Gravity

Gravity 

Gravity ... that strong pull towards the realm of sleep and the unknowing, of deep core, of centrifugal, inevitable forces that hold together, keep from disintegrating and spiraling out

Integrity ... that non-negotiable pull towards the center of one's being

Honesty ... that mashing of gravity and integrity, deepening what is lived into the world and taken into one self

Openness is the key, shining through layers of experience and wisdom

Empathy and understanding, humility with exuberance, innocence tempered with understanding, power understood as love and self-directedness, with self-regard.

Being able to claim... my place, my self, my space, my past, present and future, my voice,

Knowing that I will never be “finished”, at stand still, arrived, rather continuing to experience, learn and that growing means all ranges of reactions and experiences of emotions.

What if I already am

What if I only have to find my way back into the purity of what I am

The becoming is just a beautiful enhancement, adornment of the original golden glow

That would be surrendering to gravity in all its facets and trusting it.

Traveling light

Traveling light

Touching down ever so lightly,

holding where I came from with where I am and where I am about to go

Knowing where I have come from and seeing the possibility of what I am becoming emerge right now

Mindfulness in listening and seeing is called for

Lightness, sweetness and solidity in holding the moment and space

Actions and stillness in balance

Imbuing the moment with just the right gravitas, the right lightness of touch

knowing the world is one and continuously flowing, rotating

the tides sweeping back and forth

the winds and energy, gravity circling this earth

Knowing anything, even the slightest thought, heart tremor and soul craft will set in motion....all things to come... 

Shaped by all who have been invited and headed the call

Responsibility, gratitude, awe and faith...all sweeping in, swooping down, meeting at this moment right here, right now

Too much or just right?  How about....right now...stepping forward...stepping into...

Being aware of travels past and future and keeping the moon in my sight 

Wisdom about singing bowl by Kabir

Kabir calls it "the clay jug", I will rename it "Singing bowl"

Inside this singing bowl there are canyons and pine mountains, and the maker of canyons and pine mountains!
All seven oceans are inside, and hundreds of millions of stars.
The acid that tests gold is there , and the one who judges jewels.
And the music from the strings no one touches, and the source of all water.
If you want the truth, I will tell you the truth:
Friend, listen, the God whom I love is inside.

Broken open by a larger being

Being shaken and rattled all night. Bashed, flung onto rocks, battered without pain, broken to pieces by a darker, larger force – and the surrendering is easy.  No fear.

Being taken under the arms and shaken out of my skin, so much attachment, so many strong links, pulling and thrusting.  Gentle and determined hands sliding along my inner body and peeling it away from my outer skin.  How long it takes, how firmly all is one, how fiercely, ferociously, unwaveringly I am dying to the old – the process of reemergence as the me that had always been waiting to be.

Like my dragon swans unwinding the snake that winds too tightly around my chest, my heart, my throat, my lungs.  The snake the prevents my being fully in the light, out in the world as me with voice, heart, dance, soul and song. With different movements. Stepping forward with all of me, not just offering part of me, not just sending my loyal soldiers, not just baring my wounded child.

Holding my loyal soldiers, those who have protected me so well, given me a magical, wonderful life, in my arms, looking into each others eye so sweetly, knowing each other so well, honoring the life we have been able to give each other.

Giving each other sacred vows to help each other bring love and passion fully into this world and receive it and have it be received.

Being broken open – and finding the promise it will kill me to break is again never to close again – never to go back to sleep.

Surrendering to the tides of time

Arms, legs, heart, soul, lungs, eyes wide open, I am lying on a red rock in the middle of a tidal flow of time and timelessness

In the middle of an ancient ocean, the stars are floating on the waves of air high above

A passionately, endlessly and gently exploding and on the verge of exploding energy is coursing through me.

creative, tense, just on the edge and yet always flowing – like the never ending, never ceasing, exciting and soothing, glowing and awakening, sensuous touch of a lover. Like the caressing and holding, a beholding of that gaze, that smile that a lover gives you when thought unobserved or fully present if courageous.

Is this the beloved?  Is this the flow of all flows?

Right through me and I am within it and it is in me.

Before, now and after.

Opposites united – awe and knowing, arousal and softening, sensing and beyond senses, within and part of.

Beauty

Beauty is light being reflected in many different ways

To create colors and textures that touch everything.

Beauty is being filled with light radiating out through every pore.

What can beauty teach us but that we are all being touched by everything, suffused, diffused, maybe even confused by the connections, the dabbling, dancing, bouncing off of each others, the prisms and possibilities, the radiance and brilliance.

Darkness then is not an absence of light but an absence of reflection, an absence of something that the light can shine on and be thrown back from at different angles, darkness it light being absorbed. 

Light is always there, everywhere, whether we can see it or not – a trick of the eye.  And our souls can discern it, that quality of velvet darkness where the light is touching us, where we are absorbing the pure light without reflecting it away from us.  And so it is with beauty.

What alchemy then to be able to radiate it out as energy, as our core being, touching others and either creating rainbows or sweet, deep darkness and a soft, humming glow.

Alchemy

Alchemy: The building of a container of love and soul that can hold the mixing of love and death, transforming both

The love that is born out of death is truly soul surpassing, spirit enveloping.

In death, love becomes so pure, so ego-less that all are, all is transformed

Seeing changes, listening changes, glances become steadfast and soft, eyes are opening to let in and pour forth,

To allow the touching of ones innermost core without fear or guarding at the threshold.

In giving of and to each other to celebrate the passing of one soul, the changes of energy, a powerful container of love is created that can absorb the soul transformation. For that is what passing is, a passing on, an absorbing into other…..love.

Without love, taking in of the soul won’t happen, the container for alchemy will not be ready, pure, perfectly shaped by hearts and souls.  Without death, the alchemy won’t take place, for death feeds the flaming up of love, with the rays of soul, with a new richness for life.

Death then can transform relationships, those of the past, of the present, of the future, those of passing, those of staying.

What do I know

What do I know about love?

I know deep within me when it happens that door opening with a force, it takes my voice and breath away and .... nothing is as it was before
How much it takes to shove that door closed again, to dull the light, to deaden the breath
and it will never be closed fully

So many ways of loving, so many loves
Being called to love and loving
Being a lover to loves, submerging and dissolving
Shaping, creating and seeing

Faith that love arises no matter where
Adjusting to seeing and taking in love from anywhere and everywhere
Letting myself be filled

Love is seeing other and self
and still loving

Love is to give up what one most wants for the sake of that want taking flight,
for the sake of letting a creation that wants to happen, happen,
of letting a journey that wants to happen, take shape
with or without one self
how beautiful if it could be together

Always beholding both
Love and loss
Love and grief
Love and anger
Love and sadness
Love and life and death

Love is dreaming of my life as I am becoming

My dance - bringing anew

When I find my own dance I shine, I am brilliant as me, I dance the way no other can
I am not trying on someone else's dance, making it fit but creating me
I am the dance, I am me
And that dance feels so real and right and sweet
That dance is drawing me in and out and to me
When I find my own expression, I will say what nobody else has said before and how nobody has said it before
When I find my own seeing and holding and dancing into and within my body, I will see and embody and dance into the world what has never been there before

That then is everybody's and my gift, to being anew

For at any instant that newness has a chance of meeting openness,
A moment in time where others can hear differently, as I bring differently
A moment in time when seeing new and dancing new happens
A present that has never been there before
and the future is forever changed.

Bursting forth

What a revelation
I can sing, sing with such joy, it is bringing tears to my eyes
My lungs cannot contain enough breath to let out all I have inside, all the song and exuberance, all the melody and energy
My fullness is bursting forth, erupting, emerging, waving, vibrating into space, rippling out and merging with other ripples
For that is what song is, voice in motion, soul in vibration, joining others, joining the world, breath air mixing with breath and air, life mixing with life
Looks of recognition
A different language, so ancient, we recognize and know it
My whole body is transformed as I sing
Every cell of my body is coming into synchronicity within myself and outside of myself
The range of high and low notes, loud and soft ones feeling like water
I can taste the notes, melting, shaping in my body

Love taking flight

When love unfolds, its wings are beyond measure
The night air itself is transformed
Soft, yielding and speckled with sparks of energy and passion
Water, earth, fire and air becoming one
The diamond of energy has taken shape
A new form is found

Into

What simple insight and how important:

I can't see or hear or prepare myself into dance, I can only dance myself into dance

I can't push myself into softness and flow, I can only soften myself into softness, flow into flow

I can't think or strategize or wish or ask or muscle or please or negotiate myself into love, I can only love myself into love

I can't  personalize, balancing the give and take myself into caring, I can only care myself into caring, constantly deeply seeing the I/You and the we

I can't pushing- out words and thoughts, taking-over with excitement, sharing waterfall-like, gushing revelations myself into closeness, I can only move myself close into closeness and give space to other to come close

I can't predict, analyze, hope, predispose myself into attunement, I have to attune myself into attunement

I can't straighten, walk, dress, speak, hear, listen myself into that flamenco wild gypsy, that feminine woman being, I can only flamenco, belly-dance, salsa, ballet-dance, sing myself into it, know that flamenco gypsy is in me and know it into being

I can't bits and pieces, fits and starts myself into the mystery, my journey, I can only throw myself into, surround myself with, mystify myself into the journey, into the mystery

I can't protect, measure, deliberate myself into fullness, I can only fill myself or let myself be filled into fullness

I can't figure out, anticipate, cleverly argue, postpone, worry myself into what is possible, I can only live the possible, live it as if it were already a reality, as if it were already here, not just that, that is is here. Without another thought - just act, be, feel that way.

Traveling alone

What joy there is in traveling alone

Attuning to my self and around

Listening in and out

Moving where I am being called to

Open in such a self-confident way

Being seen as self instead of part of a whole or bounded construct or overlaid with assumptions about how to approach, how open I would be

And that chuckle in me that, finally, what is also coming out is my little defiant, determine child that says “let me do it alone, my way” “I can do it on my own”

Adjusting my pace to my own inner drives,

An acute sense about safety, risk-taking and courage

When to linger, when to create an impenetrable membrane, when to look up and when to keep my head down, my gaze guarded

When to fill up fully, drink in, when to just take a quick sip and move on

Brief connections with women, children, and some men about shared experiences, we exchange knowing glances and smiles

With women, there is always recognition of strength, shared joy and compassion, of sisterhood and being out, being in fully, of showing up

The noise is different; it is a harmony or orchestra to attune to.  Without another to really bring home, fixate, presence, drive down possible complains or impatience or judgment, any such notions pass over me so swiftly, so lightly, nothing remains.

My energy is focused on here and on the next here, on moments of connection that arise so surprisingly, so sweetly, that keeping or staying in place with anything that darkens me or makes me rigid is not possible.

Traveling along is moving with and in, it is swaying with, connecting with such small moments and with the largest whole beyond me, us, this moment.

A midnight swim

Gliding through the water

The moon crescent above

Frangipani flowers raining onto the water

Steam rising like fairy-tale mist from the surface

As I part the water’s surface, the waves circle in ever expanding soft undulating hills, creamy, velvety soft.

To the side of me and behind me and when I turn back, nothing is untouched anymore, there is no before or after, in front or behind.

All sense of time, direction and separation dissolves into the magic of this night.

Indian traffic – surrendering into the flow

The taxi I am sitting in on this Delhi morning on my way to the Ghandi memorial and the red fort feels sturdy, a hardy bulwark, the constant, loud honking is in concert with all the other vehicles, pedestrians, bicycles, rickshaws, tuk-tuks, busses, trucks, vendors. The ring road is well-structured, organized, manicured, somewhat predictable.  Then we turn into old Delhi.

A smaller road, commerce, businesses, goats being sold on the sidewalk, carried over the shoulders of small men and smaller boys, led through the traffic.  Men cross the street, indicating to rushing, oncoming cars to slow down – they do or they push other cars out of the way to flow around the men.  The men rush or slow down but never stop and they don’t seem worried.  I wonder how often accidents actually happen.

Then we turn into a back street, of course against oncoming traffic and I am being transferred to a bicycle rickshaw.  Now immersion really begins.  My driver is so hardy, so small, so tenacious, so sinewy.  He is right in the middle of everything bigger than he is, than we are. Motorbikes honk, busses stop apruptly and jump lanes in front of us, cars squeeze us in from both sides, hardly leaving room, just millimeters so as not to get scratched.  The traffic gets denser and denser and the variety of traffic participants increases. Now a camel joins, motorbikes, taxis, SUVs, more vendors and goats crossing.

At first, I feel so heavy, so colonial, so big behind that small driver.  I feel as if everybody is looking at me and judging me.  I feel in the way. Glad to be dresses in long pants and a conservative shirt. And, I feel so vulnerable but that eases. Then, I amaze myself, my feet are not pushing the imaginary brake pedal, I don’t clutch anything. Making sure no body part is leaving the imaginary boundaries of the rickshaw. Planting my feet very solidly.  I am relaxed, trusting whatever flows outside us, around us, to continue doing so without crushing us.  It has been this way and will continue to be this way for a long, long time.

I look around and notice so much.  The passengers in the bus are so crowded, carrying bags, holding on with blank expressions, the goat vendors, people sleeping on the sidewalk, some covered completely by tarps or cloth, some curled up without anything. A man is retching, another weaving his way unsteadily around broken pavement. Tourists are buying peanuts and cool drinks.

And then I just am, with this moment. I sit up straighter and my confidence sets in. It is what is is. This is not taking place for the first time – what a release to surrender, to yield. What enjoyment, a bit of giddiness, a bit of serenity.  This trip to and fro is more memorable to me, more etched into my being than any of the tourist attractions I am heading for.

Leaving

What is it about this slow un-meshing, that separation, that unbending, untwisting, unfolding that is so hard, takes so long, is in itself a coming and going?

It happens at all levels, physical, soul, mind, energetically, changing the way of keeping space for and within.

It's like a fire that keeps reigniting itself but the flames are not as high, not as soaring, don't last as long before they fall back into glowing embers again.  The times between ignitions increases, the heat of the flames, the glow of the embers gets less and less.  It's like leaving happens before it has been thought of, thought into being.

Leaving is like removing tentacles, strings, lightwaves, tapestry strands one by one.  There are so many. And yet, the act of removing them is in itself an act of coming together, coming closer, for if they are too stretched, they can't be unhooked.

Leaving is like doing and undoing, like making happen and unhappen, like writing and re-writing history.  What is it about leaving that always leaves the sense of doing it too early or too late? Of doing it to someone or having it done to?

And at the best of times, there's a leaving that is also a returning,
a leaving to be able to come together more fully;
always knowing the risk of moving away too far to do so or with the knowledge that coming together again is meant to be;
always knowing that doubting develops a momentum of its own, that we can think and intent something into being.

Fall temple

The tall slender trees are framing both sides of the forest road.
They are so regal in their bearing.
The top branches are arching into a vaulted ceiling.
Leaves are already on the ground, smaller tress are filling in the spaces.
All is golden, orange, brown with bold shapes of grey and black.

The sky is turning pink from the early sunset, enhancing the red colors, the golden colors, the orange colors.
Like candles having been lit everywhere, that warm, vibrant, luminous glow.
And even though I am outside, I feel like I am inside.
Inside a temple, a cathedra, a palace...an architecture so perfect, that boundaries are redefined and cease to exist.

I am fully awake, taking in all that is around me with all my sense and all my being.
A path veers off, more golden archways leading into the distance.
A meadow, offering a glimpse of the sky, surrounded by curtains made of fall colored trees, drawn to show a design bar none.

I walk, no flow through this magic place, hardly believing my luck to be here, in this moment.

The flavors of togetherness

What flavors would togetherness have?

I sense it would have the taste of chocolate.  Smooth, dark, silky chocolate, melting on one's tongue, having an almost citrusy taste, lingering for a long time, very little exploding in deep flavors.

There would also be the comforting, solid, creamy, fresh flavor of vanilla.

And passionfruit.  That burst of full, ripe, fruity sweetness that tastes of exotic places which carry a promise of adventure and sensuousness and passion, full of life.

There would be something unexpected like mint or ginger or green team enticing, so bold it awes and bursts out, healing, speaking of travels past and future

Of course some chili - spicy, tangy, spiking passion and energy, causing excitement and even a little pain if too much is added - but well worth it

And cinnamon as reminder of the seasons, memories of gatherings, of outdoors and indoors, of lifetimes lived.

What a bouquet of flavors to lean into, yield to, play with and love. I can taste it all.

The best of partners

Looking into each other, looking out together, dancing, walking, being as one.

Scanning, intuiting, knowing, tracking, responding

Listening, respecting, honoring, refining

Co-creating, building onto, adding perspective

Blending, bumping into, sharpening, mirroring

Being patient, having fun, being sincere, caring, growing and supporting growth

Awed by each others gifts, enhancing gifts

Looking at each other without turning away, without tightening or stopping or over-flooding

Able to hold each others gaze with deep knowing, into the depths of each others eyes and beyond without too much or too little, not to long or too short, disengaging and engaging in synchronicity

Loving, moving forward boldly

Trusting, defining space, giving space, taking space

Anticipating, excitedly discovering new and relishing the old

Appreciative and grateful,  always knowing that together will be better than without,
that the space created for others can be held and shaped into something sacred, something that allows those within the space to grow and envision themselves beyond what they thought possible

Holding anger and disappointment, saying what real without fear of moving or pushing or pulling away

Knowing hurt might happen and it will be just a bump in the road

Walking new roads and bringing those discoveries back

Learning with and from each other, curious, interested, bringing those gifts to the world - together.

Bubbles

Energy is bubbling up in big, colorful, shimmering bubbles,
floating through my body and out
bubbles big and getting bigger
out of my eyes, my pores, my heart, my skin,
just oozing out, flying out
Smile on my face
Excitement
A life force not directed at anything or anyone
just bubbling out
they don't pop, just float

Effervescent water
sparkling, expanding my chest, belly and breathing
giggles within the bubbles
laughter so hard and big I will cry and roll on the floor
Girls laughter, bear laughter, wild cat laughter, shouting laughter, singing laughter, shaking laughter, gleeful laughter

Tears of gratitude for this moment, this space, this time

I am able to scoop up the world and dance with it inside my stream of bubbles
spiraling upward and out
Exuberance unnecessary to contain rather to expand and enfold
I am here in my body and am as large as the world

I am seeing bubble everywhere
Imagine the world, each and every being floating, merging, separating, bubbles within larger bubbles
Streams of bubbles like millions of children - honorary adult children included - blowing bubbles
Like divers coming back to the surface in the stream of bubbles, after that magical trip to an anciently familiar world

Can you see it? Can you hear it? Can you feel it?