So they say that “reality” is a holographic manifestation of my beliefs.  Damn I’m good.  Since I’ve been a kid somehow I realized this, but am still a bit frustrated at the “how the heck it works.”  And what’s the secret to really manifesting a life of dreams.

A life where I wake up buzzed on the thought of putting my life’s purpose into action.  Where my home is luxurious and clean.  I eat in freedom from ramifications of a warm sticky cinnamon bun crashing my mind and body into a stupor for hours.  Ok, well, all those words supposedly are the seeds of which my life is built.  But there are these days where I feel like I’m walking through a carnival without a map.

For some reason I chose a life that mesmerizes me with doubt, worry, insecurity and even despair.  Perhaps this is a graduate school of experience and I’m in an intensive program.  Today maybe I’ll just dive into the books, watch for signs around me that love is the stuff of “reality.” 

No matter what illusion in front of me may tempt me to feel, I am rooted in the stuff of compassion and kindness; I breathe the fragrant scent of Her perfume; and every move I make is a dance dedicated to the One I love.

Amazing to me how I was intuitively and unconsciously trained to define my life based on others.  And now that I believe that my life becomes real from the intentions and beliefs inside of me, this is a true self-fulfilling manifestation.  If I live my life in reaction to those around me, who are drawn to me by my beliefs about myself, I am stuck forever in a house of mirrors. 

My mind is filled with conversations to other people about how they “should” behave.  How, if they took this or that action, their lives would be so much better, and why wouldn’t they want that?!  “I’m just here telling you this to help you!”

Retraining myself to be the initiator of my life, to see myself as distinct and primary co-creator with the loving Hand of the universe, is like stumbling down a path I’m desperatly searching for.  I sometimes feel blind, deaf and dumb.  Truly dumb.

But with every step I take, if I can open my blind bloated eyes of self, there are steadfast images of clear, calm, confident hope.  I can lean on the trees.  The tall straight pines with deep grooved skin.  The slender pointing poplars bending and waving.  The full wide embracing chestnut and maples, shading me in cool comfort. 

Like the tracings of the s blood through my heart, today my life and God is a tree.  I am rooted in Gaia’s powerful soul.  I wiggle my toes deeper in the jeweled richness of the dirt that formed me.  My trunk is pure goodness, strong and still.  I reach and stretch playing hide and seek fun with the sun that warms me.  I lap up the rain, turning all this into green loving leaves that wave to the wind of those around me. 

And in every scary moment, I lean into myself.  I lean into the Tree of Thee that comforts me eternally.

Today I claim my faith as stiff rubber boots walking me through rain, slush, and mud.  An all terrain faith.

We walk, the dog and I, taking easy slow time to sniff out all the smells, cover up all prior scents with our own.  Oblivious to and reveling in the dark, rain and blustery wind.

The Mother is for me the soft thick socks; the Father is the tough strong rigid boots.  The wind says: “I am here with every weather change you feel.”

These boots of faith are just what I need on a black path filled with puddles and mud.

I am free to play.  Like a child protected and watched over, I giggle with my delightful splashing.

The trees say: “Branching out for more possibilities to meeete the sun, drink the rain, play with the wind.  Roots sneak into the earth sipping up the fiber of rocks to be strong.”

The sound garden wails in the wind as I play today.

Today I allow the shepherd to lead me to fresh easy flowing waters, to bring me to green pastures and refresh my soul.  Cherishing the images of a vacation filled with laughter, sloshy streets, hot baths and spectacular view, I claim to be restored to a new plateau of comfort.

No matter the details of forgotten papers, the entanglements of loose ends, calls not made, people not spoken to, appointments to maneuver, I stand in sight of a fresh view.  Confident of my traveling skills–despite whining windshield wipers in driving rain–I am always home.

I breathe deeply and fully into the Creator’s creation of me.  I settle in my skin, excited about today’s adventure, calm in the arms of Her love.

A high flying grey squirrel, wings spread off the edge – I feel great.
Brilliant gilded sky-painted cathedral ceiling – rich in the now

Being in love-a photo of a canopied master bed overlooking African plainscape
Giraffes sticking their necks out so high
Towering cati orange in the setting sun and golden sand dunes – GOODNESS

A big horned orange owl twisting its head upside down – In Balance–placed on it’s side

Power Foods – placed on a luscious salad
A unique statue of Quan Yin and a pine tree shilouette – Be inspired

A stone carving of a dancing Ganesha looking up at a playful Snoopy
A lotus blossom amidst lily pads – Peace. armony. Laughter. Love.

Workplace bliss.

A snapshot of my feet crossed in front of me in ease – Care of the soul
Waking up to your dreams

A blue sky above rolling hills, a figure on a path – Your path to a career with heart

Two Zebras head to head pasted in a field of flowers– KISS KISS

In the midst of all our intentions, themes, the what, how and prayer of our days may we be awaken in love.

The word renew is redundant–to be new again.  Well, it is a repeat and at the same time, how can you be new again?  But we humans have to “do” this renewal with each breath.  Still here, breathe in, breathe out.  Again.  And again.

Events seem to make fresh, looking like the first time–5 years with a comfortable companion, looking for another job at this age, being so freaking grateful that it is not snowing.  Yet under the sun, is anything new?  And if it is not new, if it is a recycling of what was yesterday, in history, for someone else, so what about that?  Can we live on a path of changing-same-changing cycles?

Trees do it.  Birds do it, grass does it.  New and the same.  As a human, my vision is to create something unique.  I will create a branch on me the tree, sprout a blade of green that cracks concrete and wave my hands in the clouds with a new flair.

Leaning on Her inside me completely–thoroughly throwing myself on the path of Heaven–only then can I be in balance anew each moment.

The chant of the new year is: love this.  I love that I am negotiating with a bug in my body to coexist without snot.  I love that it is the last day of the illusionary year.  I love that I am going to work–late.  I love that I did my tai chi this morning on the hill overlooking the lake and the foothills.  I love the deep grey clouds.

Speaking to, from, and with The Lady–I bless and love the earth and Her singing love songs through me today.

Infinite edges
Endless middles
Constant beginnings

Where is my story now?

Despite missing pieces, the puzzle can be linked to see the full scene.  Allowing for gaps in the horizon, piece by piece, step by step she moves forward.  Through the fog in the dark head down through despair and doubt.

The season shifts.

Free up your love.

I breathe my day in and out with love and goodness, ease and gladness, release and fulfillment.

Surrender and power.

It is a distracting season.  The winter solstice, celebration of light in the midst of deepest dark, with all the religious holidays piled on top, reminds me of distraction.  Buying presents for others is distracting.  Wishing I could have this and that, knowing that my wishes are not automatic, but require the practice of intention, are distraction.  Thinking I’ll never get the “practice” of non-work, non-struggle perfected–in itself–is distraction.  And, of course, allowing distraction puts my mind in a twist.

Today I claim the path to simply allow.  Allow allow allow what is to merely be.  Perhaps it can be a key to letting the flow flourish.  A river dammed up does create power, but a river that is allowed to run free most certainly laughs all the way to the ocean.

Sweet heavenly path, I open to your rushing rich release.

Birth and rebirth.  Infant God, humbly born with the animals to warm You.  May this ever-Present creative energy of fur, straw, parents, magic, angels and stars be in my heart–giving and receiving, overflowing with good and plenty.

Here and now.