chilling

could not get warm,

could not sleep.

body stiff,

clinging to itself.

mind, racing;

heart, broken. 💔

parricide

in what state of mind

is such a thing possible?

over and over and over

to rip into the flesh

that bore you,

to hear their cries,

screams,

pleas,

to feel their warm blood,

to witness

Life

leave the forms

from which you came.

chilling.

what we are capable of,

we, humans,

chilling.

the fragility of our psyche,

stunning.

we all walk on delicate ice

internally.

what is considered reality

can –

does –

suddenly

crack!

we fall in

deep,

become frozen.

and there

commit acts

so devastating

they ripple

far and wide. 😢

A Year-End Stream of Consciousness

Lack of attunement is what I am feeling acutely … a familiar feeling … is this the “norm” for a Life of The Unexpected? If it is, how do I navigate? With patience, with altruism, with totality, with anticipation, with simplicity, with authority, with humanity, with freshness, creativity, and the allowance for emergence, with integrity, with diplomacy – with all your innate gifts. In this Moment of agitation, unease, entropy – where do I lean? When you don’t know yet what to do, do nothing, be Still – isn’t that the message this whole year especially from Goddess Sige, who appeared multiple times to and for me? Not so easy, Silence/Stillness – why I consume and seek incessantly and rarely find…What have I found this year? What have I learned? How have I changed ingesting so much beauty-full richness? What has integrated? I don’t know yet … and will wait … be patience until called back into The Eternal Void … What is the invitation here and now? What am I to learn? What are the insights? Where am I deaf and blind? How to emerge from this victim consciousness? What is another story? An epiphany? The Quintessence? What is the practice of equality that bridges weakness to Tenderness? What is the resolve needed to transform exhaustion and the deep desire to just dis-appear to truly hear and live Divine Will? I don’t know yet …Stop seeking and find what? Peace? Community? Attunement? “Right” Livelihood? Home? Meaning? Abundance? Yes, to all please … Do I believe it to be true: all that is sought resides within? What’s inside of me? Who am I? Why am I here, now? I don’t know yet … When will I know for certain? Maybe upon the last breath.

dreams

what is

a dream

come true

for me?

what lies

over the Rainbow?

don’t know.

is that wrong?

feels so –

like some thing

missing,

a crucial piece

of a puzzle

glaring

it its absence.

hidden away,

perhaps,

some where deep

in side

waiting

patiently

for the right time.

“live the questions”

Rilke advised.

one day,

you’ll bump into

their answers.

Message Blocking is Active

blocked 🚫

mere months

after The Transition

of he who was The Force

keeping family afloat,

tethered,

ever so delicately.

without him,

shedding,

the masks came off,

niceties abandoned.

“Love” disintegrated

to the point of blocking 🚫

take nothing personally.

still, sad,

feels abrasive,

like a middle finger 🖕

borne of deep hurt

a sense of disrespect,

expectations unmet.

The Circle 🔵 dwindling

by death

and, now, blocks 🚫

everything

so tender,

tenuous,

ephemeral.

One Week

Suddenly,

left eye

redness,

pain,

intense light sensitivity.

oh no, uveitis, again?

so soon?

sadness born of

a knowingness.

“I did this.”

relentlessly

disrespectfully

pushed and pushed,

ignored Body’s

implore

to stop,

subtract.

Then the dream

set in another time –

childhood.

garbage overflowing,

unattended

and yet,

still present.

a father

feeding a mother,

their daughter

holding space

for others.

The next day,

head slammed

into metal.

where?

right above

the healing

left eye!

did the brain move?

was some semblance

of sense knocked into

the head, a subtle

and much-needed,

shifting of consciousness?

A few days later:

morning, bore witness

to a wake of vultures

tearing into flesh.

evening, a searing ache

in the middle of the head,

eyes burning,

bedridden.

relief, only from

sleep –

stop,

subtract.

Thresholds & Gates

“How is Guirlaine?”

He, the CEO,

asked

her,

who formerly

engaged

weekly

with Guirlaine.

He was to do so now.

But He

seemingly

forgot

about

Guirlaine,

allowing her to

drift,

dis-engage,

become

more and more

untethered,

free

to explore

other realms & possibilities,

to consider

Thresholds & Gates,

and play in

The Liminal.

All is well.

All in Divine Order.

sacred work

what is the Sacred Work

I am to do

being

fully

here

now –

tired

grief-strickened

stunned

a tad numbed?

what can I offer

from “my” heArt

to “yours”?

the breath?

mere air?

yes, deep breathing

inhaling,

smelling

like the way of a baby,

taking It all

in and down

to the belly

to the Fire 🔥

hold It there

gently witness

trans-formation.

At the appointed time,

exhale

re-lease

birth

slowly

intentionally

Freshness

something new

something

needed

urgently

now!

This is what

I am

to do.

the wall of glass

an explosion!

a dismantling of perceived power,

a dramatic testament to impending change.

life cannot be contained,

controlled,

doled out in calculated bits

to a privileged few.

all this witnessed

through the wall of glass.

time ending for those over there –

the workers –

nearer to the raging Fire 🔥

and billowing towers of toxic smoke.

the possibility of extended time

and, perhaps, lessons,

for those over here,

a bit farther away  –

the family of consumers

living in the house 🏠

with the wall of glass.

The Current

The Current

came –

suddenly –

and took him away

from wife, young daughter,

family, aligned work,

and an adoring community.

“My apologies,” said The Current

whispering

gently

as The Soul left his body.

“You are to return Home –

now.

No tme

to say proper goodbyes,

to get affairs in perfect order,

to apologize.

This is your dharma,

your beautiful storyline

to come from water 💧

at the start of The Journey

and be taken back by water 💧

at the end.”

In memory of Malcolm-Jamal Warner 🙏💔

bible

a rather bold invitation made:

write your own bible.

at first, a bit of consternation,

followed by curiosity

and irreverent possibilities!

bible as just a word –

lower case b

supplanting the upper case and its connotations:

dogma

constriction

judgement

patriarchy.

no, in my bible

tales of only love

connection,

spaciousness,

and a direct –

always open –

line to Benevolence.