Being human is a bother sometimes.  I get these old habits that just don’t work with a “mature” body.  So I’m faced with a choice–forge new habits, reinforce them again and again.  Or just fall back into the old patterns that stoop me over, clog my body, mess my mind.  Oh but those are so familiar and cozy–reticence, procrastination, laziness, indulgence.  Yum.

And then the waking up creaky and stiff and stupid.  It used to be the price for being young and silly.  Now it shows up as the cost of carelessness towards what has been a damn good body this round.

The Divine is in love with me, no matter what sugar I eat, bad movies I watch, lazy days of indulgent reading I spend. But there is that sweet Voice within me that wants to play on Her beautiful earth as long as possible, as clear as I can be to laugh and giggle at how She has Her Way with me.

Resting today on Mary, Isis, Athena, Gaia and Kwan Yin’s dear guiding arms.

Understanding is vastly over-rated.  Sure, getting the hang of a checkbook, investments, how to cook better and use programs, for instance, is helpful.  But do we really need to figure everything out?  I don’t think so.

There is this drive in us sometimes that says “If I can understand this, I can conquer it.”  But understanding relationships, or someone else’s behavior, or even the chemistry of cooking, rarely allows me more power in the situation.  The season, the weather, that time of month, the ionic atmosphere–and mystery–just seem to make some kind of effect on family, friends and food.  And there are so many millions of elements that can slightly affect change.

Thus I have to relax and pull back from the fierce determinism that drives me to ask more questions (interrogate my boss, actually), find out the details of what my child did, or what my friend really meant, or why that recipe didn’t work out.  I just need to get balanced myself and offer my authentic self.

“Know thyself” is an age-old popular metaphysical rule.  But it doesn’t say “understand yourself.”  The gnostic meaning of “to know” is a mystical internal recognition of the Way; a deep sense of rootedness and balance.  It is not a measurement of all elements and a statistical prediction of the next step.

I think it comes down to faith.  Faith that I am in the right place and this “now” is most excellent.  If I stay with the Divine “here and now,” there truly is nothing to “figure out”.

I was thinking that’s what humans are, after all–Love plus mud.  HA.  We are the inspirational thought of the Divine cloning itself–along with all sorts of game rules like FORGETTING that completely.  Then She dove into the beautiful mud of this planet, and covered with wonderful slime, called Herself me–and you–and all of us.

So here we are sometimes, throwing mud at each other, screaming and yelling and giggling and sighing and even pretending to drown.

As I hear the soft soothing rain falling, I breathe in the memory of how wonderful and idea it was to become me as Her here.  I’m off to wiggle my toes in the mud.

I like to think of this human experience as a game.  Perhaps competition against myself.  My best time as a human, or best game so far as a human.  I mean, is there a human who hasn’t played or watched a game played?

World Cup, Stanley Cup, Olympics, dice, dominos, runes, cards, chance.  From prehistoric natives to the royal rich in skyscrapers, there are games.  And certainly each one of us have played games with each other or again, saw them played against each other: war, terror, manipulations, buy-outs, gossip.  Even good games: rituals, coming of age, birthday parties, weddings and funerals.

So my life, rather than a lesson handed to me by a terse teacher, is arranged by a master of the court, the producer of the games.  She sets the stage, provides the balls, opens up this astounding court called Earth.  In fact, She is my coach, cheering from the sidelines and today, when I catch my breath between strokes, I glance within and see Her applauding me.

Why is it that addicts can’t be addicted to good stuff?  I suppose there are some out there that do get the “spirit” and are stuck on good stuff, like religion or meditation. 

Ok, let me rephrase this: why can’t I get addicted to what’s good for me–like carrots and tai chi and meditation and vegetables and brown rice.  Geez.  Is it just my humanity, my personality, the seasons, the planets.  Or am I just really in a lazy time.

I used to avoid the word discipline, well, I guess I do still.  However hearing that a meaning of the word is “to remember what you love” gives me hope.  I remember I love the feeling after doing tai chi.  I remember that I love walking quietly in meditation.  I remember loving the work I do listening to others and seeing their divine spark within.

But then again.  I LOVE brownies with french vanilla bean ice cream, and carmel sauce.  Some how my little earthly mouth waters more over that than carrots.

Today I will remember what I love so to carve those taste memories for what feeds me, heals me, soothes me, comforts me for the whole day.  I choose to remember Her sweet check next to mine, Her soft giggle that reminds me this human life was my idea and to live in what I love with each breath.

What a web we have here.  The tangled threads of communication between each other amazes me.  It seems sometimes a miracle that we can really trust that one word from me truly is heard by you.  No matter if I’m tedious about spelling and locution, how I speak, my body language, tone of voice and the font I use. 

There are some days that I wonder if I’m speaking in my own special tongue that is gibberish to every person standing wide-eyed and nodding in front of me.  They are trying to be nice and acting like they recognize my speech, but maybe they are complacent and ignorant of any meaning.

Then once in a while the light shines in their eyes and I see You in there smiling so sweetly and warm.  Perhaps we are the fingers of God reaching out to each other, finding a way to fold neatly together, held in a mudra of peace.

The mind cracks me up–when I’m balanced.  It thinks it runs the show.  I mean..really!  Try “thinking” a change of the weather, or through heartache or feelings.  Well it doesn’t work for me.

Understanding is such a tease.  There is something in us that struggles again and again with the belief that if I just understand it, I will feel better.  Ha.  It is more true to say if I feel better, I won’t have to worry about understanding.

And beneath all the feelings and desire for understanding is the hunger to feel safe and loved.  That’s what it gets down to for me.  A cross look, a mistake, a long tiring drive, a misunderstanind–all these melt down to the feeling that I’m alone and unloved.

Which, of course, is a big fat lie.  The Dear One is forever with me, always loving.  Our funny chess game together is that She keeps locking me down with the pieces of my life trying to make me think–get it “think”–differently.

But my heart is trump, I’ve got a hand of aces and I know She’ll let me win if I throw them up in the air and laugh full out with joy.  “I LOVE this game with You!!!”

So Hafiz says that we take life too seriously.  That it is really all about laughing through a game with God who, after all, knows all the moves.  You can take that seriously of course, and argue the lack of free will in the face of a manipulative supreme being.  Shake your fist to the sky and wrestle with the angel in the middle of the night.

Or you can enjoy the game.  I play against people better at games than me all the time and the tide still seems to go back and forth and we both laugh.  Maybe God gets giggling when She pretends to think She won’t win?  Maybe She lets me think I win now and again and pouts like I do when I sometimes hit the wall.

I’m not very competitive though.  I love the interaction, not the reward.  I will ride the carousel and even forget to reach for the ring.  It is more like a dance to me–partners moving sensuously together with the music.

And She is such a wonderful dancer–letting Her lead is divine.

So the story is that Mercury is retrograde–plans, communication, transportation–all may seem thwarted, backwards, snafu’d.  It’s just a joke–a huge practical joke that God and the planets love to play on us.  It’s not just Mercury (or really any planet), it’s just the natural season of snafu.

Mistakes glomm onto me like lint on a hot towel.  My eyes do tricks on me.  I go to the store for one thing, come away with 10 things and forget that one needed item.  I talk about this, you want to talk about that; we bump.  I plan for this project, I make all the dots and lines and numbers line up, and all the meetings are moved three times in one morning.  I watch the traffic sites, calculate my route, and we watch 5 police cars in the middle of the road for nothing.

Just got to laugh and laugh and laugh.  Who ever said that we needed to take this life SERIOUSLY!?!?  What if, instead of a human tragedy, or drama, that this was intended to be FUN!  What if this was a tremendously GOOD idea–to be human, to walk this precious earth, to hug trees and play with children and try on ruffled clothes or sink my toes in warm mud.

Today I laugh with the dancing planets, bowing trees and brilliant day.

Under the trees this weekend.  Big trees, tall trees, covered with moss at the bottom so their limps hung out like zombies.  Their tops touching the sky, the ground soft with their tiny tender droppings.  The sound of the rushing river washes over the gentle forest, a constant meditative ohhmmmm.  Reminding me that this IS my home.

I weep when I leave the trees.  These are my soul mates.  This is my roots, my home.  I never want to leave.  I can’t remember why I need to go back.  I sob as I decamp, feeling so lonely as a small human.

But they gave me a hopeful reminder as I looked up at the firry sky above me.  Their soft whisper gave me hope and strength: This IS your home.  You are just visiting the city.  Have a nice visit and we’ll see you soon.

Now I can relax as I rush to dress and fight traffic, that I’m just visiting here.  It brings gratitude into my day and I live in my home, the oooohhhmmm, with every breath.