There are so many stories out there, in here.  Stories about religion, god, purpose of life, reason for living, why we cry, what is love, etc.  You’ve got to appreciate Battlestar Gallactica with their intricate and twisted philosophies getting the heart and mind searching and researching.

I find that nature is so much more reliable.  Seasons upon seasons declare an elegant recycling of soul.  The birds that tease dawn up over the dark hills dance with their song to a bright new day.  Spring flowers bursted blooms droop in freezing frost, and drink it up by midday.  Death is just a pause and a laugh.  The soil sprouts and bursts with life.  Plants eat sunlight, animals eat the green, humans eat animals.  And we all rest easy in the soft soil of Gaia at the end of the day.

This soothes my heart, and opens my silly busy mind to that brilliant stillness of grace.

Sit.
Still.
Sit.

Breathe.
Deep.
Breath.

Slow.
Walk.
Spring.

Root.
Stand.
Open.

Cellular ease.
Soul over body.
Spirit soothes mind.

Sit.
Still.
Sit.

I don’t drink–alcohol that is–any more, but I get hangovers.  Emotional hangovers, food hangovers, long working week hangovers, sleep too much hangovers even.  It’s that sluggish drag-your-body-out-of-bed feeling that pushes against the love of life. 

Who designed this life anyway?  Whatsup with this slow, creaky, tired body stuff?  Like resistance to breathing, wearing away of the body, and probably eventually the loss of working parts completely.

They say you have to use it or lose it, but the hypnotic routine of life demands sitting at a desk till stiff, eating food that is bad fuel, sinking into the couch watching a TV screen with idiotic horrific and bland images.  All this that stupifies the body into a reluctant morning.

ok, lucky for me I can take a breath, pull in the reality of unreality and know that I am more than this.  No matter that already the TV is on in the other room, my pants are too tight (who keeps synching up the waistband!?!), and I’m trudging off into a cold morning–I can breathe in the truth of who I AM.

I am that I am, and the Divine that Am is the am I am.  So there Ms. Divine–you get to experience the slow body and I get to sink into the sweet Spirit.

I have been lucky to find a spiritual group that I can go to almost any time of any day.  In fact, I’ve got experiences that allow me entry into a number of groups.  After years of attending, sharing and listening, the depth of compassion felt to me and for others is transforming.

The Divine made us so connected, and we designed this life pretending we were separate.  To sit and listen and feel to the bone what a fellow is talking about, to feel the resonance in the blood of the pattern and heartache and despair–it hollows out the inside.  In that open space of dear silence all of our hearts are filled up.  Nothing needs to be said and the touching comfort of each other fills every tiniest space between us with a golden thread of love.

I am grateful to recognize I falter.  Thus I have been gifted with hands that steady me, nodding heads that honor me, and depths of Divine eyes of excellent eternal love that shine through yours.

What is it with cars?  So many of us humans get caught up in the vehicles we use to traverse the earth.  And cars–for the rich western capitalistic world mostly–are like an extension of ourselves.  We push and shove on the road when we’re angry or busy; we dawdle on Sundays through the rolling hills; and we wash and wax with gentle care–sometimes more than we do with our families.

I love the idea that the Divine is everything.  Through me, in me, around me, above me and everything else.  The theory that we are all different vibrations of one string, strumming in a universe of variety, connects me with all around me: trees, earth, flowers, you, the keyboard, the desk–and my new car!

I dubbed it my angel car and now declare it to be the choice of the Lady–white, smooth, sleek and fast!  This is the year that I claim beauty within me and around me and here is my declaration of my extension on the road.  I now spread Her beauty, grace, charm and love on every road every day here and now, there and then.

zoom zoom ohhhhhmmmmm

I remember once being so concerned that we were polluting the earth, global warming, trash in the street.  Well it still is a concern, and I do my best to pick up what I see on the ground.  However during a meditation I found an image of the earth simply shaking itself like a huge dog.  The dirt and wet and garbage and maybe even us humans just flew off it like it was coming from a romp in the lake.  And the tiny globe of blue and green just smiled and went on to spawn new species and plants and dear animals.

We are so fragile, we are so small.  How do we assume to speak to the Prime Creator, the Holy Spirit, Gaia and the Deva Goddess?  Because She is inside me.  Never leaves me.  Earthquakes can come and go, I can die and be reborn–or not.  I declare and claim that the Divine Friend is as close to me as my skin, as dear to me as my heart.

She holds me and I hold Her.  Not even the earth can shake it up.

Indecision just lasts so long and then the urge to take action overcomes the wishy-washy doubts.  Just do it!  Rings in the ears.

What if we couldn’t POSSIBLY make a mistake?  What if success was irrelevant?  We’re not going to get to the other side and have someone say: “Uh, sorry, it really is about being skinny.”  Or, “well, you really don’t have enough money/toys/charm to get in.”

It doesn’t matter.  This is a joy ride, a Sunday tour of the country, a romp around the fairgrounds of life.  Living a rich, juicy life sometimes means taking risks and decisions that you change the next year/month/day.

It’s how you feel confident and loved in the middle of knowing that you stepped in it BIG time and you’ve been tracking it all over someone else’s nice rug.  That’s the ticket–how well can you back track, wipe it up, pay for the damage, convince her that you’ve learned a lesson and won’t forget or double book or have your hand drop again with such unskilled behavior.

How can you have a bad rollercoaster ride?  It’s just scary, risky, death-defying and hysterical fun!

Why is it hard for me to make a decision?  Ok, so it involves lots of money–for me–and time, and a vehicle and a self-image and that balance between “practicality” and what I really want.  “Do what your heart says!”  Geez, I urge people along those lines all the time, but for me?  Is it co-dependency?  Being smart?  Wanting attention?

Who knows.  Who cares?!  If life is about making a good story, than go for the good story.  Somehow I don’t think that at the end of the day, the angel at the gate is going to say: “You know, that car was NOT fuel efficient! You’ll have to go back 2 steps.”  HA.  Yeah, more likely she’ll say: “Cool car!  We loved riding on the roof!”

And in any case, the Divine Best Friend has Her forehead touching mine, giggling and conspiring to enjoy this life through me with glee and style.  I may not have Her wardrobe, but this year is about claiming beauty.  Claiming beauty and letting it overflow.

You are so beautiful to me.  You’re everything I hoped for, you’re everything I need.  You are so beautiful to me.  That’s for me, for Her and for you.

Gazing out my window at dawn over the mountains, grey skies layered with white brilliant, blue soft, and soaring birds.  So the Divine wants to know what it is to be human, huh?  How about this tired old body, this dull brain, the limbs that want to stay motionless while the brain keeps nudging with things to do, watching the hysterical facade of time.

It’s a bit funny to be Spirit inside this little capsule of protoplasm, hot then cold, amazed at the amount of clutter on the desk, piles of paper that may only be touched when I move from the house.  Tiny yellow buds wet with rain sparkle like crystals in the yard.

Universes within glances, endless possibilities sitting on my butt tired.  How do you like your blue-eyed girl now, Mr. God?

What if we were all tiny organisms inside a universe-sized body.  Like blood cells coursing along a path of a huge timeless organism that is maybe just getting up and preparing to go to work.  My day to day bumping around with people, feelings, arrangements, shower, driving, paper-pushing was essential to this galaxy fellow, bumping around in the same way.

I’ve been fussing with the idea of wanting to be different and feeling monstrously normal and average.  What is it that bugs me, that irritates me that I’m not somehow famous or recognized or maybe just rich?  I have a wonderful life with love, stability, friends, even family shows up now and again.  There’s some old belief inside me that I should be special.

But I am one of many, in a universe of zillions of beings trudging the path of happy destiny in so many different ways.  At the same time, we are at one with each other, interchangeably linked in this microscopic tiny slice of so-called time on this lovely little spark of earth.

Maybe that’s why I like talking to the gods, connecting with the Prime Creator deep in space–tickling Him and saying “hello there, Big Guy!  Thanks for thinking me up, I’m having a good time.  Want to be me today?” 

Maybe that’s what I’ll do for inspiration today–I’ll be the Creator in human form.  What would She like to do today?  Probably even more of what I do–talk to the proud red-winged blackbirds calling out for mates on top of the trees.  Or winging through the swamp, bald eagle, laughing and swiping at the screaming murder of crows.  We are all one.