Ah, if I were perfect in spirit (ok, I wouldn’t be here–I’d be “there somewhere”), I would start each day with a pure vision.  A vision of Light and Love and the Way of the Comforter.  There are those mornings when my spirit reaches through the doubts, insecurities and machinisms of the busy mind and settles in ease.  And then there are those mornings when I’m late, disheveled and cranky.

I cherish the practice of settling into the story of my spirit that is endless, kind, open and fearless.  At the center I am in love with Gaia, the devas and the fairies who swarm and giggle around me on earth.  My toes reach deep in the luscious mud of here and now.  And in that instant rooting the branches of my shoulders sink into the purity of their strength and my hair tingles with the brilliance of sunlight on my rain-soaked tender twigs.

I miss my kin, but I hear their soft warm voices whispering me to inspiration.  I hear Her humming the lullaby of Her beautiful Way.  Today as I walk the window-less corridors of industry today, I smile that no one can see me–the walking tree.

No matter what anxiety or worry or monkey mind I can come up with, I have a firm belief that there is a peace within it, beyond it, above it, surrounding it.  The problem is that my mind is most times blind to peace.

The mind, being a human–earthbound–organ, is tethered to the concerns of the body.  It fears accidents, humiliation, snafus, food on the front of the shirt, missed appointments, feeling stupid, etc.  All these concerns are about looking good, avoiding the truth of being a brilliant piece of Gaia. 

We are not bound by so-called success.  We are, by nature of our spirits playing with bodies, a complete and utter unqualified universally thrilled victory.  We are here, doing this breathing thing, going to work, picking up the dishes, feeling love from the crotch to the eyes.

I bow to the God within to that I AM within you.  Namaste.

I’m off to meet new angels today.  New family, new friends, new teachers dark and light.  After a year (ok, 11 months)a new job.  Like a midwife, I’m asked to come in and coach a group along a path.  There will be new people coaching me as I walk in the middle of a caravan already moving along the highway.

Sweet souls to watch, to wonder and to love, I claim the Angel of All blesses us this morning in the dark winter with the glimmer of green within us.  I cling to the Tree of my heart, rooted deep in my feet that caress the earth and the branches that reach to grace with fragrant breath.

All the angels in my past, who have mulched and fertilized me, cheer me on.  I lean into You today, who are steadfast at my back, leaning into my shoulder, whispering sweet everythings into my ear.  You who go before me to spread petals of violets and lilac, who sing siren songs behind me and who gazes into my eyes with bottomless Love.

New year intentions are funny.  First of all that we pick this arbitrary calendar day, and second to attest to earnest change.  Conscious change takes practice.

My anthem for the year is a bit awkward: True Heart Beauty.  It may soften to a phrase or evolve into a path.  It is something to hang my daily hat upon, a core compass to touch when the whirlwind of human stories gets me dizzy.

Truth of me–what is the momentary truth of me?  That is the first question.  What would Love do?  That is the second question.  FInally, if this Love shines from the inside out–how can that brilliant beauty soften me like a Diana or Theresa or Elizabeth or Carmen–the beauties of the day?  Beauty is the shining of smile that lights up the room and the poise of peace that reassures grace.

True Heart Beauty is the Goddess that leads me through the day today.

Like a spiral, life seems to be the same, but it is never the same.  Moving slightly up, sideways, inside or down, it turns and twists.  I have to allow the mind it’s silly attempts at figuring out and understanding.  But you cannot stand under the world or the soul or the heart.  It simply is.  We simply be.

Living from the heart like a baby, I am newly born and beautiful.  Standing, pausing and slowly stepping into the fear of looking stupid, naive, childish and ignorant, I move and turn.  I can twist like a spinning dervish or look around me and breathe deeply the fragrant garden.  I cannot fail. 

Each breath is a success when every sight, sound, sniff and touch is a gift.

Dear One who listens at my neck for the hum of human singing, I lean back into You.
My heart beats faster yet my body settles into the quiet womb of earth when I feel You are near.

I breathe deep in the sweet fragrance of Your light.  It fills the space within my cells and the silence between insight and release of Your Spirit through my adoring body.

Come my Love and live through me.  Dance with my hands waving, feet stomping, voice giggling and squealing to the music of my day.

There really is no such thing as a “new year.”  The original humans celebrated spring–the vernal equinox–as the start of the new year when all the earth sprouted fresh green. 

In fact, each day brings me a chance to see differently.  I have learned through days and weeks of despair that there is no Grinch standing above me forcing me to depression and worry.  It is a choice.

Yet clearly, as a human, I forget every other moment.  I am distracted by body changes, the weather, personal bumps and knocking in the car engine, of the brilliance I feel when I recognize there is no time or space or matter.  It’s a question of mind over matter, and If I release my mind–nothing matters!

Beauty is a combination of Presence and Love.  I believe that as I claim those grace-full qualities, every so-called second is new.

If I want to open for new experiences and make a personal shift, I have to clean out the closet and junk drawers in my mind.  I truly do not need old hard candy, dead batteries, an abundance of twisties for plastic bags.  I have a tendency to hold on to items “in case I’ll need them in the future”–despite the fact that I do not like hard candy, could never use dead batteries and use zip-lock bags now.  I don’t need clothes that don’t fit, never liked, and/or felt awkward.

I intend to use this discernment on my attitudes, perception and motivation energy.  I don’t need to drag around old stories of bad character, loss, stupid human tricks and “criticism of previous work environments.  I’m going to throw away used up judgments that I picked up from others because they sounded good.  They just don’t fit. 

My face is beautiful.  My face is beautiful.  That is one of my anthems this year, to carve a new path in my head from the childhood “ugly duckling” idea and the adult excuse that I’m a good old dog.  I choose to see beauty around me, to shine it and to declare it surrounds me.

I claim a beautiful new year.

I see it in the middle of a deep conversation about old patterns bumping up against new intentions.  First there is this wide-eyed terror, perhaps of intimacy or change, and protective voices from infancy scream at me to back off.  If I can convince them I am on their side, reminding them of our decision to come to this beautiful planetary adventure, I see Her.  I see Him.  I see the Creator, I see the Eternal One in their eyes.

It is a cosmic memory of infinite fun.  That brief flash of internal knowing–gnosis–sets the compass once again.  The voices may jump in with excuses and deflection, even crowding out all serenity for the story of human limitation.  But I see it.  That flash that sends shivers through the universe and shifts the mountain ranges.

I forever play this game with You.  You hide behind loss and grief.  You sneak beneath work and family and daily excitement.  But You squeal with giggles when I get that glimpse of Your galactic magnificence.  Let us play again and again and again and again and again.

Only someone who has survived some really good mistakes, or walked through horrendous tragedy can appreciate the gift that pain can bring.  When I first heard of this idea, I slammed the door in vicious scoffing.  Who wants pain!?!?  Not me!

But then I found myself almost drowning in pain–of my own doing.  Only with weeks and months of realizing I was not going to die from the pain, that each morning sitting on the side of my bed and finding myself breathing–for no apparent purpose–did I recognize I had to move forward.

I’m not a proponent of pain, but I do now see that it is a pathway to transformation, even peace.  The trick is that I didn’t die.  I could try drinking or obsessing until I died, but the idea of reincarnation scared me.  Killing myself and waking up to the same kind of living hell would be worse.

These days I make friends with pain.  Since it’s there in my heart or body, I invite a conversation.  After whining and complaining and anger and the core of fear, it opens my heart to even more faith.  Pain is the body talking.  However now we have a three-way conversation with the Divine Presence.  She always comforts and soothes the earth-bound part of me and reminds me of the brilliant light shining through all pain.