Being at home is like being at one with myself.  Atoned.  Centered.  Comfortable and safe.  It is a gift that always exists.  My practice is to remember that it exists everywhere all the time anywhere.  Always.

I make cozy little homes then don’t want them to change.  Stubborn like the crab, holding on with sharp pinchers sometimes, puncturing relationships, tearing hols in family and friends.  Ahhh, the gracious presentation of mistakes.  The brilliant use of them to mend, be strong, and perhaps not make them a second time.  New ones, perhaps.  Guaranteed.

Resting at the center of the ups and downs, so many viewpoints for good stories–passion, pain, triumph, challenge, reward, despair, peace.  In the center there is no movement.  But even the vibration of the mist in the trees moves me.

I am a human being, tenderly trembling with air, dirt, water and fire.  Hurray for me!

That’s the first principle they keep talking about.  Just being aware of the flow in, through and around me. Allowing it and surfing it without question.  Maybe trimming my sails to get a good wind, or letting my craft sit in the shallow quiet end for a while, there are choices.

However, as I sit allowing the virus bugs in my body chew a bit on me, my body producing mucous to ease them out without much damage, the precious fog nursing the tall pines, the soft waves of hidden traffic, the cool fresh sweet forest air, the colorful warmth of my afghan–his is the Way this morning.

Gentle smile feels the arms of the Divine Love holding and singing lullabyes just to me.  The Flow and the Friend–an infinitely brilliant combination.

Ahh, that I could let the light shine from within throughout and open onto the world.  Letting my light shine is why I’m here.  Allowing the warmth to come from that kernel of pure unflickering goodness inside throughout every cell in my body to glow without ceasing.  Perhaps that really is what prayer is, aligning my vibration with that of the Divine All That Is.

I honor the here and now.  The bug dancing in my chest and throat, the chill, the day ahead out in the world.  And in my internal sweet world, I bow to the Lotus Within.

To let the light shine from within me and be luminous as a lantern of the Divine.  Now there’s a thought.

Even when this chair doesn’t work.  And I didn’t get much sleep until the alarm clock rang…and then overslept.  Luminous.

If I remember each moment that this here and now is a gift, the light can shine clear through me.  Crankiness clouds the lamp.  And I am a lamp, as best as I can be, the light just isn’t pure flame.  We are not saints.

But yes, there is increased awareness of the Path, enjoyment and curiosity even when the waves are troubling, the path bumpy, the future unsure.  Put on better shoes, double up the socks, make sure I take my gloves and visor.

Ready to meet you along the Way Dear One.

That’s life.  Surfing the wave one minute and thrashing around plummeted with walls of tears the next.  And the in-between.  Lull between waves.  Quiet soft rhythm along the sandy shore.

High points are inspiring, thrilling–reading for four people in one night.  Seeing their eyes drink up the juice flowing through me.  Knowing really that they’ll remember 1/10 of it all and absolutely accepting my role.  Wondering if I was too much of a ham, and opening my hand to receive the money.

And home alone.  Cold in the morning.  Late to rush into traffic and a job for someone else’s vision.

Up and down.  In and out.  Here and there.  Just You and me today Ganesha, riding the waves on this beautiful blue-green planet dancing around the sun.

I am the path of the universe that unfolds, flowers, fruits, withers, dies and releases seeds to root and green again.

As I am this flow, I feel the Presence of All That Is within, beneath, surrounding me.

Throwing my arms up in delightful and terrifying surrender, I ride the waves, allowing the furrows to calm me, nurture me.  So that when the top of the wave of the future aririves, I have learned to bend at the knees.

Still I lean into this journey with a walking stick of the Divine.  I keep photos and statues and rocks and tidbits of love scattered throughout my day and my home.  Reminding me that I am never alone, that the rest of the ocean water comforts me.

First the fish needs to say, I’ve always been thirsty, and look at the wine flowing at me from all sides.  This strange camel ride is delicious.

Gentle with myself today.  I choose that.  Gentle with the idea of being swept away by the Divine Path ahead.  Feeling a wave rising at my back, the wind picking up with change.  Gentle does it to do tiny steps at a time, letting others be themselves and me be me.  Bumping around in Divine safety and love.

But if I am at one with the Ocean, a wave would be a delight–foam, bubbles, laughing u into the salt-filled tears in the air, rising powerfully and chasing with great noise and delight.  If I am a wave, I am the rise and fall of the flow.  Nothing to fear or mourn.

Ah yes, Pema says–I have to be big and small at the same time.  That makes sense.

Changing my direction will get me in a different place than I am now headed.  Starts with walking out the apartment door this morning.  Maybe putting on boots, it’s a bit cold.

ha–good insight.  Dressing for the weather.  Taking care of myself, but moving forward to where I am drawn.  Now if I can only get my shoulders to stop aching and hunching like we are preparing for battle.  Trusting in the flow is another step.

Playing with life, instead of considering a battle might be nice.  looking at interactions as two athletes on a wide open field.  It sometimes doesn’t matter if you get through the goal posts, but certainly the yardage, the lay-up, the team work, the cheering with a sack, the sinking of the basket is thrilling.  This isn’t professional sports, where money is involved, this life IS for amateurs!

Ok, on with the game.

Every breath brings a start,  process, release and repeat.  That’s the Flow, the Way with All That Is.  Like the Tao says: Do your job, and let go.  The only way to be at One with the flow.

Allowing the flow, I’m accepting the trough of the wave.  Being quiet.  Going nowhere.  Sitting and allowing numbness its time.  Then, stiff with my lazy pose, I clean a bit.  Easy on myself with threats of irresponsibility, rumblings of the future, nastygrams from my mind about the “shoulds.”  Just rolling with this full moon.

Dear One:You are as I am as You are me.  I allow the You of me to watch this earth-life.  I breathe Your breath of sweet comfort and peace.  I love that You love me.

Today I breathe deep into the surety of Your Presence.

It certainly is more productive than worry.  Worrying is a puzzling habit.  More of an addiction actually.  It is the mind’s fierce desire to judge and discriminate out of control blasting into the future or hovering like a vulture over the past, looking for carrion–dead events to rip further apart.

Ick.  Well, that’s really what it comes down to.  And flights into the future circling possibilities has some mapping uses.  But living in the air above nothingness is certainly distracting when driving 70 mph on the freeway enroute to work in the dark cold winter morning.

This here and now is a gift.  Here.  Now.  Clicking keys, stiff shoulders, apartment sounds. Readings waiting.  In prayer.

She who rushes ahead, stands on tiptoe, leans on other–doesn’t stand still.  I claim openness to this hear and now.  Ha, yes, to hear the now.