A photographer captured…

8 02 2017

 

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Creation gifts me –

I do not know why I deserve to be such a recipient.

From the expansive waves of Blue Ridge Mountains to

an iris’ intricate design.

Moments of Essence kiss me daily.

 

I am gifted by what I have no claim upon.

I have no commentary other than it is gift –

not to be selfishly guarded;

not to be kept in cellophane wrapping – saved for another day.

 

Still –

I desire to remain attached to these moments;

This deep beauty;

This unnamable peace;

I want this palpable Essence to linger on my tongue;

 

I want to settle here;

abide here;

build a monument;

hold onto it;

capture it.

 

So I raise my Nikon and from a 52mm sphere

I try to capture these measureless moments;

knowing, intuitively, that the “trying” is energy displaced.

Essence cannot be possessed, held on to, captured –

we cannot enslave Essence.

She is gift – ever present – woven intricately into our being.

 

Yet, I am stirred deeply –

life’s meaning whispered to me on a moment’s breath.

That oneness with the One permeates me endlessly,

my mind cannot comprehend.

 

I lower my “moment-capturing-device”,

take a deep breath,

and lean into the trust that Essence is already stirring within me –

each moment.

 

Maybe I am the one needing to be captured?

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We are one

31 01 2017

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We are one.

From childhood, my faith has taught me so.

Is this not true?

 

Everyone belonging to an all-embracing Truth –

A Truth human expression cannot contain?

Isn’t this Truth true in spite of my faith?

 

We are one.

Why do these three words raise defensive walls?

Why do they scare us so?

 

Fear mixed with pride – our ego’s addictive elixir;

an opportunist ego’s playground –

serving it to preserve power;

injecting it to manipulate;

a way to sustain control…

 

but not The Way.

 

Still, we chase the god of “better than”

devising decrees of divisiveness ;

forging “us versus them” perimeters –

it’s easier not knowing another’s story;

defining others with broad strokes –

it’s more convenient painting with a bigger brush I suppose;

manipulating foundational concepts to create fabricated walls.

Why are we afraid of what is different? of what is other?

 

Then do we not believe what we claim within our faith?

What we say is Truth?

 

We are one.

This is celebration worthy!

 

We are one.

Created by the Creator;

created within Mystery;

created from Love to love;

created uniquely… out of Hope;

created from the One;

created as one.

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Night Sky

23 12 2016

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It is within night’s darkness that light is manifested most clearly.

Lying down, faces gazing toward the starred-black dome;

the Presence of Slowness washes over us;

stillness bathes us;

cicadas sing love songs to our soul.

 

This is where we are truly known.

This is where we truly know.

 

Yet, there will be times when this same darkness

seems like an endless cavern extinguishing our faith;

the air feels heavy with shadows;

our imminent demise gathers momentum;

we lie in fetal position;

we bathe in fear and anxiety;

faces buried in the sanctuary of a pillow;

hawking voices sing songs of hopelessness . . .

 

The invitation remains –

be still.

The essence of our being will not be decimated.

We will not lose ourselves, despite ego’s contrary voice.

Let another carry Light’s hope when you cannot.

 

Trying to escape –

moving so quickly and carelessly in such darkness –

is much too dangerous.

We will remain unchanged.

 

But in the remaining –

within the darkness, while our spirit-eyes adjust,

ready yourself to welcome evidence of Light;

the glimmer of Loves soft Light;

the warmth of Love beside us in blinding darkness;

in what seems a vast emptiness.

 

We will begin to discover ourselves – our true, authentic selves.

Born out of the darkness in which we sit;

created by Love that embraces us… always.

 

This is where we are closest to Knowing.

This is where we are fully known.

 

Looking up or down, then, it matters not;

Light is . . .

in the darkest night;

in the brightest day;

in each of us –

always . . .

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The box . . .

2 12 2016

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When I was young, I was given a box.

 

I played with it;

stepped in and out of it;

became comfortable with it.

 

One day, why I do not know,

I stepped in and did not leave.

Maybe it was fear personified:

inadequacies perceived;

incompetencies feared;

self-loathing lived.

A provisional assurance held me.

A conditional certainty seduced me.

 

An unspoken deal was in the making:

safe, dualistic walls in exchange for vision;

security if I bowed down to fear;

dogmatism for freedom;

self-worth tethered to established compliance.

 

The cubed interior became my reality –

The world outside, too threatening.

To Fear, I surrendered.

Truth encased in a box –

wearing denial and self-righteousness like they were all the rage.

Living off of anxiety’s finite energy

draining;

shifting;

conditional;

confining;

excluding.

 

Unexpectedly,  profound pain blew in like north winds;

a deep chill, tinged with icy, old wounds;

chaotic cracking threatened my contained domain.

 

optic scales began to fall . . .

Who would of thought pain would be my salvation?

 

Death loosed bridled questions.

My way of singularity threatened;

rips in boxed-corners;

binary constructs crumbled;

my small truth deconstructed;

satisfactory answers elusive;

a one-sided deal broken.

 

Breathless.

Air expended in my limited reality –

slowly dying by Fear’s exhaled poison.

 

Now emptied –

coming to the end of my created truth –

Truth revealed –

an invitation to truly live.

 

Now emptied –

Pain, joy, grief, hope co-existing –

a dualistic mind cannot contain the fullness of the heart;

Paradox’s invitation to authentic living.

 

Now emptied –

Of constructed truth;

Of fear and anxiety’s paralyzing clutter;

Of a contained god;

Of me.

 

Now emptied –

Space for conversation – spirit to Spirit;

between me and you.

Sacred space created.

 

Now emptied –

liberated . . .

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Today . . .

9 11 2016

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Today –

when it feels like diversity wanes;

when it seems like divisiveness reigns . . .

 

Today –

when there is a Grand Canyon schism between joy and sadness;

when anger and rage lace our language . . .

 

Today –

when systems enmesh us;

when relationships are broken;

when fear simmers beneath our soul . . .

 

 

Rain falls and nourishes the earth.

Light seeps through clouds and mist.

Meadow seeds sustains a sparrow just feet away.

Music that soothed my soul yesterday, soothes it today.

And the Truth that created us from the One, is the Truth that holds us as one.

 

To breathe in Love;

to breathe out Love;

to be embraced by Love;

to embrace with Love –

this is our invitation.

It has been.

It is at this very moment.

It will be tomorrow.

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“Slow down boys . . .”

5 11 2016

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“Slow down boys” . . .

life lesson –

from father to sons;

from one whose dying, now fully embraced.

 

Shadows, darkness and death open us this way –

to Truth’s presence;

to Truth’s embrace;

to Truth’s perspective;

to edit Truth no more.

 

“Slowness” – Truth’s way – calls to our soul;

inviting us away from a veiled, matrix-like life –

deliverance from busy minds;

exoneration from “living up to” and “keeping up with”;

liberation from judging ourselves;

curative for the cancer of shame;

cleansed from the addiction of controlling what is uncontrollable;

awakened from a schedule-induced coma;

unshackled from haunting failures;

free from fear.

 

Inviting us into freedom –

freedom to embrace who we know we are;

freedom to nourish who we know we are becoming;

freedom to cherish paradox and uncertainty – fearlessly;

freedom to welcome failure as a daughter of wholeness;

freedom to wait – not sprinting past Spirit;

freedom to just be in the Presence of Slowing…

 

We can only be right here, right now.

It is all that we are given.

So be right here, right now…

fully living;

wholly living;

whether in pain or joy;

whether in grief or blessing;

whether in angst or peace;

whether in dancing or stillness;

whether in paradox or certainty;

in Love –

always in Love.

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solemn waters

7 10 2016

 

 

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We are the flow.

We are the stones.

Beautiful together…

 

I sit beside a mountain river,

water singing over stones –

settling in . . .

Quiet, but not by ear;

aware of Presence opening me.

 

Creation becomes my teacher:

Flow – water’s perpetual movement.

Its displacement against stone

creates the chant that brings me to the threshold of peace.

Stone – obstacles, water crashing against mass . . .

Sacred abrasion.

 

The story of the flow;

the story of the stone.

Being as they are;

being where they are.

Speaking my story;

illuminating my story.

 

Living life – my flow;

acknowledging the stones:

broken relationships;

debilitating anxiety;

paralyzing fear;

devastating depression;

elevated ego;

valueless self-esteem;

accumulated loss –

my obstacles.

 

Am I creating such threshold melodies

for those who walk beside my waters?

Being as I am?

Being where I am?

Being true to my story?

 

We are the flow . . .

We are the stones . . .