Wind removes dead branches so the green shoots can have more nourishment.  The blustery breezes sweep away the dust and the sand so a new level is exposed to the rain and sun.

I feel the wind rushing around my ears as a shift and change.  Transformation is constant.  I morph like a science fiction shape-shifter.  One minute I’m in comfortable ragged clothes and the next putting on my game face.

But it is like playing with a yo-yo.  I pull myself in, I throw myself out.  I am connected at Your finger with a string made of love.  Pull me into Your hand.  Hold me there in a soft firm grip, and send me out into the world with the force of Your Kindness, brilliance and magic!

So, is the path wet and muddy, or paved and dry?  Do you have to pick your way around clumps of stubborn weeds and twisted briars?  Or is it a dry clear dirt path in a wide open meadow?

It changes, doesn’t it?  One minute we’re snuggling and giggling and the next minute snarling because of throwing away too much bad leftovers.  One day you’re walking to the market for fresh vegetables and the next day you’re trembling trying to pull your friend out of the rubble that is left of her home, crowds screaming in the distance for a food riot you are missing.

Is it just a path really, or is a “lesson”?  Is it just the way it is, no reward or punishment, or is it a terrifying moment when your heart stops…but you are not the lucky one to die.

I have died and cursed the stubborn breathing that still kept my body alive.  So for me, there must be more.  Welcome to my path.

That is why it is my imagination or faith that each morning I claim My Dear Friend that walks within me, beside me, above me, below me, around me, surrounding me–as close as the tender tiny bones inside my toes.

The ground never again stops shaking.  Each tremor of the room is once again the end of the known world.  Families, friends, courtyards, streets, neighborhoods and whole cities reduced to rubble and dust. 

From dust we emerge, from dust we return.  Where is the Divine in this–I hear the murmurings.  Where is the good in the spirit here?

It is in the land beyond life and death.  As Krishna reprimands Arjuna in the Gita, “None of you have been born and none of you will die.  Get out there and be true to the dance you chose.”  (Ok, not translated literally.)  Someone once said to me–“So that means this politician is to be an asshole and I am to hate him.”  Sounds like a familiar dance to me.

So thousands die, cities are flattened debris, the world watches and sends as much love and help as possible.  Media shrinks it to the nearby country and anguish is the choice of news today.

If death is not a miser, but a path home, how many would scream at me when I say: Welcome home my beautiful dears, thank you for the astounding dance.

Rain rain rain.  Driving in rain in the dark to work.  Coming home in the rain in traffic in the dark.  Time to get friendly with the shadow.

Can’t please everyone.  Not my business why she gets quiet and somber.  I’m not supposed to mind-read at work, but do my work and step back–the only way to serenity.

The first element of our human life is love.  Then fire, air, water and earth; then bodies and form and function and brains.  The first thought should be love–what would love do?

I am not a god, but I am filled with the Divine One in every cell and fiber.  I do not make the planets move, but each time I breathe and walk across the room, the galaxy sings to Her dance.  I cannot change traffic, but in the dark car, stiff from sitting, I can listen to Her lullabyes and sway to Her loving music.

I dress each day for work wondering if I should look blue–intuitive and soft, or black–decisive and intense.  Or maybe brown–claiming the soft easy earth, or a burgundy–the combination of action (red) and the earth (brown).

A bit of an actress, I present myself confident and I feel confident.  But it is these morning openings.  When I sit and open my fingers up for the soft flow of goodness that comes from within and around me, that settles my stomach, relaxes my shoulders and reminds me that my blood and nerves are not mine.

I am a channel and an actress filled with Her Love.  I am a place on this lovely planet when God dresses up as me.  She wakes up in the morning and sits up to delight about playing with the dear Gaia and all the devas dressed up as people.  The Divine One smiles at seeing Himself in each person we met, and laughs at the game of traffic.

Hello God, let’s have a fun day!

Hello out there Divine One.  Hello inside me, Divine One.  Hello to me, Divine with One.

I breathe in your Presence that is always my breath.  I sit on your lap which is always my seat.  I play with the keyboard of your heart, my fingers, my heart.

Today I may forget that you breathe through me.  I may be acting as a professional, I may be fumbling with my presentation, I may be focused on making them laugh out of nervousness.

But I know you are within.  I know you always chuckle at my jokes.  You are there to watch and hold my hand as I stroll, sprint, sit and crawl along this Path we designed together.

I am grateful that you are nearer than my skin, closer than the beat of my heart.

Every morning, I guess, is a reboot of my rusty computer self.  A new day, similar routine, different tasks.  But each morning I am grateful to sit and remember who I am.

I am that I am that I am as part of the Brilliant I Am.  Whether curled up inside a tapestry and jeweled Elephant, riding on the shoulders of a cosmic-sized warm Carpenter, or cradled in the arms of Grandmother Goddess, I am that I am within.

Stretching my day at all ends, I claim the rich gift of life–human/spirit/animal Divine.

Being human and all, I feel the tightness in my back, those steel rods of a shield that intensify when I prepare for work, do the bills, check accounts, shop with limited funds.  I recognize the clenched fist in my gut that plagues me with the illusion: “There is never enough!”

When I take a deep cleansing centering breath, I rest in my roots that I sit on the back of a bejeweled elephant.  She twists her grand head to glance back at me and smiles.  She nudges me with her serpentine trunk, folds her ears back and flies through the air.  We are on wings of the dawn, above the rain, dipping into the glistening mountain passes.  I am lifted up.

With the feet so sweetly settled on this blue-green earth, I cannot expect to be in the air all the time, but each morning I remember to fly.

What a gift to see the sun.  It has been hidden for days behind the essential clouds and rain that have colored the world green.  Now we see the green and the inside of my soul is dancing.

Oh that I could know without any ever doubts that this sunshine green comes from within!  I could see none of it out there if I did not recognize it’s warmth and light from Her heart that beats inside my chest.

I’m ready for sandals and bright colored light shirts and picnics and music–bring on the sun of this brilliant golden ring to be a human spirit on this beautiful planet!

I have to create a powerpoint deck for my boss today.  It’s a perfect spiritual inspiration for the predawn meditation.  The point of power is now.  How can I portray the power in the point I’m trying to convey?  Can I speak from this power?  What is my point?

And what about my Word documents?  Do I document my words?  Do I recognize that the word is the very first point of power?  These days you can Google God.  How about if I google God all day long!?  I can be a Mozilla Firefox for the Divine!  I can Explore and Inter-connect with the Sweet One through my fingers, my surfing (let’s hit that white beach), when I click my mouse.

The mouse is Ganesha’s companion.  I seek to snuggle with the mouse that nibbles at the toes of He who stands at the gate of demons and angels, humans and divine, animals and people.  I bow and wash the feet of the I AM that holds the millions of galaxies in Her head, the wisdom of the ancients in Her soft folded hands.  She guides me in each instant to the point of power.