Not the big machines that fly from outer space and disguise themselves as cars and trucks.  The tiny rock-like bulbs that sprout into slender slick green rising high above the rock and earth yielding brilliant color.  Transformers like the rigid bare tough bark of trees that blush red nodules and pour out blossoms that serve as wedding bouquets for cherubs.

Renewal and regeneration is constant.  Thus each new birth is a sign of eternity.  How can I be inert with the bursting and busting, greening and shining around me?  What is it about humans that sink into mud and shit, forgetting that rich fertilizer at our roots? 

Mountain range in the west, layers of rock and snow, hundreds of miles away reminded me of the infinite depths in stillness.  Tiny white violets snuggled and crowding in babbling spring delight chattered about the power in persistence.  Snow lining the northern shadows so comforted in its slow surrender to nourish the newness.

The Tao today is bigger than gods, and even She bows to the dance of the spheres that She fashioned from a bit of dirt, creative fire, tears of joy, thrown into eternity.

At least I know that when I make each step, I’m moving through time and love.  Sometimes all I think I can do is one step for the whole day.  And that’s ok too.  Boots on.  Coat on.  Sneeze.  Sit.  A sip of tea.  One phone call.  Type just one word.  The day steps without me too.

Thankful for the path, the Way that is bigger than gods.  Grateful for recognizing in your face that I am not alone here stepping.  Happy that sometimes I can dance, remembering dances and former dance partners.  Sending greetings out to those beyond the veil of time and place.

So now I feel like I’m in the midst of a square dance party, hearing steps and stomps and clapping to Her whirling music of the spheres.

Tender loving care is the message for today.  For myself.  Being figuratively and literally snotty is a sign to slow down.  Chicken soup, hot herbal tea, a jigsaw puzzle and sleep.  Setting aside complex thinking for peace of mind and body.

I claim kindness and harmony with myself today.  I lean on the shoulder of My Love, listen to Her lullaby song of comfort, let all simple actions flow.  I am safe.  I am healthy, wealthy and wise.  I am better and better every day.

Glad tidings is one thing, but when the tide brings in flotsam and jetsam, or when it comes in fast and full, confusion and fear plague us.  Plague me.  Still, it is true that the tide washes up treasures, and low tide–less resources–reveal food and sustenance that was previously unseen.

One foot step does not make a path.  Continuous walking, or many people walking, along the same way.  Keeping with my herd, connecting with family, friends, here and there.  Leaning against a tree when I need my feeble frantic figuring-out brain to rest in the peace of stillness.  Listening to others and what they do when the voices get louder.  Those are good tidings.

And remembering that this boat of faith–no matter how tipsy it feels, or tentative its power–cannot sink.  That the Way I follow, even if it seems obscured in briars and thistles, is true.  I stand motionless and listen to the eternal song of Her Love.

Today feels pretty human.  Not that I feel pretty being human, just being human.  One of those channeled entities once said that the whole universe honored us humans, holding us in high esteem for our choice to be human.  That is, to permeate our brilliant and ephemeral spirit into the most obtuse material soil of the earth. 

But as we turned the corner around Saturn, you know deep inside that the sight of this planet glowing blue-green, basking in the love of Sol, drew us in love to merge with Gaia.  It was a gravitational pull rather than a challenge.

Well, ok, that fiesty angel of me did wave her hand vigorously squealing: “Pick ME!  Pick ME!  I can do it!  I’m up for the challenge, pick ME!”  And that playful rule of forgetting when we touch down, dive through Mother’s womb to begin breathing–“what did we do this for?!?”

Just one of those “huh?!?” days, cold fingers, scratchy throat, bumpy retorts.  Thank you for reminding me that this is a dance, and that Spirit embraces all.

What a puzzlement time is!  It is not real, as the only moment is here and now.  But there is this days and days of preparation, a handful of hours of hysterical fun, then clean-up yields to reminiscing.  What fun it was when…did you see her face…and then she said… and we roared with laughter.

Sweet One that permeates my day, flow through my sugar-tired blood, my hung-over muscles, my feebled body brain and wash me with the memory of the angels in my life.  Let the timeless vision of their laughing faces warm my every moment here and now.

I’m not really fond of the phrase: “It’s all good!”  Sure, in spirit, we’re in a flow of good, love, what is what is.  But the human heart–and certainly the frantic protective human mind–often screams something quite different: “RUN!  WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE EVENTUALLY!  THIS IS A MAJOR MISTAKE!  YOU are a major mistake!  I HATE THIS!  WHAT THE FREAK IS GOING ON!?!?!”

Silly distractions such as that.

How to ask the heart to turn to the breath?  To let the breath take me in and out of the chaotic frantic overwhelming “gotta gotta do this” mantra of the mind.

Kiss the fussy baby on the forehead and rock her with a low humming lullaby.  Mmmmmmm.  OOOOooo0ohhhhhmmmmm, baby, ohhhhmmmm.  Or better yet: moooooooooohhhhhmmm.  Just here just now just be.  Rocking back and forth.  Rolling with the flow of the Way.

And then the party miraculously IS the here and now!

Fog, flat white fog, everywhere this morning.  It is clear at my feet, but then when I look up, there is no sun, no sky, nothing beyond a short sight.  But I know it is all there: the mountains, the sun, the lake, the blue sky, the future.

I am forced to pay attention to my feet and trust the horizon.  I am directed to each single step, maybe 6 feet in front of me, and trust the Way to the Presence that permeates even deeper than the mist.

The trees stand very still this morning, listening for Sol’s footsteps in the east.  Even she is a disk without shining beyond the veil of white.  I find that center and walk with the ghosts of my parents, crying my humanness, laughing my spirit.

With just a few words, I feel lost again.  I can’t remember things, I doubt myself, I am scared.  “Lions and tigers and bears” seem to lurk in the shadows of the day and I am frozen in some small nagging fear of “not enough.”

Today I lean on my memories.  The caressing ease of her hand on Her knee.  The towering tall bulk of the Elephant that shields me, carries me and removes all obstacles.  I will let Him remember for me.  The quicksilver Fairy that flutters and flies around me with messages whispered as sweet nothings in my ear.  The wise Sophia Spirit that reminds me the day is easy, actions flow, Path never disappears beneath my cherished feet.

Step Spirit, step human, step Spirit, step.

I wish I could just have mints in my pocket to suck on when I need to cleanse my breath and inner self with ease.  To let the tangy comfort taste flow from my mouth through my throat and tingle my body with the sensation of stimulating peace.  Ease.  Ease.  Easy is what does it.

Because today my heart is tearing up with sadness of loss.  My mind is jumping at the lists all around me, and my body is breathing shallow with the tasks ahead of me. 

NIT-picking is what I practice: what is the SMALLEST Next Indicated Thing to do.   Have you ever combed nits out of a child’s hair?  To get a comb with the closest teeth to pull through tangled hair with lice eggs the size of this dot . Here again, patience. 

Allowing the next indicated thing to come to me, sitting quietly and feeling the magnetism of the brook of life to gurgle a call for me to float, tread water, feel the rush of cold glacial melt wake my feet to a squeal.

Easy squealing at the icy hot sad full paradox of the day–grasping Her hand who skips and giggles beside me.  She has to stifle her laugh at my furrowed brow and whispers: “There is nothing wrong.  All is in flow.  The Way is here and now.  You are complete ease and comfort.  Let’s play!”

I love my job.  I love my job.  I love my job.  My job is love.  Wherever I am to be, vocation, avocation, career, job, daily work, my duty is to emulate compassion and ease.  Life is hard enough without me sucking you all dry with my victim-laced whining.  Now how the heck does this work when I am a vacuum of needing your attention? 

The purpose of life, to know the center root of nourishment and to play this human bouncing ball game of not/have, love/fear, yes/no, worthy/shit, open/isolating, angry/listening and on and on and on.

Resting in the arms of the lullaby waves, the soft sand, the warm sun of Her care, I allow the day to be the day.  Feelings come and feelings go.  Rain is just rain.  The easiest next action flows to me, through me, blessed and comfortable.