As We Walk Upon The Water

 The word “conviction “ is a noun. One of its definitions is “a firmly held belief.” The former president of the country I live in has just been convicted and found guilty of 34 felony counts in a court of law, by a jury of his peers. I am conflicted by my reactions to this event. In some ways I am relieved that accountability has finally come to pass  upon a mountain of what I have “a firmly held belief “ in as a long list of atrocities. In other ways I have only sorrow. Partially because I do not think that this man will actually be treated like any other felon in the history of felonies. Accountability will not truly come to pass. My other dilemma lies in the fact that there are many who view this as an atrocity and a form of political theater. These brothers and sisters of mine may still vote this man into office and I will be faced with the challenge of reconciling that which I do not comprehend.  I truly believe that this man is the living persona and embodiment of ...

 “All this noise. So much noise. On your TV screens. In your politics. In your wars. In your minds.” “ The noise begins and ends with You. The chaos that can serve as a catalyst for the creation of change, must be blessed by Your compassion and Your Harmony .” “ This is not to tell you to look away. Or to not stand up for the Peace you seek. It is merely a reminder that Peace is already Here. Awaiting your arrival. And Humming your name as an essential chord in its survival.” “The creations of the Children of God should be Witnessed and Pondered. This is merely a call to take Pause before acting, or speaking, or judging.” “When the Father created the Heavens and Earth, and the Great Mother sighed as She inhaled the Birth, the Children were given custodial Light of unfathomable Worth. And the Great Father sighed, and He said: “It is Good.” “The Children of Creation have spent lifetimes creating. And often, miscreating. Through a glass, darkly. In fogs of forgetfulness. Sleepwalking ...

 “Let me speak to you now about the Altars of this Earth. There are many that have been constructed in Honor of Me. By well intentioned people and their perceptions of who I am.” “I visit these landscapes often. Unnoticed by those who call my name. I walk through the Shrines and Grottoes. Placing my hands on the hearts of those who seek Me. For an instant , those I touch  inhale a moments Peace. As if a warm breeze has just been drawn into the spaces where they once felt breathless. They do not know that I am there beside them, for they do not yet believe that this is possible.  They bow their heads in prayer to thought forms, and far away images of Me that they have fashioned  according to their understanding.” “In Truth, all of the Grounds of Earth are Holy. As are The Children of God who walk upon them. For all is the Kingdom. And has always been the Kingdom. And the Kingdom of Heaven is Here where you stand.” “I am much like you. I am a Daughter and a Mother and ...

 I found an old journal for the purpose of setting the intention of attempting these dialogues. On the front page was an old poem I had quickly scribbled down before moving on to other things that seemed to call out for my attention. What is it in this life that really needs our full attention? What do I personally focus on and give fuel to, as if fanning the flames of the sparks of life that will bloom in my garden?   This dialogue may seem to be a distraction. A crying out for something “other” to come forward and guide me, or an expression of my imagination in attempts to hold myself through the fog of uncertainty that often descends in this lifetime. In Truth, it matters not. In Truth, we are intricately connected to all that has been and ever shall be. And it has been said, that if we but knock on the door it shall be opened. The poem in my otherwise empty journal went like this: “Above all else I want to See  The Heaven that’s surrounding me  The thought in whi...

This might just be the most impossible string of words that I have ever attempted to weave together. The impossibility lies in my intention for them to convey what cannot adequately be conveyed in words. There is also my hope that these words will outlast me and breathe unending love into those who will read them and refer to them on cloudy days. This has all come about from the ache in my heart that misses my mother even more with each passing Mother’s Day. It gets harder. And more filled with regret for all that I did and did not do. I realize that not everyone has had the great good fortune of being raised in loving environments with those who loved them and protected them in the ways they most truly needed. I also realize that sometimes parents can be deeply flawed and yet somehow, someway, their intention to love surpasses their inherent shortcomings. My parents are no longer present on this Earth. As time passes, I miss them more. I forgive what I did not understand. And I pray t...