Here’s to keeping my heart’s-eye above the level of the frozen body sitting in a chair for three hours at a meeting that is intense but boring, filled with intense changes, most of which could cause endless chaos for months.

And here’s to keeping my eye on the higher vision, the Way that takes me above the noise.  Up above duality and bodily cravings, I am one-sighted on pure peace, easy comfort and the next right action spouting easily from compassionate change.

Compassionate change–that will be my mantra today.  With the dear hand-holding of the One always near, loving myself until it overflows with kindness.  Today simply overflows with kindness all around me.

That is my mantra this week, at least today.  Easy comfortable flow of work, of plans for work, of change, of plans for change, of commuting, of walking, of talking. 

Like a slow clear river in the late winter.  The thaw has not yet swollen the banks and thrown trees and branches strewn on the side.  It is cold water seeping from the glaciers.  Ducks still bob and float, diving for goodness.  Cool refreshing and quiet, the river starts nowhere and ends in the infinite ocean.

Thus does the work, the plans, the drive, the thoughts–smoothly over rocks, around barriers, adjusting the sides, making detours, polishing everything in it’s path with the easy comfortable flow.

Down the river in a small raft, surrounded by fairies, is the Princess of Good, waving at me.  She stops in a small eddy near my feet and rests.  We’ve planned a long picnic here, sitting on the soft moss.  And we chat and sit in quiet for days under the warm sun and stars as She reminds me of her comfortable, easy flow.

What do the saints do when they get the doldrums?  What does the Dali Lama do–does he every just get tired of prayers and meditation?  What did Mother Theresa do when she got tired of helping the world? 

Is it an emotional hangover from facilitating deep and busy changes at work?  Is it just the wrong food for dinner last night?  Do I just need sleep?

Maybe the only thing is to let compassion to seep into my tired bones.  I allow my breath to bring in grace, move my body as it slowly will.  I let the next right action come right up to me. 

Today I follow my God nose–God knows the next step.  She still whispers in my ear if I am still enough to hear about goodness, grace, light and easy comfort.  She will tickle my elbow and bite on my ear when it is time to jump up and speak. 

I let Her lead today.

Today it is about standing in and with the Presence of the Prime Creator and allowing the best possible change evolve.  To be a change agent for the Divine–at every action, thought and feeling to be infused with kindness and goodness.

That is my prayer today.

There is such a voice within me that DOESN’T WANT TO DO ANYTHING!  Maybe it is my warrior voice that wants to escape routine, run from intimacy and leave behind all commitments.  Or better yet, don’t MAKE commitments and then no one will expect anything from you.  Yeah!

Maybe it comes from being the oldest of a big family, expected to help out, babysit and clean. 

It is in social engagement that much personal emotional wealth blossoms.  But sometimes I would much rather spend time with a tree or two.  They are eloquent, clear and deep.

Changing habits brings resistance.  Rebellion dogs every step, barking and snarling just on principle of DON’T LIKE CHANGE!  Maybe that comes from a youth where changes were markers of sadness and awkward times.

Centering in the now, I claim and honor my rebel inspiration.  I can be different, new and eccentric with kindness and clarity.  I can be different and social.  I can love myself just as I am and allow others to be themselves without demands.

And I can do that, because I am at one with the One that revolutionized the universe with us all.

I am playing with words to find my chant for the year.  I like Harmonic convergence, but it doesn’t quite express reinventing myself.  And I want to stand in the intention that I am converged in spirit here and now–present to goodness, grace and power.

Power seems to be energizing me a bit–after being completely vacant with the stomach flu.  What an interesting way to appreciate grace and humanity, sickness.

I am that I am that I am.  Standing in gentle harmonic power.  Compassion of the Buddhist and claiming that the One of All has my back–no matter what.  Leaning in to the Divine and knowing that She leans back into me.

Back again from the land of the stomach flu.  Phew.  What a unique way the Universe has to tell you to release absolutely everything and get empty.  A bit violent, but effective.

Now tentatively re-entering my days, I am ready to re-invent myself.  “Harmonic convergence adventure” is what comes to mind.  But those aren’t quite the right words.  I need adventure or I will stir it up otherwise, and I’ve done the troublesome route before and the wreckage is such a bother.

Adventure like a new look, new haircut and certainly a new attitude.  A focus on me kindly.  To be the truth of me first, then overflow to others.  Fill up the bowl of me in a new way and see how it overflows to others. 

The habit of spending time to irrigate life to nourish others as a primary concern is a habit I intend to change, dissolve, allow to fade.  Asking myself what is the truth of me right here, right now.  The Presence of the Adventure of Me.

Because inside me, surrounding me as my skin, is Thee.

What does grab us by the Spirit, our deepest innards?  When the heart feels like it was snatched and wrung out with tears, or thrown into the sky with joy?

For me these days, it is guaranteed that if I look at a tree, I will be transfixed.  Steady, faithful, true yet bending.  They teach me again and again to stay rooted, but stretch and stretch up and up.  Let the wind wander around me–to have it’s way with me.  But keep slurping up the grace from the dear planet beneath me.

Trees don’t move much, and have a universe of endless change around.  Birds tickling them, seasons redressing them, growth opening them up at every moment.

May the sap-blood of a true tall tree be me today.

The Buddhists call it “groundlessness.”  I’m not sure what that means, but it is mentioned in context of getting familiar with fear, meeting it straight-on, facing it compassionately.  As it mentions from traditions in the Arkanis tradition–letting the fear go all the way through the body and when it is gone, only I remain.

If we are present with ourselves completely, the theory is that fear has no where to stick.  We can’t be running a story and be present at the same time.  Fear is a story, handed down, learned from the media, built up from a noise that goes bump in the night clustered with child spooks.

But being a human is a fragile tender thing.  We are not dinosaurs, roaming the earth for millions of years, towering over trees, thundering across the plains.  We are made of stars, but we are dust from their shadows.

As I remember to be present, so I am graced with the lovely story of the Presence, Her voice rustled near my neck, humming a song of Her love for me.