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Showing posts from January, 2010

Marking Time

Image by J. Scott Bovitz I've been very tired, exhausted really. It has been difficult for me to side-step the frustration of lacking the energy to 'move anyway'. I started this new year with a bang, very big insights, exploring deeper parts of myself, and clearing them as best I could. There was a lot of energy to move, because every moment was intense and required all of my awareness to not become entangled in all the stories and their continuous process of weaving and unraveling themselves. Lately, it has been quiet, and my body has needed much rest, which has given my mind the extra space to rev itself up, to follow lines of thought that increase the fatigue--like what is it I should be doing in this existence? and when, if ever, any of that will fall into place?--all of this taking me way out of the present, and deadening the impact of daily miracles. A sure sign that I'm relying on myself for power, no matter my knowledge that this energy reserve has never lasted

Grace Along the Way

Lascia ch’io pianga Almirena’s aria from Rinaldo, s et by George F. Handel (1685-1759), excerpt from the 1994 film Faranelli : about Faranelli . ...when artistic forces come together to tell a story, that says it all...the voice of God somehow existing within, even emerging from, the terror. In this moment I find beauty in surrendering to the Truth, that this existence is about embracing all of it. Only then can I recognize the Grace that flows through my mind, when all of my experience would have me believe otherwise. I continue to walk outside of myself, to honor that this life was never meant to be anything more than a way out of the illusion. This post could also be titled, Why We Create: The profound use of art medium in experiencing and interpreting our individual and collective existences in our search for purpose. But I guess I prefer to simplify, and leave it at what we are all really hoping for-- a touch of Grace along the way. What better way to refer to, perhaps, the mos

Bending Rules

Each moment is a new beginning. Each moment is fresh and new-- when I question what is troubling me, and find it unraveling to the perfection of nothingness, no absolutes, no solutions, no more fear, no more rules that override love, that obscure clear vision --just the perfection and silence of being. Today, I wondered how I would move through my daughter's tears and clinging to me, yet again, at the preschool door, afraid that she wouldn't get the compassion and loving arms that I needed her to have from her teachers. In working through my dis-ease, I've realized that I have a set of rules for those who interact with my children. They must adhere to these rules, or else. In other words, in a moment I could forget everything they do for my child, and place them in the unjust category of threat to my child and to me. Can you get how we fulfill our own prophecies?--it can happen in a less than a second, with just the tiniest shift in perception--the tiniest fear! The most

Side by Side

You didn't ask me to be born, and yet here you are. Each day, by no choice of your own you see all of me, for better or for worse. And you try to make sense of all my contradictions. Sometimes you tell me I am the worst mother ever, sometimes you tell me I am the best. And either way, you are right. Each day I try to catch up to my fears and see you whole. Some days I am able, others I am left unsettled by my fears of a world that would swallow you up whole. Sometimes I slow down enough to see the gift of you in my life. Other moments I am swept up in a current of my own journey, and I barely sense you chasing behind. I know you wonder why it is that sometimes you have to ask me over and over to get you a glass of milk, or to come and look at what you've created--after all, I'm always pointing out the magic of you in my life, and encouraging you to create, and to feel the pure joy in it--so why is it that I can't take a moment to revel in your experience of it? Why can&

My Prayer

Grant me the courage to forever find the bounds I hold in my heart that limit my ability to love. Grant me the gift to see my fellow man and myself. Give me the vision to see the vast landscapes of our hearts, outside of the constructs of this world, so, that I might begin to see Truth. Help me to see all the layers of the battles raged, and recognize what they have to teach me about the way back to love. Help me to see my part in the fighting, from my heart, honoring my feelings, but turning it over to a higher Source for interpretation. Help me to remember how I make the illusion of this world real by engaging in fighting, feeling justified by my own desires and attachments. Help me to recognize how I am, in actuality, fighting to keep myself locked up, defending something that is meaningless, and that would separate. As I move through my experiences and gain greater access to the beliefs and desires that I hold, which imprison me, and as I slowly begin to be free of them, help me to


Unraveling Boy II Illustration by Robert Carter First of all just let me say, that with what the Haitians are going through, the complaints of my little life feel self-indulgent. That is my unloving way to tell myself that my experience doesn't matter as much unless I am bleeding out. It keeps me suppressing what is coming up for me, so, just to make sure, I have absolutely nothing to give my fellow man. So, when I write this morning that I am experiencing my own set of aftershocks, if it bothers you, you can stop reading now, or you can read ahead and see how I am picking up the pieces of my own personal earthquake--(yes, again), and you can open to the possibility that what is taking place right in the vicinity of our own minds, even if we don't see the blood and gore, even if the structures around us are still standing--all that madness we are forever cycling through and doping with our drug of choice, is no different in magnitude, even if unmeasurable on the Richter scale.

Praying for Peace in the Hearts off the Haitians

This morning my heart goes out to the beautiful people of Haiti. It is so hard to put into place something like this in the grand scheme of things. I let myself ask why. I see the pictures of children, and the faces of my own children become superimposed on theirs... I let my heart ache for the people who are experiencing the bottom dropping out of their experience. I reflect on why it is that it takes something of such a grand scale to make me pay attention to the world, why it is that I have become desensitized to the almost daily bombings I read about in the paper elsewhere in the world; why it takes something of such magnitude to turn me in that direction for a sustained amount of time. A life is a life, after all. There is nothing like a natural disaster to make us feel very small and vulnerable, knowing that we are at the mercy of something so big and terrible. Perhaps since I don't have bombers running around my streets so often, it is instantaneous to put myself in the shoe

To Rise Again

Wow, must have been the last to know. I marvel at the resilience of the human spirit. The rebuilding of Haiti begins in this moment, with all of us sending our deepest love, with all of us holding our dear ones a little tighter, with all of our hearts open, ready to witness them move through this and rise again, strong and forever changed.

Humble Pie

Today I had yet another humbling experience. I must be ready for them because I feel like the universe has been hurling them at me lately. It's like I am tied in knots, and something is trying to untie them, but there is discomfort in the newness of being untied, because knots are my 'normal'. It is as if I literally can't even understand what freedom is, even though all I have to do is just step outside of my open cage. I keep bringing it back to love, but I realize that even this is a concept I am making a mess of. I came across the most perfect passage in the ACIM that jolted me like a lightening bolt, showing me the truth of things: that I really do not yet have a basis for understanding anything. "You do not understand it yet only because your whole communication is like a baby's. The sounds a baby makes and what he hears are highly unreliable, meaning different things to him at different times. Neither the sounds he hears nor sights he sees are stable yet


I am currently in a moment that I know will pass. Caught in a sandstorm, I am disoriented and blind. But I am learning how to shield my eyes just so, and I begin to make out the outlines of what is being unearthed by the storm. Dark shape-shifting shadows. It could be vipers or scorpions ready to take a bite. It could also be the surface of a treasure chest. I know that I will never know if I stay here paralyzed with fear of the unknown. Yet, it isn't about finding the treasure or slaying the beasts, is it?

Moving Any Way

Painting by Julia Moving anway has been working very well, until today, when I found myself feeling a little aimless about where to move to, brought into this space by some very difficult moments with my kids. I aimed at side-stepping my mind as best I could, by asking myself if I could just allow the feelings of being lost and afraid. Sometimes this is enough to shed the heavy chains of my mind. But today my heart still felt closed. And so it happened that my mind came in from behind and temporarily shut me down, saying, I could not move anyway without my heart feeling open. A familiar feeling of paralysis overtook me. How could I face the day when I couldn't stabilize myself into the present moment, and surrender to the gentle guidance of the heart?--another dirty trick of the mind, that I must find stability, that I must be lead somewhere. So, I wandered aimless for a good few hours this morning, and now I have finally found the focus to sit down and fumble at the keyboard.

Circling Back

Photo by Lyn I begin this new year feeling softened, feeling wide open, feeling as if before I had only dipped but a toe into the warm pool of love and compassion, and now I am being given opportunities to feel immersed in it; to settle into it in which ever way I can, and to robe myself in its warmth and glow. I allow it to hold me there and let myself feel baptized by the sweet surrender, and the love that I know is everlasting and endlessly abundant. I feel the silkiness of it on my skin. I am cradled in an effervescence of light that doesn't burn. It buoys me up and speaks of a gentle truth, of trust and of loving anyway , any way --and it is now that I can relax into it, feel myself emerging from a cocoon, ready to fly. I begin to really notice my surroundings, to see the beauty, to cherish the gifts, and to look out on the horizon and gently make my way towards it. It is a place of release, the calm after the storm. To think, it all began with the simplicity of just showing u