Wednesday, February 25, 2015


Kindness is our ever-present perfect Self, the Christ in us awaiting revealing.   It's built in from the Manufacturer, and is our unfolding home in God. Our humanity moment by moment, is the prodigal soul each time we've sought our advantage over someone else's.  Even more than kindness, the Father breathes upon us unimaginable celebrations of our origin, love and grace, not because we did anything but because we belong to someone and something so unimaginably beyond who we perceive ourselves to be. 

Religion. a first-born brother, a very-present, religious, upstanding self-righteous, law abiding brother. He demands punishment because we were unable to fulfill his expectations.  But kindness never resorts to unending punishment, but always seeks the advantage of the other, remediating and forgiving, just like our Father does.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Infinite Mystery

I've camped at the well of certainties, yet Mystery is what I've thirsted for. Exhausted by routines of sameness and toxic predictability, I came to the realization of a universe so grand, so full of diversity and Life, yet I was stuck in a corner of my universe that seemed to be void of any such Life. 

Release me from my vantage point of certitudes and finiteness, which prevent me from seeing all the Mystery and Infinity that you are.

The unconscious mind is deep below the surface of the waters. The outer persona hovers over this apparent void pulsating like lovers prior to release into freedom from their ego.  Something deep is ultimately emerging from this dark place.  Unknown and mysterious is our True Self. Darkness awaiting light.  There is an ignorance we all possess about what is beneath, and it cries out to us from our Deep.

We want to be known. We want to know.   

Deep cries out to deep. The Deep is the inner and the deep is the outer.  It is You that is the mystery awaiting the revealing. There is this You that is beyond your wildest imagination.  You only get there by faith and faith is the Deepest depth you can not see, where there is no sight or assurance. We dive headfirst into the Deep,  our certainties forsaken and infinite Mystery continues

Monday, February 16, 2015

Symphony of Narratives

I've lived about a half-a-century. 50 years of trials, temptations, successes and failures, scars and joys, births and deaths, deaths and resurrections.  I've arrived at where I am because of these experiences. I Am Life because of them.

My experiences have taught me that within my deepest Self there is a narrative flowing forth. I Am an unfolding drama.  More importantly, I am an unfolding drama within that is animating into a living expression, outwardly.   Our personal narrative is something extraordinary and it is most accurately termed Life. 

So many counterfeit narratives seek to invade our inner Self vying to rent space in our minds and corrupt the Life that is truly Who we are.  I Am space intimately crafted for only one story.  Yet other dramas seek to find lodging within me---some subtle and some blatantly promoted. It is a tragedy when I mimic or attempt to read the script or be animated by another script, when mine is all there is.

For the enlightened, it becomes a game to avoid conversion, for conversion narratives are constantly knocking on our door, or even kicking in our door.  "Be converted to our story, our ideology, our  religion, our product, our party." But there is only one narrative I am to live out and it is unfolding within me, not outside of me.  I really don't have to "do" anything for it to unfold, anymore than I have to tell my heart to beat or my autonomic systems to work. 

Life has become a silly and exhausting narrative for most, not the unfolding Life that brings peace and joy.

I must only live the narrative that is true to me,  expressing my own experiences, living my own adventures and coming to terms with the experiences and life that flows out from within me.

My unique expression has been given a place on the main stage in the here and now, and it is essential that my part be played in this great symphony of Life.  What I play blends with other parts and something greater than my single part, is then realized. But without my part, the greater harmonies and beauty is lost for the Whole.

I pray the realization of your own magnificent story and the piece you must play in Life.  All of us are journeying into discovery and this takes Life's experiences.  It also takes faith, grace and courage to walk out your own story, which will mean you'll say "NO!" to so many others vying for your space.   We all have something to say, but may it not be to convert others to our own personal narrative. Instead, may it be to convert, reassure and inspire ourselves. When we are inspired and are true to our own narrative, there is a greater harmony and beauty expressed in this symphony of narratives for and by our Great Conductor.


Sunday, February 15, 2015

The Secret of Life (It's Play, Not Work)

A Moment

We grieve because we feel the loss of someone, something we love.   Losing hurts deeply. But isn't the idea of losing something, or someone, hinting at possession?  Do we really possess anyone or anything?

Life and love is not about clutching tightly for permanence, like stuffing butterflies in a box, but it's the gentle and almost intimate caressing of those butterflies that land in our hands for just a few moments.

I never possessed you.   I never held you, or intimately caressed your wings, though you landed in my hands.   Your wings were translucent and fragile and I wondered, when you landed, if you had ever even flown with those beautiful wings before.  You must have because you somehow flew to me.  My heart raced for those few moments.  I felt dormant corners of my soul awakened by you as the shades were pulled up. You were like a summer morning. 

The breeze whistled to you to fly further, to test your news wings on the invisible beckoning lift.  As quickly as you landed, you were gone. 

I have this peaceful memory of you. All your beauty, splashes of color and the loving tenderness you brought with you. There are these faint mists of you in my mind.  You fly through my mind at the strangest times. The middle of the night.  The early morning when I know you're awake, early, just like me. These mists... more real to me than these feelings of loss, which will pass away because the warmth of life's sun, and all new moments, gently disperse the mists of the moments passed.

Fly, baby, stretch your wings, but make sure you land again because your love---the delicate and astounding life in you, is the  joy that some of us need, even if only for what seems to be a moment.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

My Knock At Her Door

 I saw her 
In my dreams
Captured in night's
Unguarded moments
Two scenes remembered
When I whispered her name
But she would not glance
The other 
She walked from me 
When I asked her to dance
I was left with outstretched hand
The sigh of my heart

 I couldn't believe
I'd lose her twice
I wouldn't believe
These prophetic vignettes
Because the heart
Keeps seeking
What it wants
My soul
Wanted to breathe her in
Like fire breathes oxygen

Decades spun back to us
Almost as it once was
New fields we're in  
New bridges crossed
So much water under our bridges
Yet like before
My heart simply could not
Move her enough to
Answer my knock at her door