There we were–angels all–furiously waving our hands: “Pick me!!  Pick ME!!”  We all wanted to try this new fad called “human being.”  We had heard so much about it, and the whole universe was fascinated that spirit could condense itself into such a tiny material space.  We wanted to try it–what an adventure!

Then poof, we slammed into a body within a body and pushed ourselves out to choke at this thing called breathing.  What a shock!  We instantly forgot all the excitement at this rollercoaster ride that looked so fun.  Gradually we learned the stories and rules around us for this so-called earth existence.  Lots of stories.

Today I am thrilled to sit next to one of my favorite angels as we wrestle and laugh at our attempts to wrangle our tiny minds around “life”.  Precious eyes, dear warm presence, deep within us, within you, I see the One I love and lean as close to you as I can.

There is a tree on my walk this morning that shows scars of severed branches, like weeping eyes now covered with amber scabs.  “I bleed and it heals,” she said, “or I fall and I am released, free to fly away.”  I bow and bend into her blessed pure acceptance.

With great wind and rain there are trees now done and bare, breathing a sigh of relief to sleep, leaving care behind for a season.  “Surrender to the season,” they say, “it is a wonderful release.”

I lean into the day, letting it carry me away as I rest on a float in a slow moving river.  Take me away Dear One, I release the steering and relax into the Path of Heaven.

We’re not sick or injured, we’re having a “healing experience.”  The first time I heard that, I coughed out of scepticism and judgment.  But if you truly take away all the “good and bad” stuff, see beyond duality to polarity, there is some truth to it.

A battered body from a car accident is plugged into wires, tubes to the arteries, monitors to the vitals, and given constant tests and retests, pain relievers, blood thinners, anti-inflammatories.  Trying to get her back to normal.  Since there is no such thing as “normal” (except as a setting on the washer machine), it really is about a life shift.  “Before” and “after” the accident will be a marker in the family.  Since then the body functions differently, scars are visible, perhaps a tender spot or the reach is slightly less.

If it is an experience to see more good, more god, more divine in action, it is obvious.  Friends show up with cards, gifts and flowers.  The boss calls, neighbors bring food, visitors just come to smile to see you alive.  Miracle stories are passed around, healing anecdotes and tales of hospital punctuations are shared.

God is everywhere, here and now, there and then.

I was thanking the trees for standing in the way of my niece, stopping her spinning car from the cliff, dodging her broadside and steadfastedly halting her–yet allowing her to stay on the planet.

“That’s what we’re here for,” they said.  “To stand by, line the roads, mark the edges, shade and support you.  We have made a pact, you and I, to work this land, massage the earth, dance with Gaia.  Moving or dust, leaves clapping or bare times, like a concert.  With a beginning, middle, bridges, interludes and an ending.”

We are early enough today to spy the swallows on their last swooping dive across the broad field.  Big fat seagulls strut through the soccer field, pumping out their white policeman chests as they made their patrols.  Late season frogs belch out deep tuba notes for the wet gray morning.  Serenade to a fallen season.

Forest bed disheveled with white underside leave sheets rumpled and brown traces of scattered summer color.  Paths crisscross the clearing all calling to me. 

All paths lead to You, all sidewalks built on Your shoulders, all scouting trips inspired by You, all adventures conspired with You.  All sorrows held by You.  All fears comforted with Your smile, caressed with Your infinite Presence.

When the sun is lower, the shadows are longer.  Sun and trees do nothing and are not scared of the darkness.  Shadows move as the earth moves.  Sun doesn’t move.  So I am moving–not the light.  I can move to be in the light or I can enjoy the shadow shade.

Though I am a shadow walker, I use the light as a compass, consulting it for directions whether I venture into a valley of loss or find a pass through a mountain of doubt.  The earth moves me.  Seasons shift my shadow and I feel lost in it.  I miss the sight of the omnipresent Light.

Navigating by the stars helps when the night is so long.  From bursting heat millions of years and miles away, I can still set my feet on an endless, winding, wandering splitting labyrinthian path with limitless views.

The sun never goes away.  Sometimes I turn my back to it and the shadow scares me.  Today I claim the warmth inside me that shines out, the eternal flame that lights the path from my heart.

It takes only a second to be distracted.  Perhaps a phone buzzing, dropping a napkin, or adjusting the radio.  All of a sudden a normal drive through a familiar neighborhood is frozen in time for family members throughout the continent.  A car accident, a young woman bleeding, organs damaged, threat to sight, screaming weeping silent pain from mother, sister, father, siblings, grandmother.

And we pray incessantly.  For life to turn better, for healing, for peace, for acceptance, for strength, for the Presence of the Oneness, the faith of unknown safety and infinite love to be heard throughout our lives–no matter what.  No matter where we are, how our bodies are twisted or giggling, to be eternally hand in hand with the Dear One.

From Hafiz:

God and I have become like two big fat people in a small boat.
We keep bumping into each other and laughing.
_____

I want to be in God’s way.  I want to be pushy, snotty, blocking Her path.  Bouncing back and forth like I’m guarding Her basketball shot.  I want to sit on the path and demand directions.  I want to get in Her face forever.

Since physics was not a part of a parochial school curriculum, I’m not sure if I’m remembering the rule right.  There’s no such thing as inertia–all of matter is so linked with energy that even if a thing seems to be inert–unmoving–it is buzzing with whirling atoms, electrons, quarks and other funny sounding little dervishes.

Therefore when my brain is sodden with dullness, heart heavy with doubt, arms loose and dangling, the theory is that something is getting ready to happen.  Practicing Source energy is what seems to increase Source energy.  But it is just the awareness of the River that is flowing constantly.  And just because I move around the bend, get ready to shift and/or the geography changes around me, it doesn’t mean the River has disappeared or dried up.  It is a function of a new set of glasses and a swing in my perception.

Let’s swing!  Get on that little board hanging between two long chains and push off into the horizon! 

We all seem to have a purpose in life: to be comfortable.  We save for a vacation.  I dress warm in cold weather and make sure all my gloves are in the pockets of all the jackets.  We adjust the car seat and complain when it doesn’t quite meet our needs.

But it seems most of my life these days is discomfort.  Unemployed, disconnected, feeling like an anchor was cut off and I’m floating on rough seas.  I know I’m in a trough of a change, and the ever-moving ocean will not cease tides and waves.  A change will happen, and I’m in the neutral zone with fog on either side of me.

Today I bless the ache of nothingness and bless the unknown that grimaces at me like a snarling jack-o-lantern.  I will lean into Her soft cheek nestled at my neck and rock myself to ease with the lullaby of Her love.

There is an ache in the air.  Perhaps it is the fragrance of burning leaves, slow and in fires.  It could be the sound of a sobbing child on the phone or the stumbling walk of my dear old dog.  It seems that even deep breaths pull in my chest a chilling mist of the unknown, doubt and helplessness.

So my walk this morning was to breathe in the beauty and stand in the gratitude of here and now.  Brilliant colors against the purple threatening sky.  Crisp cool air and gentle conversation in the neighborhood.  Breathe in heaven and release the ache.  I stretch out the tight muscle in my heart, reaching open for more of the giggling Halloween decorations, the grimace of well-carved pumpkins, the thoughtfulness behind the straggling spider webs in makeshift cemeteries.

Honoring the change that whispers forever over my shoulder, I breathe in the beauty of Good, pull deep on the smell of bread baking, bask in warm cleansing shower.  And sway back and forth alone in the house as She croons to me like a sensuous black blues singer.