As We Walk Upon The Water

 Language is a clumsy thing to wrap around the mysteries of what only occurs in deep silence. It is important that we visit this Silence. Allow it to lift us to a level above what appears to be our only view. The deeper vision of silence transforms our perspective in panoramic details of the breath and depth of Love we swim in as we traverse these landscapes of Earth. But, as a wise friend once told me, we are called in this life to be both "Mary" and "Martha". We are called to sit at the feet of Divinity. In reflection. Meditation and Prayer. But we are also called to rise up from the Mat. And to do the hard work of housekeeping. In our personal lives. In our relationships with ourselves and others. And in our Nation's. Throwing spiritual platitudes at raw spiritual pain does not serve as remedy. And it leaves us barren in our resolve to be accountable to, and in search of,  becoming a part of the remedy. There are children taking to the streets soon. In peacef

 My favorite altars, sanctuaries and tabernacles on the landscapes of this Earth, are the Hollows of trees. I study them closely and marvel at their Grace. They are simultaneously surrenders and offerings. Grounded in presence. Firm in their knowing of the firmament of the Divine. Arms uplifted, they welcome and allow all winds of change. Their Hollows are scooped up. Emptied out. Laid bare. Open from within. Their sacrifice of what once was becomes what is. Shelter and protection for the children of Earth. A nesting space. A resting place. For weary travelers and pilgrims on the journey through time. The Hollow offers the infinite whisper of Spirit, echoing tenderly through the branches above: "All is Well. You are safe here. You are loved and cherished and protected from all storms. You are held in a Love that has no end." I want to be hollowed out. Released from all that blocks my ability to offer sanctuary to those who pass my way. In my thoughts. In my words. In my deeds

 I believe that thoughts are things. Before the words are spoken or the actions taken, the thoughts arise. I have a choice which thoughts I will nurture, feed and grow, and which I will let pass like clouds in my Sky. I believe I am responsible for contributing to this world through the energetic frequency of the thoughts I send out that will ripple across our shared waters. With this in mind, I've found, to my utter amazement, a tool I can use in order to take aim at my target. I sought to hold the shining, silver steel. Cool in my hands.  Glistening with promise.  I wanted to be mindful of what I was projecting onto the screen of our shared experience. I sought to reconcile the ways of war within me. The judgements and criticisms and the blaming of others. The festering internal fears and an inability to understand the ways of those I disagree with. How often I attack through my thoughts, rather than seeking to see things more clearly. These were the weapons of war within me  I p