As We Walk Upon The Water

 I would like to invite us all to take a collective deep breath. Even those of us who have difficulty with this seldom appreciated action of benevolence and grace. A deep breath can simply be a pause. A centering. A home coming. Just place your trembling hand on your beautiful, vulnerable, sacred and still beating heart. And there it is. Here it is. The drum beat of our unity. The song of our Oneness. The wordless prayers of a world on its knees. There is an election approaching in the United States. An election that has caused us to divide ourselves. An election that has caused us all anxiety and the inability to take a deep collective breath. There are unspeakably brutal wars occurring. With death tolls rising and no clear end in sight. There are wildfires, floods and hurricanes. With death tolls rising and no clear end in sight. And meanwhile. Beloveds are sitting at the bedside of beloveds who are leaving this painful, beautiful, agonizing and precious world. And children are b...

 I am fascinated with language. I find it quite Miraculous when spoken words can be drawn forth from the ethers and woven into clothing for the offering up of what can’t be clothed. Or spoken. Our deepest communications are often the felt sensations that we confer upon and convey to each other beyond any need to utter sounds. Language itself is a conundrum. It has a history and a symbolism that can often be felt differently by both the speaker and the one being spoken to. I have recently been invited to several social gatherings. I am grateful to be welcomed in and thought of. I am grateful to be called to the table of community and shared communion with those I love. I am also mindful of the lessons I’ve been learning in this self created hermitage that is my life. And I am feeling both a sense of caution and optimism. I am asking of myself these days to listen more and to speak less. In an honest attempt to understand and to surrender and to make of my heart a nesting space of sa...

 Have you ever heard it? That background sound that seems to Hum. That sound that speaks in stillness and gently calls to you. And rocks you . And holds you as you sleep within the great Womb of the deep.  That Humming sound of all that is and ever shall be. That Grace filled echoing that speaks the Truth beyond all form. And knows your Name. And why you came. I have recently taken a sabbatical from social media and the unfolding events “as they appear” upon my Tv screen. Because of what I’ve seen. Inside myself. I have seen villains. And wars. And judgements. And divisions. I have felt the uprise of anger and resentment and frustration. I have wielded heavy swords from within myself that I draw forth at a moment’s notice, against my “perceived “, “enemies”. Until the Humming. The Humming. The Humming. That called me back from the edge of the ledge on which I stood. And asked me to sit awhile within the silence of the great unfolding. And to surrender my swords. And to trust i...

 I have been privileged at times, to behold the Great Blue Heron in flight. The massive blue white wingspan left me speechless and awestruck. The sheer majesty and fluid trust of movement took my breath away. The power and elegant beauty of flight seemed to call to me, and dare me to loosen all doubts that had clipped my own wings. I have witnessed this same kind of breathtaking flight through the gentle unfolding and merging of wings in the union of my Son and his Beloved. They have journeyed through this life while flying solo. Testing the deep waters in themselves and others. Until the day came when the deep seeking was answered in the reflection of each other that those waters brought forth. It was then that they emerged from the holy waters of searching, into the vast expanse of Being, as two beings merged as One. They became two wings united in flight. Trusting each other’s hearts as navigational frequencies of unified aerodynamics. I want to Bless this Union and hold it in m...

 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...

 I recently saw a post on social media that caught my eye and captured my attention.  At first I wondered why someone would post such a grim and disturbing photo amidst these troubled times that beg for hope and healing. In the photo there is a doorway that largely reflects the shadow of a gnarled and twisted and lifeless tree. The shadow looms and seems to hiss and contort itself into the face of a monster who has come to devour its prey. I questioned why this photo would be shared with such a trembling and tender world. I could not, however, look away. I studied it closely. I wondered and sought answers. And I decided to read the comments of others who had viewed the post. Through the commentary I heard the chorus.  Through the commentary I was given a metaphor for life.  In one clear voice, those who had commented, sung out this essential refrain: Look Toward The Light. I revisited the photo and shifted my focus. There before my eyes, staring out from beside the d...

 There is snow on the Lavender. Falling in slow motion, crystalline light on the evergreen leaves. It started last night. With the rise of pale clouds that could still not conceal the reveal of the rising of star light. The swirling of seasons merged gently upon the soft leaves. Still they did not close up, or curl in, or seek cover or cower. They did not complain or give care for “tomorrow.” They simply embraced the unfolding slow grace of the mystical shower.  They opened more fully. Surrender enlivening their deep seeds of Power.  Receiving the whispers of star light as white light as transparent crystals of rain. In their deep letting go to the new fallen snow, was the wisdom of spring that allowed them to grow. Evergreen. In full honor and knowledge of all that’s transformed through our humbling, life giving wintering.  Can I learn the true language of Lavender leaves? How to open to Fall and release what must leave? Can I bow my head down in unbridled release ?...

 The title of this essay may appear to be misleading. As if it were a testimony to despair. But I assure you, it is quite the opposite. I have been studying the nuances between three energies as I walk the landscapes of our current world unfolding. In my own life as well, there are terrains I must learn how to walk through towards safe landings on firmer ground. The world is at war. Children are suffering the effects of the adults who have lost sight of them. There is unspeakable violence. Inhumanity and division seem to grow bleaker with each passing day. I have been examining the essences of three Teachers inside me that once felt like life jackets in troubled waters. These are the hallowed teachings of Hope, Faith and Belief. They are at times, singular and powerful of their own accord. At other times, they are intertwined and I find myself unraveling their threads to enlighten my understanding of their inner cords. As of late, I am learning to shed the skins of all three. In ho...

 Not long ago, I cared for my aging Mother as she flirted with the landscape of the deep woods of dementia. She would wander in and out as if testing the waters of hide and go seek and hold on and release. I worked part time, thinking it was safe to leave her at home for only a few short hours a day.    The last season of Autumn in which she was still mobile and not quite as fragile is etched in my mind.  I would frequently find her as I drove up the driveway, standing in the front yard, gathered up inside the space of her enchantment and beholding. My Mother was utterly enthralled and joyful. There in the midst of the swirling of leaves she had gathered and unknowingly released. Her chosen receptacle for the placement of her harvest was a laundry basket. She tenderly gathered the leaves and offered them gently off of the rake and into their place. She did not seem to notice them leave in the breeze through the deep holes that could not contain them.  At that ti...

 My book of Shadows  Here does lay  Before me with its interplay With invocations of surrender Trusting in the winding way The spiral journey deep within  Where shadows lie and light begins  Where darkness is as much a womb as light will ever be  What’s in the way is now the way. Its Truth cannot be held at bay  It faces false and hidden halls Rewriting writings on the walls  From past beliefs and hidden tears From future grief and what that bears In silent calls The shadows come  To heal it all  Reveal it all  If I but sit and merge amidst the shifting of it all The orb of light is born from deep within what’s hidden  Its revelations of insight once thought forbidden  But gifts of mist and shadow turn me back around  To excavate what has been buried and can now be found  The Diamond light Concealed once from my sight Is now invoked as I lay bare my fear  And face it is an ally and a friend  Who comes n...

 I was once told by beloved friends, that Truth is a Diamond. They said that we are all given a place in this world,  with a singular orientation and location from which we view this Diamond.  They said that all viewpoints we hold contain aspects of truth. But the whole Truth is out of our focus. Unless we try hard to zoom out and zoom in, towards a viewpoint of Ultimate, Absolute, Unequivocal and Enduring Truth. As I’ve witnessed the events unfolding in the world on my TV screen in recent days, I have curled up in the fetal position. Unable to speak or stop the bleeding. I have been trying to gather the children in my arms. The children of Afghanistan and Ukraine and Russia. The children of Israel and exiled Palestine. The children of Cleveland, Ohio. I have been asked why this all bothers me so. For it has always been this way. And ever shall be. But in the Diamond Light of my own understanding, we have taken birth repeatedly in order to heal the belief systems of separ...

 The following is a true story.  And it is a story that asked me to drop all stories I had ever thought I’d known before. I ask only that you read it with the eyes of the heart, so that its grace can be felt and its message received  deep within you.  Some background information before we begin.  I grew up with two of the most loving parents I could ever have hoped for. I lived in a city suburb and was taught by the Nuns of the Roman Catholic Church. I was the oldest of three children and our lives were carefree until the day our parents divorced. We were so young and we misunderstood and misinterpreted the events that unfolded. My Father was the North Star and guiding light for every one who knew him. He was the love of my life and the love of the lives of all those that he touched. The ever charismatic Irishman. The bagpiper, police man and protector of hearts. He simply shined.  My father remarried. His new wife and her five children would become his wed...

 The seasons of life change so quickly on Earth. Like a slow, steady cycle and spiral of unending birth. September and I have established a new relationship. I have had to learn how to walk on my knees, as I learn deep surrender enough to withstand the slow fall of my leaves. I confess that I still cling to the enchanting summer winds that always seem to end too soon. This fleeting season of the sun now passes by more quickly than it ever had begun. Yet, such a wild and wondrous harvest I have gathered in my grateful, honored arms. I have been so safely held and deeply blessed. I can feel the love of my children as if their heartbeats drummed in sync with my own breath. I have been visited by friends both old and new, who’ve come to sit awhile and rest and share the view.  There’ve been new layers added to the tapestry of those I hold so dear. New weavings and new patterns of a great design, unfolding now and through the tapestries of space and time.  And yet, amidst this...

 Many years ago, I was blessed to attend a gathering. It was held within the ancient embrace of an old Episcopal Church in the heart of my city. The landscape could not have been more perfect, as this was a gathering called together for purposes of entering the deep heart itself. A most wise and gentle Shaman gathered us into the heartbeat of the drum, and then set us free to find our own footing on the painted  Labyrinth of the old stone church. I stood transfixed and yearning for my arrival at The Center of it all. The Home I craved. The enlightenment I longed for. I leaned into the Shaman’s guidance. He told me that there were no rules. I was free. And I could choose my path. My heart leapt as I headed straight for the core of the Labyrinth. I almost ran to the center , falling on my knees when I thought I’d arrived at the Heart of it all. But the moment split open. I had bypassed the Journey.  Seeking Heaven without the deep lessons of Heaven as Earth. And its spirali...

 I sigh before I write this. Once again . It is meant as a Knight Light from my inner land, to soothe you and hold you wherever you stand. I truly come in Peace. To seek and find and share release. I do not mean to preach. Nor to do harm to hearts that dance to a much different beat. That is in fact, the point of every line and creed and seed within this vast reflection. And confession. And. I humbly do believe . It is and ever after shall be, the deep  point of our One journey as we travel this majestic, blue-white , spinning Star. There are storm clouds and fires and droughts all across God’s green Earth. This Paradise has been our Birth. Laid bare and pure before our busy feet throughout these years. There are now tears that flow from Sea and Sky . Asking us Why. Why do we never See. Our privilege and our great responsibility.  And there are wars. On our TV’s. And In our countries and our city streets. In Churches and in Classrooms and the Corner Stores. These are our ...

 This is an open letter to all my relations. To all my ancestors throughout all times past and those to come. This is my prayer and my testament as I kneel within the Hollow of the Tree that birthed us all. I am now an ancestor. I am an elder of my lineage. I am a representative and caretaker and matriarch of all that shall carry on and unfold when I have reached the other shores. And I am a matriarch of the Now that lays at my feet, and of those I love who are Now before me. I write these words in full witness to the absolute and breathtaking and awe inspiring privilege of what it means to be alive. And to honor all those who have come before me. And after me. And beside me. And to strive to make a difference while the difference still remains within my ability to grasp and to release. The Earth is on fire. The flames all grow higher. Our divisions are spiraling out of control. We take aim at each other in midst of the flames. Seeking weapons and blame to absolve us of what we won...