Allowing my fears just to be fears.  False evidence appearing real  Old and strong protective voices telling me to run, fight–no matter what the change is about.  Warrior habits that just don’t match the present moment.

Especially when the present moment is a quiet apartment looking out into the forest, soft whirring of the laptop and  comforting clacking keys.  Nothing wrong, nothing right–just the Way.

How not to be afraid of my fear.  How to befriend it like a tenuous new pet or a feral cat, wide eyes watching tensely from under the bushes.  Even a morsel of food sometimes won’t coax out or soothe the memories of intimate pain.

Pain really is distrust.  I’m told recently to increase my trust level with the Divine.  Well, I trust friends, but sometimes they don’t seem to keep in touch with me.

But I can’t say that about my Dear One.  She is my guardian angel.  My personal god.  There is no one else in the world but Her for me and me for Her.  Because She lives through me, as me, with me, around me, beneath me, above me, throughout every cell and breath and moment of me.

Good reminder.  Thanks.

The old joke says that’s the route to Carnegie Hall.  It is also the story of a life committed to spiritual principles.  We won’t GET there–wherever “there” is.  It is about learning to step each step more comfortably and surely.  Even when we–as we do–stumble.  Taking those prat falls with experience softens the hard cement at the end.

One of this morning’s readings talked about not being afraid of my fear.  My new fear recently is some kind of surprise and abhorrence with my face–it doesn’t look like the me I feel inside.  (This skyping thing brought a shock to see my face so up close and personal!).

It is the Divine face.  It is the face of everyone I meet that might be worn, disfigured, fat, pimpled, scowled, angry, messy and heartbreakingly beautiful.  It is the same face.

In the mirroring light of my love, YOU are revealed.

The phantoms of hope and fear can rob us of the gift of the present.  The present of the gift.   The here and brilliant now.

Instead of the prayer: “I’m getting better and better and better every day,” it is–“I am good, good, good.”  And–“Acceptance changes EVERYTHING” (SAID IN CAPITAL LETTERS).  EVERYTHING.

After all, one of the meanings of “acceptance” is to receive a gift.  Who knew?!

Today I open my hands and heart for the gift of now.  I can still plan for tomorrow, that may be part of today’s task after all.  I can sort and manage the past–that is my taxes, yes.  But in this gift of here and now I cherish the anticipation of the future, making plans that delight me all the way, recognizing that every plan holds a surprise.  And when I tally my taxes I am saying “thank you” to my government for the services that are offered, the social security I may indeed enjoy, the unemployment that may support me.

Hurray for here and now.

Like a stone in the river, we are shaped by the current of nature, the Way things are–the How of all nature.  The path of the Force.  We want the Force to be with us, and pray for the Presence to be within and near us.  But each season gently–or not so gently–will mold us like soft clay.  Whether we bend to it or not.

Siddhartha had a righteous endeavor–to desperately journey in search of a method to alleviate all suffering, old age and death.  But there is no “answer” to those natural cycles of life.  Trees grow, stand tall, then fall.  Mountains rise up with astounding earthquaking force, then melt into the ocean.

Us little pieces of soft protoplasm go along for a brief ride.  But what a ride it is!  I buckle my seatbelt, nod to the Friend next to me (who is grinning widely), raise my arms high in the air and say, “WHEEEEEEEEE!!”

Just watching and listening is a powerful way to live.  Feeling triggers and being curious.  Watching the dance of others and wondering if I like the music or not.

Had a party this weekend with wonderful long-time friends.  It was like watching Adirondack maples, elms and aspens turn autumn colors in hours.  Chattering birds, playful foxes, quacking ducks, happy barking dogs.  Even a baby, shy on dad’s shoulder.  Food fabulous.

Clean house.  Warm memories.  Noticed.

What a mystifying phenomena the present moment is.  The microsecond it is acknowledged it is past and gone.  A new instant present has pushed it out of the way–and again and again and again.  Maybe the mystery and puzzlement is that we try to capture that moment.  Photographs pretend to do it,  but they are different with each viewing too.

This morning seems to be like fruit frozen in ice–still.  Chilly.  Dog bark in the distance.  Slate white sky.  Open time.  No needs yet.  Calm before busy.

Practicing a sense of wonder feels empty.  I am a bowl clean and open, not anxious to be filled.  Not worried about the fruit that was here yesterday.  Not concerned about the residue that will need washing tomorrow.  An open, empty, clear, beautiful bowl.

Sounds despairing, doesn’t it?  What an interesting faith Buddhism is, to say: “I feel so much better now that I’ve given up hope.” And “Give up hope of a better past.”  Plus there are no promises of it getting better, heaven, resurrection,  or being saved.

There is just gentleness and graciousness at this, in this, very moment. the precious here and now.  Despite a sore body, a fuzzy mind, a cranky day at work, a busy weekend.  Future tripping and past regrets have nothing to do with this precious here and now.

Deep breath.

It seems as if it is one thing or another.  I’ve felt in the ebb of a tidal wave, little waves in between.  And praying to sit when the triggers get inadvertently pushed.  What if those triggers were doors that opened to fresh air for the heart?

12 steps make that happen for me.  Trigger–powerless against some natural force around me.  Sit in the deep knowing of the Divine, let the wave of the Way move me in comfort and safety.  And what is that trigger?  Where did it come from, who helped make it, what story of fear is all dressed up underneath?  Ahhh, let me tell you about it, get it out of my body/heart/mind–I see it now.  What would the opposite of it look like?  When did it serve me?  How is that trigger out of balance in this situation?  Let me ask for help with this.  Let me love myself and others.  Let me be different and tell about this difference.  I’ll keep a watch out for it, I will sit in deep gratitude and appreciation of the Divine and this process.

Let me tell you how I did it.

step by step by step.

We are meant to share experiences.  Even the ascetics and gurus who went off to the woods or the cave–we only know about them because their lives were shared, either by their own writing & stories, or because their followers told their story.

We are connected in the heart with All That Is, in the body with each breath, in the mind when we give our first surprised cry at birth.  Nature is completely interwoven, and so are we.

Thus my path is to write this each morning that I can.  As I can.  Whatever emerges.  I am a tree sometimes falling in the woods.  The other trees, despite their stalwart stand–they hear every word.

Where is the balance between all those?  I suppose that is part of this whole adventure of being human.  Having a desire by itself is not bad, but grasping and clutching to one certainly doesn’t work.  Setting intentions is the core of manifesting a life, and the next moment, but outpicturing the results leads to disappointed expectations and usually resentments.  Even if they are towards myself for believing in some myth.

But dreams without a plan are just wishes.

Peace is certainly every step, and action is the hallmark of life.  Movement, growth, survival all means to act.  Meditation is a break and an anchor, but even the ascetic must eventually eat or they die.  Death is ok, but it is not life.

Back and forth, here and there, up and down, now and then.  Swinging through the polarities of human life.