The cold I had three weeks ago has left sludge behind my nose, throat and mouth.  Sluggish snot that won’t come out.  I wake up with caked residue in my nostril and my voice is husky and nasally.  I’m carrying around some resentment, insecurity and anger that has clogged my life.

So today I left all that snottiness in the forest.  It will be added to the frosty mud, warmed in the midday and nourishing the soil that recycles all dead things for rich fertilizer.  As Theresa of Avila reminds me, I leave the gremlins and lizards, rats and spiders of disbelief, doubt, material cravings and pissy self-righteousness behind as I face into the path of the inner castle.

Today I channel the three faced goddesses of my own making: Juno for partnerships, Diana for strength and silence, and Theresa for the mystical oneness with the Divine.  I allow their fullness, goodness, and peace rule my thoughts, feelings and actions.

I am plenty.  I am full.  I am excellent as I am that I am as I am.  Chanting that and having faith of perfect decisions at the right time.  Actually, decisions–meaning to cut short–are arbitrary and capricious.  It doesn’t matter what I decide, or what seems to be decided for me, as it does always work out for the best. 

Seeing anything as the best is a complete process of perception.  From one angle, 20 years ago I stepped into a huge mess with a horribly bad decision.  From another angle, it was the best thing that ever happened to me and turned my life around.  Facing death and despair and deciding to turn can do that. 

So when indecision haunts me, I have to lean into the fog.  I salute Neptune, that spacy turbulent misty spiritual guy who yields a trident spear.  I cry when I feel like it; I repeat “not sure, don’t know, hmm, let me think about it.”  And when in doubt, do nothing.

Leaning on the lovely shoulder of My Misty Lady, She leans into me, whispering secrets and sweet everythings about the plenty of me, walking step by step into the cloud for Her.

Only with an empty space can one be filled anew.  So I clean.  Let go.  Sit and be numb and empty.

But this is hard for me, a doing person, active, progress, projects.  Feeling overwhelmed with all what I should do so much that inertia stuns me.  Spiritually, physically and emotionally tired.  Listless.  That “whatever” feeling.

And feelings are now supposed to be the guides to manifestation.  What I don’t like creates uncomfortable feelings that can point me to that which I would like–that would feel better, the opposite. 

What I’d prefer than this tired empty feeling is purposeful, motivated, inspired and energized.  In order to feed that intention, I set it in the rich soil of the soul and let the mud and rain and tears and sleep nurture it to grow.

Today is Gaia’s day–brilliant sun, warm still air, birds chattering and the earth greening.  I allow the dear One to work through me, play through me and rest through me.  Going with the flow.  Empty and full at the same time.

A song I’ve heard begins: “There is only One of us.  In your eyes it is me I see.”  I am eternally grateful for the so-called “others” in my life.  Sometimes they mirror to me what I love.  Sometimes the reflection shows me a sliver of my personality that probably challenges the world.  In either case, I am faced with an unending opportunity to learn more about myself. 

Like the Sphinx taught: Know thyself.  Truly a secret of the universe.

And then you all give me essential hope and grace.  In your eyes I can recognize the dear and earnest path I chose in being human.   I remember the hysterical adventure I begged to take–a spirit moving to the most obtuse dimension merely to remember that I am spirit.

In your eyes I see the One that I seek, and in the mirroring eyes of Your love I am found.

There is very effective prayer that calls to “set aside” all the conundrums, problems, challenges…”for a new experience and an open mind”  of those same conundrums and problems.  Being of limited attention, I’ve shortened it to: “Set aside for an open mind.”

However, I am by nature an argumentative, defensive, self-righteous know-it-all.  And I want to hassle and wrestle with anyone who tries to tell me something different than what I think is right.  For instance, the animal control officer who dares to give me a citation for walking my 15 year old dog without a leash who hardly wavers 10 feet from me.  Oh and he’ll probably catch me for not having a license–for 11 years.  ARGH.  I’ve got all sorts of defenses and logical summaries in my head for the court on how stupid this law is–especially for me.

Plus I am buffeted by inappropriate activities at work all the time.  Clearly my ideas are not considered valuable, since I’ve been relieved of duties and am just waiting for that inevitable (and not soon enough) last day.  So none of what is going on is my business.

Therefore today my chant is changed a bit:  I set aside for peace of mind.  These are truly conundrums and never ending arguments of righteousness.  The defense of my irresponsibility will never end.  The spiritual maxim to obey natural laws is for peace of mind.

I call on Joseph and his angel to help me wrestle with the high thought of simply allowing the flow of life rather than damming it up with self-absorbed illusions of fear and inadequacy.

I set aside for peace of mind.

Sometimes life is feeling good, sometimes feeling not so good, and then there are these days that go up and down, back and forth one minute to the next.  Like sitting in the middle of a teeter totter, I see the blessing and I see the human feeling.  Excitement about a new adventure, fear about loss.

Each of the edges need each other.  As the Tao says: what is a bad man but a good man’s work.  I bless the world with my layoff.  The employment agent is busy.  The employment security office adds people to work.  Benefits departments are moving more papers back and forth.

It is during the down turn of the seesaw that I lean more and more into Your arms.  I remember to rest in the eternity of Your dear smile and soft touch.  I close my eyes and Your fingers touch the center of my forehead, reminding me instantly of Heaven.

Do sailors still shoot the stars?  Use one of those contraptions to look at the night sky for bearings?  Or has the mechanical advancements robbed them of that divine connection?

For all sailors imprisoned on land I stand face to the heavens, relying on galactic navigation for your path through the stars on this blue-green planet.  You are never alone.  No concrete walls, steel bars, silent friendship, or remote sister can keep you from being hugged close by light of the Way.

I walk a dark narrow gravel road through the fields before dawn.  Before the sunrise that never makes a sign through the layers of gray clouds.  Still the angels dance on the eastern horizon. 

And day by day I claim my life, your life, the sailor’s life, becomes more clear, we let the Divine Way be more near, and love more dearly.

I that which I seek.  I am the path I walk.  I am That I am.  She whom I lean into leans into me.

As I seek, so I find.  As I ask, so it is answered.  As I knock, the endless doors of life are opened to me.

And still the dog barks doubt and fear.  As dogs do.

I move today easily, as through a wide open field at the top of a promontory hill overlooking water and mountains.  The air is crisp and cool.  The breeze is gentle.  The sky is comforting gray and the reluctant dawn still blushes.

The jigsaw puzzles go together slowly.  Gathering up all the pieces with red, analyzing the shape, trying out this one then that one.  Grumbling on how they aren’t made the way they used to be-stiffer and more tightly linked.

Little by little the birds come into shape.  Next is the branch they cling to.  Last is the indistinguishable motley green of the tree and the background.  It seems sometimes it will never be done and the tablecloth lies on top of it.  It feels better not seeing the unfinished business that taunts me with a half-done puzzle.

But there is my life.  Here is the neutral zone.  Leaving where I was.  Not sure of where I’ll land.  Cleaning out old markers of the past–shirts I was given, dresses that are still beautiful but unworn, and jewelry that once had meaning now forgotten.  Feel a bit empty on purpose.  Empty of purpose.  Purposefully empty.

More to fill.  I set aside all worries and doubt for the wide open mind of brilliant unknown.

From metaphysical depths, creative bliss to inane inertia–crazy life.  But didn’t die yet, so I’m just swimming swimming, keep on swimming.

Clearing out that which is old and done.  Scrubbing corners that magnetize dirt and grime.  Inventory of what does and doesn’t work for me.  Letting go of old habits like moving away from a dear old friend and knowing that you won’t really keep in touch.  Time happens, life moves, change is constant.

And tears are one of the few ways I can honor these cycles.  Winter comes and I cry for summer.  Summer is here and I forget the dark nights of winter.  But in the cold season I love the colored lights throughout the city declaring hope and joy, whether in a mansion or a stable shed.

I weep for my dad and mom gone from this life, I cry for loss, I sob for the myths of what I was to be and the stories of fear whining around my future. 

Yet swimming in my tears, simple beauty of the red berried bush waving in the wind reminds me of Your Grace.  Dreams of Your deepest blessing are still pressed against my breast.  My hands hold You to my heart as I dive.