This Is Now

 

Now that both my boys are in therapy

Now that the right medication has been prescribed to the one with mood swings and depression

Now that the one who was recently diagnosed with ADHD is finally qualified to receive extra support from the school district, and he might actually be college-bound after all…

Now that the weight of “fixing it” has been somewhat lifted

Now that I’ve ended the year-long romance that was always only temporary anyway

Now that I’ve successfully scared off all new potential suitors

Now that, day by day, I care less and less about outside opinion

There is a certain beauty in unpopularity, you know.

Now that I am actively forgiving my father

And the father of my childhood best friend

And the rapist

And the stalker

And the one I loved and almost married, who wrestled with demons, who

lost control that one night and gave me the end I was seeking

in spades.

Now that I have grieved and healed and forged on and barely made rent at times

Now my thought is this:

Fuck, I’m tired.

*

And I know the show’s not over, and there is more brilliance than my weary mind can imagine waiting on the other side of this valley.

There is a place to fill my cup, replenish and dance with vibrancy and fearlessness again.

And there will be more valleys, surely, the further into time I walk in this body.

When I reach them, it is possible that I will carry new and powerful tools with which to navigate that terrain.  My dormant talents will have further awakened.  I will be that much more practiced in the art of love alchemy.

This is now.

Not what was, or what will become.

And now, thanks to this stupid sinus infection, I’m forced to rest and miss work.

My task is to care for this body, in its sickness and health.

My to-do list is this:

Rest

Love

Forgive

Repeat

 

 

 

 

Bhakta

 

Like a moth to a flame,

I’m drawn to the light of illumination

It pulls me in and I can’t look away

I can’t resist its warmth

and beauty

and the love I feel

as I draw near

Ohhh, beauty

Destroy me

*

Whenever I leave, whenever I fly away

or fold myself against this flame

I find I miss it

crave it

need it

I am suffering without it, and why have I forgotten?

Why, why, why did I turn away?

Instantly, out of my longing

the flame returns….

It is not of this place

It is not of any conditional or material circumstance

It is eternal, and flowing like a mineral spring

of complete, undying mystery

*

I feel it like reaching for a sweet, ripe fruit

The taste is already on my tongue

but something in this devotional space

is letting me savor the want,

the desire

the longing

An ache for complete merging with this,

the Divine

The arguments for conditional love and happiness

are simply falling apart;

concepts, beliefs, assumptions

are dismantled and strewn across the floor

when the spotlight of love shines

upon the foundation of your mind

The spotlight of love

spits you into the void

and shows you

your own endless nature

*

Do you feel me now?

*

Spaciousness appears….

Everything in you is bowing,

forehead to the ground

Like a bee, you seek

the pollen,

this dust from the feet of the One who gives

sustains

and takes it all away

Show me how to lie down

and Surrender everything

Like Shiva lying in ecstasy

beneath Kali’s lotus feet

God Himself is set free

by the Mother of Everything

Timeless, Deathless, Changeless, Nameless One

Annihilate me

*

The journey of Moksha,

the liberation from self-identification

the freedom from me and mine

Lifetime after lifetime,

like stringing beads on a mala,

I polish my heart with the dust of Her lotus feet

I wash my mind in the dust of Her lotus feet

I long to become

the dust of Her lotus feet

All that is left of “me” and my knowing of

being

anything at all

is just a plea,

repeated over and over:

let me be that

the dust of Her lotus feet

*

 

Today is the Day

I was going to tell you of my struggles,

But today is not the day for that.

Today is the day to love everyone

Forgive everyone

Embrace everyone

And empty the contents of your heart onto the drawing board of life.

*

Look at the stars

The secret is out there

They are the writing on the wall,

Mirroring everything about us.

The stars shine bright in the dark, dark sky

The darker, the better

Then the more alive, the more lustrous the stars become

Do you ever look at this sky and despise the darkness, but love the light?

Probably not.

It would be so strange to say:

“Only the light is beautiful!”

Without that black night sky

And that empty space

How could we realize

This heavenly creation?

*

Today is the day to love and forgive, as many times as you can.

Let that be your only race.

And the good news is,

You have all the time in the world.

What a gift.

*

Sat Nam

 

Jupiter (About Angels)

 

Yes, there are 7.4 billion people on the planet.

But how many more living creatures in all?

And how big is Space?

Also –

What about the energies of our ancestors, all around us?

And –

Have you ever met an Angel?

*

The Angels are easily identified by their kindness.

The lightness of their energy.

They take nothing from you.

Everything you do is accepted, for they are observing you with the utmost respect.

They know the truth of your being, and it is that – Being – which has brought an Angel into your consciousness, your dreams or even into your physical experience.

*

The Angel is here to guide you in the most gentle and steady way possible;

No time is wasted with an Angel.

The loving corrections they bring come from a place you can’t control with Mind.

So give up.

Receive.

*

See how the influence of an Angel expands your capacity to love and steals your worry?

Find the stretch of your heart and – like any other muscle – hold the stretch right where it is.

No need to back up, no need to push forward.

You

are just right.

*

Believe me,

they get it.

They know it’s not easy here on the earth-plane.

The Angels will always meet you exactly where you are.

They come freely,

and there is no pre-requisite for their visitation upon your life.

Over It

 

I’ve been feeling riled up and at the end of my rope.  I have my list of reasons why my life is challenging right now.  I have my bag of feelings telling me: this is too hard, I need to find a way out, I can’t do this, I’m failing.  I’m keeping struggle and conflict nearby, like they are part of my identity.

I’m tired.  I’m edgy.  I’m “this close” to biting your head off.

Like a wounded animal, I snarl and back into my cave.  Don’t fuck with me.

I can taste the blood in my mouth, the blood of this heart I’ve been carrying around, and I realize that it is MY heart.  The anger and frustration are in vain because they only lead back to self-sabotage.

Bruises are blooming upon the mind that keeps punching itself.  But once you’re in a downward spiral, none of this matters.  You are drunk on this conviction that THIS IS ALL WRONG.

The blood leaks from the corners of my mouth.

*

I don’t know how to put my heart back in my body.

I don’t know how to find stillness in this world that is so very cracked.

I don’t know how to meet the standards it takes to be a “good mother,” a “good woman,” a “good human being.”

The satisfaction is always a step away, an achievement away, a validation away.

“I’m almost there.”

“I’m going to make it.”

“Everything is going to be okay.”

“My kids are going to turn out fine.”

“Someday, I will find love.”

But this is now.

*

Something in me is crying, because it is right here, and it always has been, and I’m so sorry I’ve forgotten again.  I forgot it about you, and him, and her, and me and all of us.

Help me remember.

Help me find my way back when I’m lost like this.

Will you shine your light on the path that leads to the field that Rumi speaks of?

*

I had a dream last night, full of the usual busy-ness and nonsense.  I had a million obligations.  I felt judged.  I was comparing myself to those around me.  I harbored a list of the 5,642 reasons why I suck.

Suddenly, I was drawn to lie down on a hidden patch of grass, dappled in sunlight.

I lay down.

It was the sweetest thing.

That feeling of failure was so strong and I was so tired from it.

I let myself rest.

I was being given a gift, lying here in the sun.  The chaos of the world was three feet away, but I was offered a respite, a moment of inactivity.

I didn’t earn that moment.

That moment didn’t fix me.

I didn’t escape my whereabouts or my looming obligations.

In that moment, as gave up on trying,

I felt loved.

*

And I was that love.

*

Oh, Intimacy.

Intimacy.

It sounds so appealing, doesn’t it?   Enticing.  Fun.  Close.

Sexy.  Safe.  Secret.

Fantasy made real.

But then there’s the uncomfortable feelings that might occur.  Like fear and insecurity.  Or jealousy.  Issues of control.  Attachment.  Need and want.  Vulnerability.

Oh, shit.

It’s one thing to send someone a sexy photo of some naked portion of your body under just the right light.  It’s another to stand naked with your feelings and thoughts in front of someone without playing games of shielding.

For me, stepping into intimacy has been a slow journey.  I learned to hide early on, to transform myself on a superficial level to accommodate the external world.  I learned to be a yes girl.  An actress in everyone else’s story but my own.  I picked up on cues… what will make them like me?  What will make me acceptable?  How can I get the attention I need?   With men, I shared my body, but not my truth.  How intimate is that?  Not very.

None of this is unique!  A common, common story.

I denied myself food, and pleasure, and fun, and self-love.  My breath was shallow, my thoughts were often shallow.  My sense of suffering was chronic.  The paradigm I believed in depended on my oblivion to what it was that I actually wanted to experience.  My “want” was insidiously driven by the power of external validation.  The story of chasing my worth outside of myself, looking for love while holding my breath, is long and sort of boring.  It’s a story of false starts and dead ends.  A story of resisting my own knowing.

Intimacy is like waking up sober from your own thoughts, your own story.  It is the is-ness that is here now.

Intimacy has everything to do with honoring what feels good rather than what looks good.  Living without the story of some external reward or external validation, I am free to realize that breathing feels good.  Listening to my body feels good.  Self-love in its many forms of expression feels good.  Following my intuition feels good.  Not rushing to decide, respond or act feels good.

When I am free from the story of what I should or should not look like, feel like, accomplish or gain – I can look around with fresh eyes at this world that is truly, constantly, my own reflection.  I can move from that place.  I can smile first, or love, or hug.  I can receive.

I can say yes, gladly and honestly.  I can say no, simply.

Oh, Intimacy.

Dare I approach you?  Dare I let you in?  Dare I sit in stillness and ask the question: “Who?”

Who is having these thoughts?  Who is watching them?  Who is feeling the emotion?  Who is observing the feelings?  Who owns the sense of lack or want or need?

Who is chasing?  Who is forgetting and who is remembering?  Who is breathing in?  Who is letting it go?

Ohhhh…

So close, so intimate.  So completely woven into the tapestry of our lives, our stories.

Who is weaving?

 

Namaste.

 

 

Undateable

As the day of love approaches, I find myself considering putting myself back on “the online market” so to speak, as in online dating.  I’ve done it before, but it’s been over a year and I stopped because I wasn’t having very much fun.  However, I’ve heard of a couple of newer sites that sound like they might be worth a try, and besides – it’s all about where you’re at in the moment, right?  We attract that which we are vibing, that which we are putting out in the Universe.

I question the validity of my efforts, though, for there are a few “snags” in my fabric that make me feel a bit ~ you guessed it ~ undateable:

  • I’m a cat lady. I’m also a little crazy, but that is not a diagnosed condition, just my own self-assessment.  I only have two cats, but they are my children.  And they are the glue that holds my family together.  So my potential mate must like cats.  He must not be allergic to cats.  And he must specifically receive signs of approval from MY cats.  No pressure.
  • I am a single parent of teenage boys. I have been a single parent through the majority of their childhood.  I’m decent at it, but I won’t lie – the challenges are real and constant.  I love my boys something fierce.  And I bow to them as my greatest teachers.  They come first, always.  I need and desire a relationship in which I am understood as a mother.  I wear many hats and my superpowers are vast.  But damn, I could use a break sometimes.  Men I’ve dated often think they get it, but then they don’t.  This does not seem to be contingent on their own experience of raising children, but guys with kids potentially have more of a clue. “Potentially” being the key word….
  • My mind is cracked open to the awareness of human suffering. I care deeply.  Specifically, issues regarding sexism, violence against women, racism, violence against people of color, economic oppression, disregard of people living in poverty, violence against children, and the subtle yet violent brainwashing of men.  I want to talk about these things.  I want a meaningful discourse about these realities with the person I am dating.  I crave an ongoing conversation that makes our hearts softer and our words more kind, even as the pain of understanding suffering breaks our hearts and minds.  I don’t want the band-aid or the kool-aid!  Please, travel in this space with me.  Not for me, but because your soul is aware of its own contract and you, too, have come here to awaken and forgive, love and forgive, be and forgive, forgive, forgive.
  • I have experienced the end of myself. For many years, I kept hitting a cement wall (the end of myself), and it would feel painful and it would be a huge learning experience, but I kept re-creating my identity and my attachments.  Somehow, over time, I have given myself over to this death.  I still attach myself to my identity, but it is somehow looser, kinder and more porous.  The “me” I thought I was isn’t real.  This I know.  The “me” I identify with today is only temporary.  I long to constantly experience the end of myself, for that is the glimpse I have into a life of freedom.
  • When “I” stop clinging to “me” there is a letting go that usually makes me weep because I am so grateful and so relieved.  It is like a load of ten thousand bricks has been lifted from my mind and I can feel, for a moment, that the life that breathes and moves in this body is eternal and sacred and unaffected by conditions.  This presence is deathless, changeless and undeterred by my creative displays of suffering and story-telling.  In fact, it is through these experiences of suffering, these “dreams” if you will, that I seek the end of myself more and more.  Suffering was my introduction to freedom, for it was in times of trial that I rigorously pursued the presence of unwavering love.  I chased my lies until I found the thing that was far more interesting, and to this day I drop to my knees in my heart center when I feel this end, this death, this eternal nature.  I feel it as the the living water, and still I know that I am only grazing the surface of how brilliant it really is.

 

I suppose these are not too many deterrents, but in my experience, the trail gets less and less crowded on the path of soul-reckoning.  There often seem to be more women than men on this trail.  It is somewhat inconvenient that I am primarily straight.  So good luck to me!  Ha! 😉

Also, blessings and love to you – whoever and however you may be – on your love journey and in your seeking.  Namaste.

 

 

 

The Matriarchy

 

There is ecstasy in forgetting yourself.

There is bliss in remembering yourself.

All streams are leading back to the Ocean,

darling pilgrim of the heart.

The Ages are shaping you

into a prism of light that carries every experience

and offers every freedom.

Run towards it!

Chase this light as you live, work, love, eat, sleep and dream.

You are the beautiful vessel

for this dance.

*

Come to me

with the light in your eyes,

Come.

Speak to me

in a voice hushed with reverence

for this,

this waking up.

*

Talk to me of everything you know

and everything you’ve forgotten.

I want to hear your stories of redemption, grief, loss and triumph.

I want to know how you became the Phoenix

and how you learned to forgive.

I want to hold the key to your joy

and treat it like it is my own.

*

Please hunt your own heart,

the way you used to hunt the sacred Buffalo.

And I will birth the teachings of our ancestors,

the way I’ve given birth for generations.

And slowly,

the tides of inequality

are turning.

Your voice quiets with understanding,

with feeling and with honor.

You are learning to love yourself again.

My voice becomes clear and resonant.  I embody respect.

There is no senseless seeking now.

The veil has been lifted and the illusions are falling away

to reveal our innocence

and our delight.

We are alive

by some miraculous power.

*

The sublime Teacher

carries our boat along,

like the river

rushing back to the Ocean.

This Ocean

is where the Matriarchy is headed.

*

 

The Balm

The balm is always love.
Whatever it is
Whatever forgetting, the answer remains the same
As soft as the baby’s hands
As necessary as breath
As empty as the space between our cells
Mirroring the space between solid matter
throughout the Cosmos
Which leads to the question:
Is love impartial?
Yes, as Love loves all in all
Love is the response
to Existence
The quietest love
you will ever know.