window. The moon

won't use the door, only the window. “

~Rumi

Unseen's Dance

My right hand for 57 of my 58 years has grasped and carried things, written stories, poetry, and even my name. The last year a tremor has made those treasures all but impossible and it remains hidden in my pocket to keep others from staring. As my little heart unfolds, my spirit rises and dispels what the mind sees, I look at my hand and see not the tremor but her precious heart. And so a little paint set, sitting on a path against a tree, I whispered softly, "Dance."  And a little hand and wings soared from the mountain top to the clouds. A giggle spirit danced atop the lake below. 

Celebrate the glorious perfection that IS.

Creating Creation

The Essence of Love and being a Lover is creation. Two BEcome and create a new One. Essence is creation, creating, throwing off the veils and immersion into a dance, touch, and presence such that each knows the heart of the other, their fragrance, their breath, their walk, voice, and swims beneath the color of their eyes. Intimacy. If the Essence of Love and BEing a Lover is creation I look around and ponder why I withhold or feel timid about creating? I can say I am not an artist but it is not the "product" of creation that creates intimacy it is the discovery, the movement, the release, the dance. The Essence of Love and Lovers is creation, drawing, painting, sculpting, gardening, writing, music and dancing naked before the Other as the two merge into One in the act of Creating. I remember one day in nature when my body and spirit BEcame totally breathless and I whispered, 'let me not have to wait until death to merge into thee' and I felt the Essence of nature. I release today my broken eyes, tremored hand I hide in my pocket and judgement of the outcome and BEcome Life's Lover...creating, creation, intimate Lovers dancing with unfettered hearts. I do not have to wait for perfection, Life, my Lover, calls Today, Now and I will dance with the abandonment of a Lover whispering Yes.

Perhaps nothing strikes fear in our hearts as much as trying to create something...poetry, drawing, arranging flowers, painting, sculpting, playing an instrument or singing. The world has taught us that "art" is judged. But if we quiet ourselves, can we not feel the urge to burst out in some act of creation? It is not the outcome, it is the Dance, the Essence of release. BEcome Life's Lover and dance in the heart of creation. Only, Life, the creating Lover will see. Create.

Hospitable Welcome

It was almost 7 a.m., 31 degrees, light freezing mix falling. The sun's stretch hidden by the sudden appearance of winter. It was my time to walk. I had been pondering what I would do this winter, caught in the trap of mind fearing time. There is no time in Life, no tomorrow wrapped in fear. Life is timeless, fearless and offers faces and doors of discovery, dance, anticipation and gifts of surprise and wonder. I could "think" of all the reasons to postpone my walk or not even walk, or I could melt into Life, embrace, open the the door wide and say "Come in" and "Welcome." I opened the door and let Life stand between "in" and "hospitable" BEcoming "IN ~ Hospitality."

I opened the door. The clouds came and sat at the mountain's table. The sun touched the tips of autumn's trees making them look like hundreds of paint brushes dripping with the palette's paint upon the blank canvas of the sky... and I walked into and with Life.

Seasons' Paths

Yesterday upon the earth I sat, my back supported by a tree, thinking my body could go no further. All around me I saw weathered rock sculpted like art, young trees that bent their trunks to find the sliver of sun between the canopies of older trees, fallen trees leaning against another and thriving. Even the path had changed from the wind the night before. This morning I fell into a fit of giggles as I looked at the thermostat and the same drop in temperature I would have danced to in the summer now made the house feel cold, yet the "drop" was the same. Years move me forward and deceive me into thinking life is linear and "progressive." Nature knows no end, does not expect to end. Even the smallest life form with the shortest life span explodes into life without thought that it will not continue. I shall grow and "age" with the seasons and their rhythms, knowing each season's wisdom, change, twists, turns, quietness, rebirth, renewal, the paths that suddenly become visible and their dance. As T.S. Elliot said, "There is only the dance." Hello.... I am 235 seasons dancing into forever naturally.

To not let myself or the world paint a linear path. We are an ocean in a dewdrop (Rumi). A "creation" which is truly both a noun (present state) and a verb (constantly creating, Flow).

Circle of Breath

A morning walk, the first with a hoody sweatshirt and sweatpants for warmth. Left before the sun fully stretched and watched her as she pulled back the night's quilt from the mountain. And with the Sun's rising, I saw my breath.  With each exhale outward I walked forward into its glistening dance.  Something inside whispered, "Remember this."  In my meditations I focus upon the breath, the Circle of Life.  This morning Life gifted the Gift of walking inside the circle and then dancing beyond. Love's Clarity

May you  know the stillness of your breath, see the Circle of Life and then walk into its Dance.

Backspaced

With a word or silence, a glance or turning away I give either Love or judgment, which is to say acceptance or rejection. Perhaps that is why busyness is a priority, and To Do lists the drivers, no time to notice the choice made.  Even technology can intensify the absence of the voice, the texture, the breath of the other, the time to write a complete word and sentence that lets you linger with the thought of the other, or it diminishes the physical other by putting them on pause to respond.  Technology gives a voice to my scriches but I know not where they go.  On both the macro and human level,  we've created ways to distance ourselves. Yet more and more books, programs, and get-a-ways are likewise created and purchased in answer to the longing “what is the meaning” or finding happiness or how to shut down and sleep.

There was a thread when I began but I've learned the art of backspacing. 

Alpha's Hearald

Perhaps so much of what I write paints and speaks of nature because without demands, expectations She opens her arms and bids us welcome to enter. The perfect Host all she has is ours, to whatever ability we have to accept. Even when taken in greed she still offers more.  Most religious figures, the poets and others all point to nature's simple grace and beauty.

Perhaps so much of what I write paints and speaks of nature who without a single word, from the beginning of beginnings, heralded the words.... "And the greatest of these is Love."

Perception.....Not

A year ago my wallet was stolen. For two months the world demanded I prove who I was. The remembrance still creates bone shiver. I knew who I was. I simply could not provide what the world needed to validate their perception.  I am aware of my wallet now. 

Sweet Hands of Life...to have the same Knowing and awareness of who I AM regardless of what the world sees, demands or expects. I am not a perception.

Summit's Path

I sat on a rock. It was not to be. I wanted so to return to the summit one more time before winter set in. I was as far as I could go. Sitting I remembered the view, standing on a boulder and my heart became breathless again.  And in my breathless joyful wonder the thread whispered, that the summit was still there. Because I did not arrive today, I still could remember, its essence had not changed.  A second thread quickly chimed that even if I had never seen the summit, its essence would still be there.  Suddenly an eagle screeched, and my body shivered to hear the sound again. This time the eagle was unseen. 

The mind would construct a world that says what cannot be seen, attained, touched or proven does not exist, or at the least, not for “me” – others perhaps.  Because we cannot reach the summit, it isn’t real or at least not for “me.”  The mind would even say the summit is off limits, frivolous, so many other important things to do, and yet it stands with foot worn path in plain view.

As I walked back I met a young couple who cheerfully said “Isn’t it amazing!” We shared a pause to gaze around and the young woman asked “Is it hard to reach?” I confess a laugh and a face size smile, “Not at all! Follow the path and listen for the eagle’s screech.”  Their faces lit up like kids at Christmas and we walked together going our separate ways.

The mind may construct but the Heart knows the Essence.  Our choice whether to follow the path and listen for the eagle’s screech or convince ourselves the summit doesn’t exist.

Nature Responds

And should I ever misbelieve that people, events or even my own misperceptions have the power to turn my Heart to stone..... Nature responds.

Harvest Pondered

I turn the calendar’s page and ponder the month.  October, the harvest month. Where we gather the hopes and dreams planted in the spring, patiently watched and prayed for during the summer.  A time to gather and work together. I ponder how communities of old would come together to bring in the harvest, always leaving some for those who had none and for nature’s own community to feast.  October, a time of anticipation.  And I recall the Hopi words of wisdom and look to the fields within my heart…. What shall be my harvest?  And what can I leave to give abundance to others? 

"You have been telling people that this is the Eleventh Hour, now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour. And there are things to be considered. . . . Where are you living? What are you  doing? What are your relationships? Are you in right relation? Where is your water? Know your garden. It is time to speak your truth. Create your community. Be good to each other. And do not look outside yourself for your leader. Then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, "This could be a good time! There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are being torn apart and will suffer greatly. Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water. And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey come to a halt. The time of the one wolf is over. Gather yourselves! Banish the word 'struggle' from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.

We are the ones we've been waiting for". ~ Hopi Indian Elder’s Prophecy