Skip to main content

Reverence


Notes to self:

Nothing on the surface matters. Don't let it fool you.

It is all happening underneath, and down there, it is one big party.

Down there, a dance is going on. Nobody sits this one out.

Every move, integral.

Here we are dancing together, and we don't even know it.

Judgement drops away. No mistakes. Always in the right place.

No harsh forces conspiring against us. Everything manifest for our ultimate release.

Living for the first time.

Nothing is exempt. The points of our lives make a circular sweep, and spiral down into deeper understanding. We make our rounds again, hitting the same points, but our perspective is different. Our experience changes, burns through, becomes clearer, and clearer, deepens into the body.

Releasing the old, welcoming the new.

Fear becomes a memory. New poses, standing tall and strong.

Ease of movement.

Ease of union.

Cliches become understood down there. Clues that have been there all along, hidden in the fabric of the ordinary, but scarcely grasped before.

Joyful bubbling up of laughter to the surface.

Everything, a first.

So, it feels as though we are all just deep in the process of bringing something vital back to life.

A love so clear.

It asks nothing. It gives everything. It receives all of it.

Total acceptance of what is.

Nothing is special, because everything is special.

Comments

  1. Reading this post, what a beautiful, peaceful, joyful way to start the day. Thank you, Brooke!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

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

Popular posts from this blog

RIP Poltergeist

After over ten years of an incredibly intense journey as a seeker, I find myself lying fallow. Taking a rest. When I first discovered this uncomfortable fact — threat to the hamster wheel that was my spiritual rat race, I surrendered for dead, but something wouldn’t let that fact sit as truth. I was lying fallow, but this implied that after a good rest, fruit could follow. This had nothing to do with death.

I am humbled at the courage it takes to write. For many years I kept a blog read by only a handful of very supportive people, and you’d think that after sharing writing for so long with perfect strangers, writing would have gotten easier. Actually, it got harder. In fact, at one point I was so paralyzed, I just stopped writing altogether. It was just too vulnerable. There was no trust there anymore, and I attributed any courage I had had to my youthful ignorance.

However, life continues, as it inevitably does, and there is still this pang to write, and it grows stronger and strong…

Adventure

Another painting I loved making. I had so much fun just layering paint and swirling about.

Adventure has been a big part of my world as of late. In fact, writing this after a long day of skiiing. Where I used to shy away from leaving the house, I've been doing the opposite. Finally really getting to know my beautiful state and bask in its beauty-- hiking to the top of many peaks--sometimes limping the last stretches back to the car. Took my girls camping on the beach without a 'man'  and was so proud when I got the campfire started multiple times. The girls had their doubts I could do it. It was nice to prove them wrong! My most favorite was the day I drove 5 hours to the closest passport office on a wing and a prayer to get a same-day passport (wing and a prayer because they tell you you can drive all that way, but that there is no guarantee they can/will help you) so I could accept an invitation to see the woman's soccer world cup, and within a week was in Vancouver…

Pillow Talk

Today I felt the familiar pangs of conversing with my body, it forever unyielding to my demands that it shape itself pretty now. That it chase itself back to its few glory days.

I tell my body that I would be ready to appreciate those days of yore now that I know what I missed while vying for the shapes and sizes of the other women around me.

Over and over my mind and I have run this particular proclamation to my body.

Then, we are good on our road, until the mind closes in and starts to overtake my strides.

You'll never make it there, you are too far gone, it taunts. It is too late.It isn't possible for you.

Then, so predictable--it attacks the most vulnerable part of me. The part I hide, keep covered, feel sure is my perfect disgrace: my belly.

The scale tipped in favor of shame today. Shame that I'd let the house of my being become so run down. That I'd let myself use food to comfort me, pick me up, enhance experience-- and that in the process I'd packed on the ext…