My Heart and Soul

As I walk the illusory caverns made of human thought, I shut out my subtle mind and disconnect myself from my knowing. Human thinking is nothing more than mental interference upon my mind’s natural spaciousness. The reverberations have been of such  frequency, that I’ve been unable to see past them. They leave a mark that seems indelible.

I am altered. I must find a way out of this strange infusion of misperception to regain my rightful mind. I have stood a long time in shadowed confusion praying for this clarity while giving the outer world my fuller attention. I have known a conflict that kept me bound.

And so it is today that I push the world aside and go to my intangible self, the part of me not caught in human understanding. I become still and let the writing come and reveal the self I am that is a knowing heart, my place of peace. In my heart, a gentle wellspring shimmers with the substance for my dreams and desires. In my heart, I am free to explore the wholeness of my nature. In my heart, I am the energy of emotions that builds worlds. New and better worlds. Unexpected worlds. Happy worlds.

In my heart, I am a confident child enrobed in a reverent Light.

I am not alone in my Light, it surrounds me for it is all that is. I grow into aliveness from this Light within and around me. From it I receive all knowledge. I call this Light my Soul. But that is just a word. The thing I am made of cannot be contained or named for it is infinite.

As I write, I feel movement within me. My heart is lifting my gaze, which has become innocent, to the outer reaches of Time, far beyond the conditional, far beyond the need to think, and far into the country of my Soul. Creation is made of illuminated feelings. I feel. I feel my self, my life, my worth, my love, my freedom. I feel, and all is understood. All is joy. It is easy to feel. It is easier to feel than to think. Thinking weighs me down. How odd to value it so much.

I see plainly now that my human life is a small room furnished by the beliefs I embody. Of itself, there exists no room. There is only thought and the receptive canvas that reflects it. There are many rooms in my human world, all created by thinkers like me. Each a oneness of a kind. Only the Light within the thinker is the universal Absolute. All are one. They don’t seem to know that. They squabble unnecessarily.  

Though I pine for the wordless world, I am not really afraid of the words humans must use. There are words pure enough to convey strengths. These words appear from the ineffable within me now to be symbols for my expression. They enable me this narrative that is constructed of a fine collection of words portraying my ethereal Being. I can tell others of my self. I can hear from them of theirs. With all these words I leave a unique impression upon the Earth of my passage through Time. From them I gather cherished mementos I will keep until Forever. My heart is of the Celestial Kingdom but my pulse is of Earth. A strange, subtle, bucolic alchemy takes place between these two aspects of being. I must not resist nor deny either one if I am to  know wholeness in a dream and bring meaning to having become a human for a time. I am not here by accident.

There are stars in the gaps between my thoughts. Stars that now appear above me when the sky reveals what lives within it. The inner has become the outer. The wind is whistling through the trees in the orchard near my house, but I know it is Life singing to Itself. Infinity locked in time remains the only reality. Its dual countenance can be seen singularly if I think for myself alone. I must remember this simple imperative. When I stand quietly aware of the heart at the center of my being—only then—can a world of people be understood and seen peacefully. And lovingly ignored. My Soul must be known, acknowledged. It is the truth. To Earth I’ve brought with me the Courage of an artist and the Pluck of a poet to tell of it.

For this you came, says my Soul. A hiddenness wants to be known. The human life is a gift of great value and I know yours, says my Soul. God bless my Soul, say I.

The Essential Me

I am a Soul. I am much more than the word of it. I will draw now its essence. This essence is my nature, and from it I understand everything that I am.

I am like a Tree. It is why I love Trees, we are of a kind, the same and other. In my deepest self I am a flowing river of light rooted in unchangingness. From there I am reaching up—high, wide, expansively. I am always reaching. I am reaching to release a dream. I am a dreamer, I possess the attribute of creativity. Dreams are my medium. I dream of wonders and delights; my heart is so pure that it imbues my mind with the  perception of the infinite goodness that is All That Is. I am of the All That Is. I am good.

And I am whole. I trust the knowing in my mind. My Great Heart is my anchor in the eternal. It is the immortal of me. I am a sacred self made of Love. Even when I dream and don’t know it. Sometimes I dream of becoming human. Just for a little while and just because. When a human, I bring sorrow to joy. Darkness to light. Forgetting to knowing. Nevertheless, laughter is instilled in me to fool the doubt and keep me sane. Laughter is not needed very much in Heaven for there is no doubt or loss of self there. All I do when I am human is try to balance all the contradictoriness around me and keep my center from falling of a cliff. When I get it right, I am at ease with the contrariness and bring order and beauty to my world in spite of all the world around me.  I learn many things about myself and my powers when I am human, none of them easily wrought but all meaningful.

Eventually I leave the dream of being human. I wake from a slumber that felt so real, so immediate, so urgent. And I laugh, amazed I thought what I thought there. I stand still for a moment and shake myself awake, glad to be back in timelessness, joyful to regain my allness and the power I thought I’d lost. I encounter the loving souls I’d shared that dream with and we embrace with pleasure, reunited in what cannot take us apart any longer—until the next dream of limitation, of course. We’ll keep going there, dreaming another dream, planning another scheme, forgetting in order to regain the relief of remembering. We’ll keep going there, for with each dream we bring to that illusion a greater measure of Heaven, until possibly, that dream world can become a place of real magic within a material semblance. It is our canvas, we are its artists. Already we have brought it much beauty, music and brightness. Being infinite, we have more to bring. Much much more.

Carding the Strands of the Self

I am using words to find myself.

I think I need symbols. What I need, is to know what I am. I am one who feels in a Universe that responds in kind. I am made of the infinite everything to be a playful creator within the never-ending Life.

Now in a world of words and religions that do nothing but allude, immediacy eludes me. Eternity is already here, why would I want to believe it isn’t? Why do I need to put away my nature and assume a self I am not? I don’t understand any of this.

This world is filled with the sounds of a thing bereft of peace. I am walking with crutches when once I glided beneath the Moon’s silken gaze. Though it is only a dream I journey in, I am on Earth to collect the spiritual treasure of expanded awareness. It is with such irony that limitation turns out to be my Teacher, its contrasts and contradictions have fooled me much of the way. I thought I was to take it all at face value and succumb to the game that overlooks my supportive perpetual motion on a Sea of Answers to which I bring all my questions. Defiance has come late to my yielding heart.

I possess a rich curious mind. I like that about me. I’ve kept wondering, asking, feeling. My human journey has brought a reach of wisdom painfully wrested from resistant shadows where true meaning was eventually found. My book of days has been written with agreements not from, nor for, my own soul. Strung on a mental loop of misinformed perception, natural serenity became lost to my pellucid mind coarsened to believe in the illusion of untruths.

So I use incomplete words now to tell myself what is real. Considering who we really are and despite how much we do not perceive of our glorious aliveness, I know that life on Earth can be a magical experience. I have witnessed this in my authentic moments. Unhappiness is caused by believing what is not true.

The silent standing trees outside my window may be vibration come to form only when I look at them, but they are real: they know themselves, as I know my self. Pure, I exist without mental concepts and external precepts. My life is the instrument for the revelation of something more than myself that lives in exquisite ever-becoming. My personhood is sacred. I am conceived in each new moment by my transcendent Self, whose poetry of expression comes from Joy.

My single reason for being is to be Life’s Poet. It is the only purpose possible in a benevolent and whole Universe. Anything else, is a lie.

Quietly considering the current situation…

Is there a virus circulating the globe? Or, reality being really consciousness, is the increased fear that had taken hold of people for some time been given a name and exteriorized so that it can be “handled” in a way more believable than simple self-awareness? (We don’t know how powerful we are.) When growth comes, not everyone can cheerfully join with it. Change and the unfamiliar bring fear. Fear brings discord to our world. We are one big world, we share everything as never before. We are growing and learning and resisting it … together.

Now, both in separating from one another, and in sharing a common challenge, we can see how much we are connected. Where does the fear come from? We do not know who we really are. Because we are each unique, each different, each valid in our individuality, diversity threatens our insecurity and makes us defensive and intolerant and requiring conformity. We had to be taught to think this way. We entered this world loving ourselves and all we would meet, then forgot all about it. We forgot because we were made to believe something untrue about reality. Now the old reliable rules of this world are changing; the “absolutes” are losing their power and confronting the outmoded world-views that still fill our minds. Isn’t that ironic? Ironic, because I know that the disruption is trying to get us back on track. We just do these things the hard way. We are struggling with the old and the new. We are unsure of so much.

I don’t think life is remotely complicated. I don’t believe problems need complicated solutions. We already have the wholeness we keep looking for in the world. In no longer being able to go out in the world and “get some life,” we have the opportunity to find what actually creates our life. We’re stuck at home with … our self. The one and only one we came here with. Our self is life and how it gets expressed. We are energy, consciousness, the very substantive stuff of existence. We are spirit. Free. Unrestricted. Unconditioned spontaneity. Life flows out from within us. Not the other way. The way we treat each other is, frankly at times, hard to believe possible. Our obsessive acquisitiveness has buried us in bloated density. Our need to control reality has bound us and made us, temporarily, stupid and small.  

It really is all very simple. This is an ‘entry and departure’ world. We think the departure is a tragedy. Some people are taking this opportunity to depart, that is all that is going on there. The Earth and it’s human societies have heaved a sigh of relief as we cease the everyday noise.The silence we now enjoy will bring insight, guidance and will show us how to intelligently take care of ourselves and each other. We will find new inclusive ways of doing things. We are wonderful Beings, supported in freedom in a Mind that thinks in us and provides us with the Allness of its knowledge. Now that the world is quieter, we can hear it. We have the time and space to listen.

I am looking there, within the invisible yet full of feeling me. I am telling myself about life’s true presence within me. That’s all I need to do as I go through my day. I find that this simple acknowledgement breathes me into the actions I need to take, I find the people I need to talk to and the things that need to be said. I am not alone, not empty. I need only give up being afraid and not doubt that there is a blessing unfolding for us. Reality’s creative power is attitude. Yes, it is that personal a means. I am the wisdom I need. Everyone is this to themselves.

It is to this understanding of ourselves that we need to bring our faith. Our attention. This is the true nature of the human being. We are variegated life. Some will choose to see a Blessing today, others a ready way to get back Home, and still others will hold on to the familiar though it brings suffering. My expectation will show me a sound and meaningful resolution. This is a feeling/mental universe. We can receive clarity from the healthy use of our thinking and attitudes. We can create a happy world where every living thing has equal value and preciousness. And since there is no waiting in God, we can consider that potential reality … already here.

It is to this reality that I commit my focus at this present time of global uncertainty. I know I am guided, inspired and supported by Something more than myself to show the good I intend my life to represent. The world is created one human at a time. I am responsible for the human I am and the thinking I do. I recognize this sacred authority in everyone. We are not at the mercy of an external power.

Welcome Yourself

Let the words come. They hold treasures. They are the little indicators of the Quiet one you are. You think you keep repeating yourself, but what you are doing is saying what matters to you that you have forgotten. You come to your writing with unkindness for your self. You write from a judgment that makes it hard for the words to appear, they feel unwelcome. You see yourself through critical eyes. You are comparing with the world and you cannot come out as being in anyway as you think you should be.

But you need not be so critical. In fact, you need not be critical of yourself in the least. There is nothing to criticize. You were not created to be going through an existence of criticism. Too soon you forgot to wonder where had the gentle life gone. When you found yourself in the world and heard what it was doing you allowed it into yourself and it worked its way in you to seem to become you. Unkindness is what you heard, now let it go away to be a thing that never happened. Let go of this tendency in you toward your self. Write with a sense of welcoming what comes from you. Write with a sense of welcoming life and each day that newly begins. Be welcoming of your mind and its ability to tell you wonders. Be welcoming of the smallest activity of human life that you have come to enjoy. Be welcoming of the fun you have with others. Be welcoming of the insight that comes so readily when you let it.

Life eagerly waits to bring you its treasures. It eagerly waits to show you the fresh. It eagerly wishes to bestow upon you all the good that resides in it. And all you need do … is allow. Welcome it by trusting in its silent and invisible presence hiding in your thinking as a living thought; in your feelings as conviction; in your human life as hope.

Allow this inner splendor to enable your movement through the world. You need not work hard to make life work, do not interfere with its working. Imagine its presence in the quietest possible way. No other thing need be done by you, even now, when so much has appeared to go wrong. But nothing has gone wrong. Nothing has become lost to you. The wonders of Life are the gift you welcome from yourself.

back to top