The Void

Laments, Forgiveness and a Rowboat

It has been a long minute since I have said hello, so I am sitting down to write to you with nothing to say to see what happens. Feels like I am finally onto something. Inside of a world of words flying at us from so many pulpits, that one needs a sort of safety helmet for- mine would be hot pink with a rainbow winged pegasus on the side- the silence is disorienting.

And I am in a long lamentation, so that’s something to talk about. I lament all of the times I said NO to the wisdom of my heart’s desires to create, learn, expand, set forth into wild, unknown territories (which I am pretty adept at). Yeah the soul mutilating oppression of that ingenious, spirited drive to dare a new ledge, heart a flutterin’, is part of the mind’s conditioning we all share, I get that. I am no one special.

I am also a pattern breaker and big surf wave maker. I swim deep and fly high. It’s exhausting. But only when I don’t allow the wisdom of those bottom feeding friends, the below the belt dwellers, the tucked under that oldest stone singing through an ancestral Whale bone first people of the sea- and the light spinning, dream weaving, unbound, wind making winged ones born to fly into the belly of the Sun, to guide my manifestations. It’s a daunting task. Who on earth will hold me as I step off the ledge, newly hatched, with a newfound YES to Life pounding in my chest?

So many what if’s. How much power do I really have?

I don’t have any. It is nothing to possess. It is a force to rest into long enough to blur the illusory boundary that I am separate from that which can never be given or taken away.

Power is being humbled to the unplanned life and living each moment trying to inhabit the next breath with compassionate eyes wide open to all that tugs at the flesh of my heart. These little teeny tiny hooks in my soul, from whatever little lie with big teeth that dug in long ago, feel like monsters when I begin to walk towards the present moment and claim the goodness that abides. To be ok even when I’m not- because I always am.

There is a line in Sarah McLachlin’s (master) Fumbling Toward Ecstasy that drives right into me - “peace in the struggle to find peace. comfort on the way to comfort” That’s it. Full, whole, accepting, being with, dancing in between, holding both positions as sacred, allowing the bewildering love that guides to completely gut the fear while forever trembling like a child on the first day of school.

This in between time I am in, this void of nothing to say where the weather has become the more interesting and generative focus of my attention, may not be a time at all. Maybe the disorienting void, where all concretized knowing goes to die, is the heaven we seek (eek!). Maybe this is that middle road that leads to the cave where all can be laid down in the lap of Silence as She feeds you from Her tongue the one constant hum of life.

Whatever it is, I forgive myself for every moment of turning away from Love looking for Love. For turning to the noise while seeking silence, and for seeking peace inside of the war. Yes, I hear you non dual teachers- “there is nothing to forgive”. Truth.

Yet, the function of duality is as integral to the Mystery as breath to body. Without forgiveness, true forgiveness- the unloading of lies, the bedding of old ghosts, the brave act of rebirthing true identity and walking with the immaculate scars of Life as the impersonal blessing they can be, not some confessional that feeds on the shame game, we anesthetize a vital part of the emotional body that seeks to clear the pathways back to the original wisdom of immaculate perfection. Whoosh, did you get that?

This ritual act is a vital nutrient for the psyche as it re-opens the heart to deep self love which begets choices made in Love, in power with Life.

LAY IT DOWN

~Oh Beloved, the irony, the masterful mystery, the paradox of this lamentation is that everywhere I turned away from Love looking for Love, is what brought me home to You. My mind is bending into a one pointed sword of light under the fervor of your faithful gaze. My lover, teacher, mystery maker - I feel you so deeply, too deep at times for this blessed flesh to hold- but hey, I came to drown while breathing full and wide and to die while flying high in Your arms.~

A little unrefined word play inspired by this moment…

Was any of that helpful or make any sense? Maybe as much as rowboat in a tsunami, but hey it is what is alive today. Not trying to make much sense anymore, just trying to allow the rainbows to dazzle without analyzing the weather that blesses my senses.

And Blessed Thanksgiving Day- knee weeping gratitude is the new psychedelic therapy.

Thank you for watching, reading and being here. It really isn’t any fun without you.

TO MY PAID SUBSCRIBERS- MUUUAAAHH. I am sending you special prayers.