breath . . .

30 03 2017

Swamp Trail B&W

It was 2:30 a.m. when I arrived;

just hours from her last breath.

 

Her chest rising and falling in nomadic rhythm –

a mirror of the relationship we shared – joys, struggles, oblique love:

some known;

some unknown;

some still to be discovered.

 

She did not move, eyes closed –

peaceful other than her dissonant breaths;

a peace that had alluded her in her living.

 

But not quite yet –

her journey toward Union,

still earth-tethered.

 

So we sat vigil . . .

waiting . . .

What else could we do?

Just being with . . .

Being with us.

 

Silence interrupted by occasional conversation –

with each other – seeking some normalcy;

with mom – seeking to help an emancipation,

“It’s okay to go mom.

We love you.

I know dad is getting excited.

Your family is waiting…”

 

When breath, life, and love

becomes so clearly focused,

I do not know what else to trust but Intimacy.

I do not know another to trust

but the One in which we all have breath.

 

To live within this kind of trust is a constant craving.

 

Then, watching, I saw mom begin to trust the One holding her.

Breathing rhythmically now.

Breathing with the One.

Slowly bringing her breath into One.

Until her body had no need for earth’s confining atmosphere.

 

Now her spirit breathes pure Ruah;

breathing in the One who first gives breath.

Now the “i” breathes within “I AM”.

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a query deep in the woods…

5 03 2017

little-river_rocks

I came upon a query deep in the woods. . .

deep within me –

“What is it, God, would You have me do with my life?”

I heard from among the trees a silent whisper,

“Love Me.”

 

My desire and ambition,

not trusting the Truth in the whisper,

pressed for a process –

“God. How do I love You?”

 

From the heart of the woods I heard,

“Be like that stream, there.

It just flows –

a flow that will make it to the sea some day.”

 

“Be like that rock, there.

It just is . . .

hosting life – busy ants, silent moss –

offering itself.”

 

From I AM, I breathed a resonant breath of invitation. . .

just be with Love already within

loving who I am;

loving where I am;

Loving I AM.





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?





We are one

31 01 2017

red-tulips-highlight        yellow-tulip-highlight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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Masks

25 01 2017

masks

There they are – laid before me at the beginning of another day.

A decision to make,

or maybe I’ll carry them all:

My “I’m fine” mask so I may cover my pain.

My “excessive pride” mask so I may cover my insecurities.

My “I’m in control” mask so I may cover my fear that I am not.

My “I’m the victim” mask so I may cover my self-doubt.

My “self-deprecating humor” mask so I may cover my self-loathing.

 

There are others on my crowded shelf.

The morning sun hitting each just so,

with a comfortable, warm enticement;

inviting me to a day’s worth of simulated security.

 

I suspect you may have some on your shelf too.

 

I would hate to see you cover the beautiful face that is you.

The you that was given to this world.

The you, if covered, would make this world less.

The you we need so desperately.

 

I wonder what would be different if

I trusted these thoughts stirring in my soul and now exposed?

I wonder how a summer breeze feels on skin rather than against plastic?

I wonder?

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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

cropped-friends-chairs.jpg

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:

Black and white walls of safety in exchange for my vision;

security if I bowed down to fear;

dogmatism for my freedom;

self-worth tethered to established compliance.

 

The cubed interior became my reality –

The world outside, too threatening;

to Fear, I bowed low.

truth encased in a box –

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

 

Living off of fear’s finite energy

draining;

shifting;

exhaustible;

conditional;

narrowing;

exclusive.

 

Then, abrupt, profound pain blew in like north winds –

a deep chill, tinged with icy old wounds;

 

optic scales began to fall . . .

Who would of thought pain would be my salvation?

 

Death loosed “off-limit” questions.

My way of singularity threatened;

rips in my boxed-corners;

binary constructs crumbled;

my small truth deconstructed.

 

Emptied –

satisfactory answers elusive;

a one-sided deal broken.

 

Emptied –

Breathless.

Air expended in my limited reality –

slowly dying by Fear’s exhaled poison.

 

Emptied –

Coming to the end of everything I believed true.

Now, Truth revealed.

Now, an invitation to truly live.

 

Emptied –

Pain, joy, grief, hope co-existing –

a dualistic mind cannot contain the fullness of the heart;

Paradox’s invitation to authentic living.

 

Emptied –

Of constructed truth;

Of fear and anxiety’s paralyzing clutter;

Of a contained god;

Of me.

 

Emptied –

Space for conversation – spirit to Spirit;

between me and you.

Sacred space created.

 

Emptied –

liberated . . .

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