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.

Like just sitting in the shallow part of the lake and letting the silt settle down.  My website is still not alive and well.  I speak to no one but myself and the Dear One.  Which is what it always is, I suppose.  Whoever is, is part of the Divine. 

Reading Meister Eckhart these days, another brilliant heretic who comprehended Buddhism without the Heart Sutra to read.  A Taoist who never saw the Tao Te Chin.  He speaks of the original blessing–that we are co-creators with the limitless power of the Divine.  And it makes so much sense.  We are an evolving piece of art, reproducing with each touch of the keyboard, swipe of the paintbrush, breath and spoken word throughout the day.

Today I quiet the irrational disturbance, the inner arguments, the nasty judgments and let those useless and tiny points of dirt settle into Gaia’s soul.  I take the mud and make a gift back to the earth from which I came.

I’m in one of those clouds that simply seem to block out all memory of the sun.  Even when I feel the warmth, I deny that it is really a nice day.  I want the rain to keep people running to their cars instead of talking to me.  I want to stay under the covers instead of embracing the day.

There is a theory that when good things happen to people who have struggled much of their lives, that they have a hard time accepting the good and releasing the habit of struggle.  I may be in that conundrum.  A good job, great relationship, steady home.  And all I think about is too busy, tiresome tasks, drudge of getting up in the morning, and dreading appointments.  Wow.  what a life.

Asking those resistant isolating voices, the deepest I get is that I’m still grieving.  Something.  Someone.  Feeling alone and life just seems too much. I sure hope it doesn’t last long.

Dear One, infuse me with your beauty and energy.  Allow me to see the world as your garden, with an eternal spring of goodness and grace.  Open my eyes to the delicate joy of touching people’s lives as I hold Your hand.  Remind me that I am on an adventure we planned together and let me feel Your whisper in my ear always: “I love you just the way you are.”

It is truly weird to know that no one, actually is reading this now.  The site is down, snafu.  My aim in writing is and always was to transpose the harsh human morning into a Divine gift.  So anyone reading is extra.  I’ve been called to offer the world Her Words.  Well, my words trying to open my stubborn stupid screaming idiot heart to Her words to share with you.

Not sure how well that works.  But here goes again.  In case my site ever goes live again.

So I’m out of balance.  Lost perspective.  Wanna crawl under the covers.  Seek for energy but don’t want to move an iota out of place to achieve it.  Grab for responsibility and then don’t want to respond.  Or begrudgingly.  What a pouty kid. 

I was taught to combat this kind of maudlin mess by doing something for someone else.  And then part of what’s happening now is that I’ve committed to a job that takes enormous time.  But in the job I work for others every minute.  Perhaps I’m being called to shift my vision.  I am there for a reason to serve the Divine by each tiny task I complete, begin, muddle through.

Oh Sweet One, energize me, shine through me today to show those who don’t know they seek You, how pure and lovely is Your Presence.  May I be the place today that you walk on the earth–warts and all.

That would be a good name for a rock band, Screaming Idiots.  There is so much noise in my head that isn’t productive or creative.  Tempting whiners that tell me I’m old and don’t want to move.  Depressed lazy voices that decide I have no talent, so I should stop trying so hard.  Even the “gotta do it now” voice that dumps guilt on me when I just sit.  Not to mention the argument it gets into with the voice that self-righteously mentions I should meditate every moment.

What an idea it was to inherit this human mind of talking, thinking, communicating, so-called “reasoning.”  If only I could really allow it to be like the bark of a tree, or a leaf on a flower–just a part of me. 

Keeping the One in my mind’s eye gives me a higher view, a sunrise of exquisite beauty that guides me to be new and new and renew.  Fresh air today, lots of fresh air of clear beauty to stun and silence the screaming idiots.  Her simple gesture quiets the crowd.