Exercising Relativity

I enjoy beding time and space.  Writing is the most excellent tool for this supra-dimensional practice.  Clicking keys here expressing random, if not purposeful, thoughts from a scattered human heart/mind to you, the ethernet, the unknown, the way-out-there-whatever then and there.  Plus the whole idea of me writing this blog was as a meditative practice, not to express, but to allow the words along the way to soothe through me and out the dancing fingers to the screen.  Manifesting moments.

Another time/space bending conundrum happening here is that for the next few days I will not be here and now, but in the deep woods, speckled sun pine scented forest, a rushing river ooohhhmming throughout my body.  Sleeping so I can see the treetops, waking with tiny forest songs, napping midday in soft summer heat.

It is redundant to meditate in nature, I’ve found, as the sensually vibrating body is emersed in endless moments of the mind and heart full full full of All That Is.  Fairies giggle as they play hide and seek, brownies complain and steal food crumbs, ancestors wander around with the fire smoke. 

With Her cougar and rabbit shadows nearby, the Lady of the Forest sits on a rock in the river and sends Her siren love song out to me.

4-3-08

Life
death, near misses, mistakes, dog shit on the living room floor.

It
was that kind of a day.  And in the midst
of it a wondrous conversation about being in the flow of a never ending river
of pure golden good, rushing, eternal, cool, rich, laughing, gurgling, always
giving.  And the practice of going with
the flow, instead of upstream.  Perhaps
that is the wonder of being with the Divine–allowing the streaming river of Good
to take us with it, instead of insisting on being a salmon and driving pounding
struggling smashing ourselves on rocks and rapids upriver to spawn.  We are not salmon.

But
even fighting the flow gives us the good.

Bristling
about the mistakes I find each day, whether I cause them or forget about
something or I am the gap or someone else is the gap, or most usually, I have
no idea where/how the gap happened, but charged with moving forward and forging
the stream, concocting a boat, building a bridge to the completion of the
project, whether with gaps or not, people present or missing.  And trying not to take it personally or hurt
or struggle.  Hard practice.  Just to allow the rushes and rapids of up and
down carry me around and through and over the rocks–all of them polished in
smooth rubbing of the grace of good.

Sinking
feeling getting the call that my dad is under the knife in surgery again
tonite, with a symptom that might have been causing his difficulty for a
year–why didn’t they see it?  The answer
my stepmom tells me gives me absolutely no information.  She’s in a fog of being present, getting some
food, waiting for the nod to approve anesthesia that we have no idea will yield
another living human breathing father/husband on the other side.  I surf the waves of grief knowing that I have
called to remind my dad of my love for him, that all will be ok, and just to
hear him and to have him hear me–in this life together–a small path in the
intertwining mobius strip of the oneness we are.

Stunned
to talk to a friend who is a singular reason I am still alive and sober, who
has a car accident that is not injurious, but scary.  The thought is terrifying.  And she is still shaking and I’m the second
person she calls.  So as I feel the wall
of water hitting me as I face upstream with the hard thought of her almost
dying, I am filled with the river of golden good that she loves me, and I love
her.  Then the silly struggle comes again
that I am now charged with guilt and duty to see her more often, love her more
dearly and take the time to express myself, be with her, give to her as she has
given to me.

The
good river that keeps on giving, no matter if I am in the tube of a huge ocean
wave, slamming through the white water, or quietly still in a lake, I cannot
sink, I am clear and calm, I am surfing the goodness of Divine grace.

The Divine Lady sits on a rock in the river and sings Her siren love song to me.