My dear, this world, its laws, our perceptions, are such a minute part of existence.—Hafiz I see that life is a game. I didn’t know this so I would take life seriously, think that I couldn’t handle it, and thus I would fling myself onto the altars of the lower chakras. I would seek sex and […]
The mind is a book, a maze of sentences set in a state of permanence from which it cannot escape itself. The Beloved is an azure sky with puffy white clouds anvil thunderheads, swirling tornados raindrops, hail, sleet blazing sun— a rainbow. This true Love is still fluid, adaptable— ready with the perfect action in […]
The ability to stay centered in the Love during an attack— that is valuable, much more than any material possession or worldly achievement.
Fluttery white flakes caress chive blossoms. Piñon smoke licks baby grass. Winter unites with spring birthing Love.
A poem from my friend Michael Hock: Row Your Boat Yes, it is far, then it’s close. Who one is recedes as one draws near. As if first one climbs a steep way, then discovers one has wings, or deaf forever, one awakens to the heartbeat thrum of a butterfly, and why do you not […]
I am the hibiscus through which the Beloved imparts Its fragrance. Image: Kauai at dawn
“We have a human body in order to discover our own spiritual essence, and for no other reason. We are not down here simply to create a family, we do not incarnate just to work on an assembly line, and we are not here merely to find the ideal mate or to wear beautiful clothes. […]
I see a stunning scarlet poppy field backed by blue mountains, the beauty easing my being on a cold Monday morning. But then I look at the source of this image on my Facebook timeline and my sense of peace turns to ire. “How dare she post this with no credit to the photographer!” I […]
So often in our days we gaze downward. Look what can happen with a simple change of viewpoint. Image: Nordski Trail, Sangre de Cristo Mountains, Santa Fe, NM
I walk room-to-room with a willowy woman who loves her cats. As we look over the garage, she talks of them, the ones from her past, who have died, and the two in her present life, who remind her of the past ones. She ticks off their names, so many cats that I grow confused. […]