Rebellion dogs our every step.  Barking and yelping and howling and moaning overprotective warnings on the slightest change.  Fear of not enough creates not enough walls that slam a barrier.  I seek, I ask, I knock to recognize the bridge of inspiration to create more bridges and soothe all the dogs in the neighborhood.

Easy IS doing it.  Peace now surpasses all logic and understanding.  The dogs quiet with a bone of no contention.  Faith is all that is.  Fear is a faux friend that is still afraid of the dark, refusing to grab the candle, losing the flashlight, trembles to switch on the lamp and open the drapes. 

Fear of the future keeps me from trying every instrument, performing each experiment and testing every hypothesis to a movable manifestation.

Life can change the goal posts, but not the field of possibilities.  Barking dogs of fear and chirping birds of ever present Spirit composes the symphony of my neighborhood today.  We sing and howl in joy.

Today my connection with You is in the eyes of my daughter.  You are green with mystery, dark with delight, as familiar as my fingers.

Surfing the surging waters of feelings, I relax into the now.  And love.

Thick lush green canopy.  Diligently washed path with steady night rain.  Gray comfort clouds. There is never a question of the next indicated action in the woods.  Life is automatically and intrinsically fulfilling.  Food, shelter, communication and just singing is the daily grind.  I seek this soothing peace of being.

With the Divine as my magnetic north, my roots sinking deeper and deeper into gratitude, facing renewal and honoring the natural swing of endings.  My mind set deep in Her heart.  My heart resting in Her mind.  My arms dancing to the music of the Tao, and my legs strong on the power of His path.  When the time comes to seek, I seek.  When it is the moment to rest, I rest in the leisure of the leisure of the leisure of love.

My heart is a wide open clear channel to surge and overflow in deep delight, satisfying intentions and everlasting creations.

Hear me gods!  Within me and surrounding me, in the center of the universe, Prime Creator and dallying in the sweetest hidden violet–Hear my cry!  I claim your peace!  I grab your grace!  I insist on your Presence!

As the whirlwind screams and complains and tumults in my path, as the illusion of resources shrink and whither, as the moaning of future fears send their siren screech, I declare Your embrace!  I find your eyes, I clasp your hand, I center in your heart.

The daisies shout and cheer from the purple-topped grass field, “Here and Now!  Here and Now!  Here and Now!”

I am Yours.

I have been gifted with membership in a very exclusive fellowship, the initiation of which is a near-death experience with the ultimate crash of powerlessness.  It was the best thing that ever happened to me.  Weird, huh?

As part of my continuing membership, I am asked to share the story of how I got there through the crash, how I crawled my way out of the piercing pain, and what it is like now with this new perspective.

There is no beauty in the world, in any internal or external galaxy, that matches the exquisite and tender unfolding of a fellow’s path.  Across the table, coffee cup in hand, eyes darting and hesitating–staring off into the distance of the pain, the blossom of a new personal spring reveals itself to me.  I am invited to a blessed brilliant mansion with a secret garden of sweet splendor–another human heart tentatively unfolding petal by painful petal of patterns and fears and hopes and joys.

Once again I am drunk on the Divine I see in Your eyes.

In the sixties, this was about substituting a daisy for a rifle.  The students at Kent State gave their lives for this statement.

But today I want to be the power in a flower.  The tiny violets and forget-me-nots remind me of mornings gathering a childhood bouquet for my mom.  Love in blooms.  Hollyhocks might still be growing where they once bordered the chocolate brown bungalow.  This morning even the bare stalks of wind tossed tulips stand proud and perfect.  The trees are heavy with white on white, pink inside pink, and rose-colored fruit flowers, but the green leaves are gaining presence to widen through the summer.

Intrinsic everlasting beauty that is completely delighted to last for a couple weeks a year.  Staunch stems without petals proud of singular purpose and poise.  Rising in potential promise as the green fuzzy peony pods.  Confetti tossed petals on bare concrete sidewalks celebrating release again and again and again.  This is the power that I claim today.

My true personal Divine Gardener has planted me in love, tenderly setting my roots here and now, nourishing me with Her grace every breath second, smiling and cooing at me as I bend in the wind of this brilliant life on this breathless planet.

As the saying goes: “I feel so much better now that I’ve given up hope!”  Wondering if a I get a new job is like worrying about not getting a job–both useless future tripping.  But both very hypnotic mind whirls that jump me in the morning before I open my eyes, and play havoc with my dreams.

Today is about being free and easy.  The path is easy and I am free to stroll.  The next indicated actions are clear, even if it is to move dishes, sweep the floor, pay a bill, return a call. 

The air is filled with lilac love.  The birds are busy with life.  Grass continues on its passion to crack concrete with easy simple next actions of growth.  I am a channel through which the Divine Lady indulges in easy, free, human spring.

Just pause for a moment.  A slow breath in.  Hold.  A releasing easy breath out.  Right here.  Right now.  Is the Presence.  Feel it in my body.  Breathe it from the air around me.  Let it go back out for more circulation in.  Easy breathing right here right now.

I am filled with loving kindness.  I am well.  I am peaceful and at ease.  I am happy.  I know I’ve written this before and I will write it again.  Practicing the pause in the Presence is the infinite gift of human life.  Receiving gifts has not been my strong point.  I’m always worried about the tit for tat rule–what should I do for this, how did I earn it, what will you want from me in return.

The Presence has no source, is no source, has no end point or destination.  That is why the Path is so comforting for me.  My feet never fall off the ground.  Each trembling step forward still reaffirms the undeniable yet unbelievable truth of safety and love in the Presence.

I am, you are, we are IN the Presence.  Right here.  Right now.

It’s been hard to speak lately.  A sense of darkness and the inertia of depression bringing a numbness to my day–countered with a hysterical irritating mind that wants to force solutions–the warrior and the hermit in a mental food fight.

If, as Moore suggests, I let the depression teach me, I’m following along the myths of puritan values: if I am not of use, I am useless.  It hypnotically whispers that my value is based on a severe curve–the more struggling for more money and toys, the more I am of value in society.  How can that heal this weeping willow Eeyore attitude?  Well, it is a farce and certainly not the truth of me.

The Bene Gesserit say to let the fear carve a wormhole through my body and all that is left is me.  I see me anew, fresh and free.  Buddha’s tonglen practice suggests I see this ache deep inside my heart and cover it with compassion until it melts into new bones and let the salt water tears sear the illusionary wound to a story about the scar.

The blackbird’s trill says “puff up your wings when you announce your territory–this is your promontory perch.”  “Be free,” pipes up the daisies in the lush green tall grass, “Open where you are planted and spread your seeds wide around.  Face the light full on.”  Sparrows, swallows, crows, robins, chicadees and barking dogs maintain the chant of my meditative state.  Here is where Vivaldi found spring, Van Gogh gazed at apple blossoms and Einstein hinted at quantum–nature is the eternal Muse.

Today I surrender to the caress of Her whisper and bend to the breeze of Her breath.

I spent the day yesterday listening.  I heard mothers, children, grandmothers and the Mother speak on this side of the veil and the other side too.  I sat in awareness of the energies through the ages of love from womb to womb, hands to heart, lips to spirit and back again.  I watched tears, I spied clenched fists, furrowed brows and bowed heads to the sound of words from the other side.

This morning the bushes were waving at me, trees nodding Her Presence, all the leaves clapping their hands to the lullabye of Her Love.