Skip to main content

A Little Day Dream

This morning, I am setting intentions about how I want to use my precious time. I can no longer believe in the ideas that speak to my fear, and would have me limit myself to the imaginary fences around me.

So, I must daydream now.

If this time with myself could look like anything, with absolutely no template in place...

I soar high through the sky in my creativity, letting the currents take me where they will, my eyes closed, my heart open, and trust keeping me airborne. I return to a quieter time in the distant recesses of my mind, the earth warm beneath my feet, carrying what grows up out of the earth in my hands, hearing all of it speaking to me; cradling life within and outside of me, the sun at my back, the rain on my face; a time when my breath is deeper and my spirit is grounded with a knowledge of things unseen. No expectations. No right way. Not a passive time, however, a time of joy and working together, in harmony, for the betterment of all. I uplift you, you uplift me. I am unafraid of our differences, because I see a larger picture, I see the whole. I embrace my gifts and yours, and what we have to give is our offering to one another. There is no ego, because there is no scarcity, no unyielding systems, no levels that would cast anyone as master or slave. There is an embracing of the entire spectrum of gifts, and actions stemming from the place of peace and presence. Without the fear of differences, the fear of scarcity, the fear of not having control, there are no rash actions, like in exterminating entire races, for instance.

In this dream, the most important task is to help a child nurture his gifts and to watch the unfolding of them--no forcing into submission, no comparing, no anger that he isn't getting it fast enough. Our goal is to live in an undulating state of joy-- in the moment; to come together in celebration of life and the bounties given by each of us to the whole, and in thankfulness of the fruits of our earth.

I hear my brother calling me a hippy!
But I say let's go beyond the hippies who said, you can't tell me what to do!
Instead let's say:

Kind sir, please let me get back to you about what we could do to fix this, when I feel better. I am feeling too afraid to make any kind of a judgement call at the moment. Let me get back to you when I can see things a little more clearly, from multiple angles. Until I can see, I am unfit to decide. I never make a decision feeling badly, because my fear gets in the way of really seeing. I want you to feel good, and I want to feel good at this outcome. Let's be patient. Let's get quiet. I must get quiet.

You say this is too idealistic, that there have already been loads of Utopian discourse, and none of it has ever come to fruition, and if it did come anywhere close, some idiot ruined it. And I say that this has never been attempted without the ego.
But at any rate it is happening whether you see it or not. If you haven't recognized it, it is probably because it looks pretty normal from the outside. The nature of this movement requires no one retreat to a compound, or buy up all of the real estate in an obscure country town, or sign on for some new set of beliefs. No, rather it is the movement of all races, religions, nationalities, and is within the main stream of all people, who can do exactly what they are doing, only with awareness. It stems from a desire for change, a feeling that we can't do it the same way anymore. People who are deciding that they believe that the purpose of life is joy.

If you are reading this, you are one of those people.
I am seeing so many, including myself, who are being set right by finding inner peace, who are changing how they do everything from chop potatoes, to parenting, to teaching, to telling the truth, to opening, to taking risk--to really living and loving--no longer needing and wishing. They are finally finding, and most importantly, paving the way for a time of peace and love--but without the anger and fear, and with perhaps less chemical recreation than the hippies.

And in the end, I must only tell this to myself. It is up to me to find my way out of my fears, to live my truth in whatever form that might take for me. And I know this much. There is nothing I must do to succeed in this life, except for live authentically from my own truth, not because I should, but because it is when I feel the most joy!

So what brings you joy? What would you do if you could do anything, and nobody would ever think you weren't any good at it-- but when you did it you felt absolute bliss--if you had endless resources, and your doing this was a necessary gift for our global village?

Let what it is just come to you from this unlimited space, and then, just because, do it for a few minutes--a few minutes is really all it takes to rocket into space--into expansiveness, and into the heart of you. See you up there!


  1. Thank you, thank you, thank you, your words echo my internal voice. "not because I should but because I feel so much joy" the truth of it! You have touched on the very heart of the matter!

  2. Deep bows to you, amazing one.

  3. P.S: That picture of the girls is just the cutest thing ever.

  4. I love the soaring images. My favorite quote, "There is no ego, because there is no scarcity..." What if? What will life/society be like when this is realized? I absolutely agree there has been the Utopian discourse before but that this time there is a global awakening like no other. Here is to uplifting and a life of JOY!

  5. "In this dream, the most important task is to help a child nurture his gifts and to watch the unfolding of them--no forcing into submission, no comparing, no anger that he isn't getting it fast enough." Absolutely! Well said.


Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, mag


Photo by Ben Herbert on I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing. I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline. The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here. There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons. My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a singl

I want to remind me...

My thoughts drift back to when I was a child. I had a little toy kitchen sink and stove, no nouveau riche set, à la pottery barn, but very basic and snap together. It was set up in the unfinished basement on top of orange Muppet shag rugs that covered some of the cold concrete. There was a giant TV that looked like it had been built in a giant dresser. One top of its console lifted to play vinyl records and the other to play LP’s. Look it up. My kitchen was set up in the corner by the window well, where I could see cobwebs and spiders filtering the outside light shining through. I don’t remember playing much as a kid, but I do remember cleaning up the toys stored in giant Tang cans down there--organizing and reorganizing them at my mom's bidding, to rest the perfectly sorted toys in glowing metallic green cylinders, on pastel yellow metal shelves, the quiet yellow that sort of softened the Muppet rug domination, but added a utilitarian feel to the unfinished basement. I shoul