There is nothing the moon does to cause a reflection.  Nor does the water work hard to mirror the bright orb of night.  They are naturally still and beauty is clear. 

When I sit in solitude, the dark turbulent waters of the frantic mind settle.  When thoughts settle, the reflection of spirit is clear.

The stillness is absorbed like a hungry cat with morning food.  I am filled nose to toes with the endless quiet of the breath.

And the mind then burst in–“THEN what?!?!”

There is differences in opinion about “handing it over” whether to a higher power or not vs. just sitting through it.  Religion vs. Buddhism philosophy for instance. Or Taoism’s do nothing and all will be done.  I alternate.

With an obsessive mind, “sitting in it”–being comfortable with uncertainty–can mean you check the door lock 5 times, drink to forget, leave town to avoid conversations, even go to marathon 12 step meetings in order to try to drown the constant untrained mind plaguing with catastrophe. It follows us around even in our bad chasing running dreams.

So today I bow to the figure of the Compassionate Goddess.  Whether Kwan Yin, Mary, Isis or the fierce passion of Adriane, I ask that you show the Way that I support my friends–the one that wants me to assume power of authority in her illness (and not her family), and the gnome
of an ill twisted addict friend who pleads help to get his fretless bass from the pawn shop.  Just writing those stories seem clear about my actions, but love and money cloud the issue.

So Dear One, guide my words, embrace my heart, calm my jumpy codependency, ease my mind with the clarity of your Path and grace.

If we were convinced in our every bones that we were at one with the universe, nature and the air we swim, would there be no fear?

I read conspiracy theories and space ships hovering in space above us, earthquakes being underground wars and we still need to breathe.  We are such tiny creatures on this beautiful old planet–it seems silly sometimes that we think so much of ourselves, we have been here such a short time.

But in that short time our lives feel so important.  For some reason I get desperately worried about making some essential mark on the planet, to help people.  Or perhaps just wanting to get attention for something I do.

The Tao helps me recognize my essential part in the middle of this organic holistic reality that I form with each conception and breath.  The Divine One gives me a love that defies all time, space and existence.  Now I’m back on the magic carpet of kindness, love and delight.

The warrior fears little and, even if afraid, moves forward into the darkness with a faith that supersedes the shadows.  Our biggest challenge is ourselves, the war within between fierce competition, power, righteousness and compassion. 

Why be compassionate when I’m right and not acknowledged?!  The phrase “do you want to be happy or do you want to be right” sounds like a trick?  How can I be happy if I’m not right?!  This is the scrappy snarling dog I face.  My battle is bringing up compassionate understanding–or rather compassion without understanding–to that voice within me that often coalesces into a person outside of me.

A good warrior spars often with her team, using new tools and tactics to sidestep useless arguments, mud-slinging tit-for-tat skirmishes, and tiresome posturing. Here I put on my soft armor of Your love, so that You can be the shield of compassion that blunts any spears.  My determined claim of Your Presence is my banner.

Today I just want to stay present on the Path.  To listen carefully for the next word and action.  I rush into things sometimes, making assumptions, forging ahead bumping into what I didn’t open my eyes to see.  If I’m moving slowly and carefully, perhaps I wouldn’t have gotten all these bruises in life.

But that’s who I am, a bit of a ram emotionally.  In my more mature age–ha!–I have become more patient and careful.  Then again, perhaps it is being more friendly with fear, listening to her little scared voice that sometimes completely holds me back with doubts.

It is a convergence of harmony, a mixture of oil (grace) and vinegar (human spirit) perhaps that I contemplate.  Being compassionate to myself, holding hands with fear and moving forward with determination rather than recklessness.

That’s a good anthem for today: kindness and courage.

Sometimes I just can’t decide…yet.  There are days that precede a turn in the road and it is still foggy ahead.  Which way will I walk?  New experience or a newer experience of saying no thank you?  You can see the fork in the road come closer with each step–no matter how tiny, no matter how I shuffle.

How to honor this time of indecision–how to allow the unknown next right action to show itself.  It will be clear, it will be done, I will survive (or not).

At the same time, listening to an old friend on the phone awaiting news of terminal disease taking over his slight life-beaten body.  Nothing to do but to hear the train roaring towards us in the distance.  We will all leave this world with a body that is done.

Today I open open open once again, practicing over and over the mystical exercise of brilliantly embracing every minuscule moment of grace on this thrilling planet encased in this perplexing mix of clay and cosmic spiritual dust.

Summer solstice just moments ago here in the Pacific Northwest.  Though we are calling it Junuary because it is doing that gray skies rainy thing that just happens up here.  Nourishing and comforting to some of us.  Those of us who are really tender green plants in human disguise.

Love takes so many forms. Wedding vows, a touch, smiles, easy laughter in small talk.  But sometimes I just don’t see it, blinded by clouds that are so close to my heart that the mist covers my face.  No one even seems to notice my tears we are all so wet.

The sun now begins its slow journey back across the sky to the south.  Warming as she goes, boosting the green everywhere.

I throw myself on the Path of Heaven, today asking the Sun to stand still inside me, even when I seem to melt down in unnamed feelings, angry that my thrashing does not elicit sympathy.  Apparently anger is not a good sign of loneliness.

Today the Divine is in the details.  I stand still throughout the day allowing Her Ideas to come gently to me.  Perhaps the laughter is because I am never alone.  And the anger is because I am so blinded by childish tears.  Meera Momma Mary

From an amazing selection (source noted below), we are promised that “

We
will begin to feel and will come to know the vastness of our emotions, but we
will not be slaves to them,” and with “the ability to forgive
ourselves, our families, and the world, our choices will expand.”  ahhh, those words are like a soothing lullabye to my heart.

Feeling my feelings without being hypnotized into thinking they are facts–what a gift that is.  However, I still am stuck asking myself that question–is this a feeling or a fact?  Why am I frozen in fear?  What is it I fear?  Or why am I angry all of a sudden?  For me, It takes study of my feelings, honoring them, allowing them space and writing and walks and talks to see what is at the core.

And with love and patience, I can sail through my feelings, coming to right action.  One of my favorite feelings is loving the Divine.  Driving over the lake, gazing at the mountain, chanting “Deva Deva Deva” to sing praises to the natural Goddesses who love my home and fill me with the gift of grace.

Dawn is my muse.  I yearn to be out there with her.  Even if it is overcast and gray.  I want to sit in the dark and hear the birds wake up, thrilled and excited for another day.  To watch the night soften over the hills and the coral cloud angels fling their dance of veils across the eastern range.  I sit and see the Mountain blush at Her waking.

Today I will bask in a constant dawn.  New life, shifting light, dancing angels and sweet songs serenading me.

If time isn’t real, why do I wrestle with it so much?  I get up, I do this and that and poof–it’s past time to leave!?  Sometimes traffic is easy, sometimes stuck.

I open today to the truth of no time and rest my heart, hands and mind in the Presence of eternal Oneness.  In Her arms there is no coming or going, late or early, butterflies or rushing.  As I breathe into the center of Her soft eyes, and lean back onto Her shoulder, I am able to watch the glory of this life.  I am able to play well with others and bounce to the music sitting in the line of cars all circulating for good of the I Am.

Breathing breathing breathing Her sweet fragrance.  Breathing.