When you realize you have enough, are enough, you are rich.

I raise my heart to the internal heights, deepest oneness, darling Dear One, Endless Tao that today I feel the wealth of all I am and all I have around me, beneath me, inside of me, above me, through me completely.  Being good and plenty, there is nothing I will need to grasp, argue, defend, insist, comment or worry about.  Everyone is on my side for my highest good.

And as I surf the waves of human being play, I squeal with the delight of foam, snow flying, waves crashing, blue sky blazing fun.

The Tao says that the “mark of a moderate man is freedom from his ideas.”  While as a human I find that impossible, as the mind is indelibly connected to my body while I breathe, I recognize the idea [sic] of being free from the all or nothing convictions some people have about their ideas.  On the other hand, it seems that only those people with complete obsession with their ideas force revolutionary (and necessary) change.

Today I pray to follow the river of my life, steering with the current.  Let me see the rocks before I crash, and if I do crash see it as a glorious adventure.  Remind me to enjoy the calm pools between furious rapids.  Help me to see the whitewater rushing as movement and maneuvering practice.

And please let me raise my eyes to the trees that protect, embrace and breathe for me.  I am a magnificent and holy leaf on the stream.

I try hard to help people, collaborate, create good processes and procedures being a tiny cog in the works of a big machine.  But it is hard for me to determine where I’m reaching too far or offering help.  Weird and puzzling that people don’t want to be helped.  I suppose they see it as a threat to their independence or prowess; and I don’t see myself as interfering.  Well, I have a whole freaking 12 step program to help me with it–and I’m making progress.  Certainly not perfect.

Today’s prayer:

As the rain pours and the wind blows, so I am always myself intact and pure.  My trips and foibles are a part of me as starvation was to the Buddha, tragic sacrifice was to Christ, endless giving is to Kwan Yin.  Just a part of me.  I offer myself to the day, my strengths and weaknesses, illusions and truth in compassion and kindness.  When I trip, I will hold myself in love.  When I speak stupidly, I will bow my head into the arms of the One.  And as i go from here rushing around to beat the clock, I will laugh.

Grateful for a glimpse of me in the Tao, love in the click of these keys, peace in a stormy dark morning.

Just the way it is.  What if this was one of the BEST ideas possible–human life–as a way to spend our time.  Spirits hanging around in perfect dimentional nothingness and we get the chance to be solid creatures, with a beginning middle and end on the most beautiful planet in the universe.

And then we get here and have to work through the monkey mind comparison (human vs. spirit) duality night and day shit–to remind ourselves that this really was a terrific idea.
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i set myself on the plane of existence that cherishes every breath, that hears the rain on the porch and marvels that the miracle of water falls from the sky, that the tulips I bought in November are perfectly formed.  That the cat in my friend’s family is off to another place with brothers and sisters who welcome him there, and I share the very human sadness–cherish the tears like rain on the porch.

My spirit roams the universe, and my heart is here on earth.  I keep my ears and whole body open to the sounds of pure goodness in being.

The Tao, they say, is All That Is.  Here, there, everywhere; inside and outside, we swim and are made of the Water of Divinity. So I sit in the warm room listening to the sleet on the porch outside my window and there is no division between us.  I sit in comfort and goodness and when I walk out–all bundled up in the cold–I am at One with Goodness.

I breathe in the air of mystics and saints, the inhalation of endless oneness with the Daughter of Spring, Father of Winter, Son of Autumn and demon/angel protector, the Bastard.  All gods of all seasons bow to the Oneness, the chords of infinite variety of music that these spheres sing us.

Oneness, oneness, oneness.  Nowhere to flee for saving, no desperate plea for relief, no pounding on the breast of mercy–just here and now, there and then, everywhere, all the time warm and comforted in the embrace of Her Love.

She in the Tao has no destination and makes use of everything and anything that life brings to the path.

Is it short sighted to keep my eyes in front of me?  I love to look above me, at the tree tops and their loving branches reaching out to embrace me.  The horizon too soothes my soul.  Am I too stuck on the future, or have no goals, thus no purpose or meaning?

And what of any of that really matters when you dive into the Divine?

My conversation with the One today is again great-full that I have the heart connection with You.  That no matter where I wander, stuck at my feet, lost in the clouds, running for juice for my sick partner, planning a meeting next month, I am intrinsically held close to Your Heart. 

The scent of Your Presence hypnotizes me.

Entreat the One, the Tao, the River, All That Is that flows through every cell in every entity in every dimension and universe that I be true to what I am.

I struggle for the illusion of being a jewel among my fellows.  The Tao tells me–whispers in my deaf dumb stubborn ears–to be shaped by the waterfall of goodness, polished by the River of Her Love,

as rugged and common as a stone.

Today it is a prayer of thanksgiving.

THANK you for weekends.  For those days where my contribution to societies churning wheels are not required.  For a morning when I can watch the slivers of gold from the east despite the gray clouds that cover them up to disappear again.

I am grateful to know that I can claim serenity–this Saturday morning serenity–at any time of my life.  This is the truth of Tao–it is a river that flows without judgment endlessly.  It is my choice and power to inflate a little boat and enjoy the ride or fall into the rocky cold water and thrash against the current.

Today I surf the Tao, get done what gets done, plan ahead to giggle while cleaning–thinking of friends to visit.  I have the choice to wear soft comfy scruffy clothes and then don more fancy when I change currents.

I claim the power and goodness of my peace this morning, and bow to the internal everlasting image of the One sitting sweetly, Her vase of compassion flowing endlessly.

How can I pray when I am so human?  I am pissed because it is cold in this room.  I feel stupid because the paper doesn’t tear straight.  I doubt myself because I forgot something.  keep on laughing at these silly feelings that tempt me to dissatisfaction, anger and despair.
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Fill me with an endless day that defies feelings.  Or allow your grace to lift me just a touch above the earth, reminding me of your comfort and peace.

With a tiny crook of your finger, ask the nearby angels to play flutes and violins for me today in the backtground so when my material body roars to ambush my infinite spirit, and the marauding mind grabs me, the song of  goodness serenades me back to you.

Maybe 30 or 40 days of praying would help:

In action and non-action, o Sweet One, I pray for your whispered guidance.

Doing something for nothing, doing nothing and getting everything done.  Pure and open allowance of the flow.  That is my prayer today.

Watching your script writing, direction and production all so easily done–even without a PA.  I bow to the Lotus within.