Musings on a sunny day

I wonder what we would see if our eyes caught different reflections from the objects we focus on.  What would I see if I had the black and white vision of a dog?  Or the sharp eyes of an eagle?  What would I no longer notice?  How different would my world be if I saw the world as a horse does?  What if, rather than touch, I felt the world through increased sight and sound and smell, or perhaps had no sight, or no hearing?  I wonder if I would notice the devastation my species has on the planet more acutely.  Maybe I would fall in love with this planet more intensely by noticing it in a different way.  How different would my lover appear to me if I could not see him, but could perhaps hear his intentions in his words, and could pick up on the various inflections of his voice?  What would I feel in the landing of a butterfly on the skin of my arm if the hairs on my arm were as sensitive as the feelers of an insect?  If I could see the wind, would it take all the mystery out of life?

If I were a dolphin, would I revel in the feeling of water rushing past my sleek body?  Were I a horse, would I gallop across a field purely to chase the feeling the wind makes as it wraps its fingers through my mane, entangling joy through its weaving?  If I were to wake up as a wolf, would I learn to recognize fear in a whole new way? If I were a tree, would I gain wisdom as I sit through hundreds of years of silent meditation?  What would a river tell me if I were a pebble sitting on the stream bottom?

I cannot know the reasons I chose to occupy this life of mine, perhaps the only reason is so that I may wonder all of these thoughts.  I get frustrated at times knowing that there’s no way to possibly know what it would be like to be anything else but who I am in this body.  But, I can imagine.

Godliness in a deer

The other evening, the sky was dark and stormy.  The colors blended together until even the bright flowers were faintly accepting the immensity of the occasion.  The wind whirled through the trees, whushing its way along.  If I looked hard enough, I could look beyond the pale green-grey of the fields and see beyond this world and into the next, could see where the wind rushed off to as it whipped through the grass.  All became one, accepting the wind’s mischief.  A bright spot of sunlight flickered down, outlining a deer’s coat in brilliance, and I saw in her a great God, and I was reminded of myself.  She snorted at me as I watched, bounding off into the forest in graceful leaps nearly twice her height.  It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

A mustard seed

While I am very much in love with myself and my spirit, I have always struggled with a certain frustration at not being able to experience what it’s like to not be me.  I would not trade my life with anyone else’s, I just…want to know what it’s like to, I don’t know, be a tree, or a flower, or have the brain power to understand the most complex math or physics.  Or to know what it feels like to be the brave amd courageous hero or heroine who brings goodness back to a desolate land. Or know what it feels like to think the way a man thinks. I feel like I could have a lot more sympathy toward my boyfriend if I truly understood the way he thinks 

This frustration has lead to jealousy.  Not jealousy of other people’s possessions, simply jealousy that I can’t inherently understand the way they think.  I am just me.  And this life is all I know.  I don’t know what it feels like to have a calm mind, or to live in a tropical location, or even something simpler such as having dark eyes.  I am, quite anxiously, me.

This has also led to neglect in getting down to the roots of who I am.  I spend so much time regretting that I can’t relax enough to sleep in til noon that I fail to act upon the meditative advantages that awaking at 6, or 4:30, can bring.  I agonize over how un-enlightened a culture we have and do not absorb the joy that comes from meeting one who has true wisdom.  My anxious and worried constitution has caused me to cry countless tears, as has my insistence to myself that I have nothing to offer this world except for a sensitive spirit that knows that there is a better way to support our existence on this planet, but doesn’t quite know how or desire to lead the way .  I am starting to wonder whether I have not come here to be the revolutionary heroine who brings the light back to a darkened land ( I am far to unorganized and indecisive to ever be an effective leader), but am here simply to be an observer who carries the tiniest mustard seed of knowing that there IS a better way.  I may not know how to be the leader who shows the way, and I lack the desire to be the revolutionary fighter, however, I will not harden myself to the destruction we bring to our planet and walk about in blissful ignorance of the poisons we surround ourselves with saying ‘that’s just the way it is’.  Perhaps my tears are all I need offer to this good earth to keep alive a seed of hope that one day we will truly awaken and know what it really means to live the glory of a human existence.

A little bit of faith and a little bit of water

I was just reading ‘The Faithful Gardener’ by Clarissa Pinkola Estes.  She is definitely a writer with whom I connect on a deep level (by the way- if you have not read ‘Women Who Run with the Wolves’, it comes *highly* recommended!).

As it always is with her writing, it was a beautiful little book.  The ending really captured me, and I wanted to share it here:

“What is this faithful process of spirit and seed that touches empty ground and makes it rich again? Its greater workings I cannot understand.  But I know this: Whatever we set our days to might be the least of what we do, if we do not also understand that something is waiting for us to make ground for it, something that lingers near us, something that loves, something that waits for the right ground to be made so it can make its full presence known.  I am certain that as we stand in the care of this faithful force, that what has seemed dead is dead no longer, what has seemed lost, is no longer lost, that which some have claimed impossible, is made clearly possible, and what ground is fallow is only resting-resting and waiting for the blessed seed to arrive on the wind with all Godspeed.

And it will.”

 Within the stories she tells in the book are stories of a man whose ravaged and war-torn land causes him to act out in the only way he can- he plows and burns those lands that were so dear to him, explaining to his little niece during the process that what has seemingly been ‘ruined’ is now very much fertile, able, and willing (hospitable) to accept new seed that comes on the wind, from the mouths of beast and bird, from all factions of the earth really, to grow into another beautiful forest with time.  The ground has been made bare and promising, patiently open to the gifts of rain, fire, seed.  Because of it’s open and inviting ‘hospitality’, a great thing will begin to happen here.

I also just read a book called The Scent of Water: Grace for Every Kind of Broken.  Another beautiful book in which the author brings us into her world, a world where she travels to many different parts of the earth seeking out those women who have been somehow drawn into scarred worlds of prostitution, drug use, oppression, silence of voice and spirit.  The author brings us through her struggles through meeting and helping these women, and into the beauty she finds in the broken.

I see how these books exalt the power within all women.  Women who have been broken, shamed, saddened, scared, scorned, left, and hurt in any number of ways.  Women whose souls have been ravaged and left for dead.  Our inherent willingness and ability to remain open and tender after countless abuses over years and years allows for great and beautiful things to burst forth and flower. There is beauty and promise no matter how hidden.  With just a little bit of faith and a little bit of water, wonderful things will grow from the most unlikely of places.

What I want

I want to work as a brewer, surrounded by the sweet, barn-like smell of hops, barley and malt.  I want to create community in a kitchen making wonderful things for people to eat.  I want to watch new life be born on a farm and experience the miracles as these young ones realize that yes, they are alive.  I want to plant seeds with my hands, face and knees covered in soil and really live the joy I feel when they germinate, grow, and bear fruit.  I want my horse in my backyard with soft breath on my cheek.  I want to use my hands to create things of beauty to bring a smile to my loved ones’ faces.  I want to live, love at my side

on soul mates

Do you ever feel drawn to a person and you can't figure out why?

I have met many people with whom I feel an intimate, dramatic and intense bond.  It's absolutely unexplainable. If I were ever to believe in reincarnation, it would be moments like those.  Where I literally feel a string connecting the two of us.  Occasionally, the emotions evoked are akin to pure fascination and infatuation.  I'm not talking about a physical attraction to a person, like a beautiful celebrity or a charismatic leader.  I'm talking about deep down soul-shaking attraction.  I believe that those people we are attracted to in a beyond-physical way are in some fashion our soul mates.  I always hear others talking about soul mates in a way that implies someone you're meant to be with in this life.  Your other half; the one to make you complete.  I do not believe that about a soul mate.  A soul mate in my opinion is one who shakes you to the bone.  One who wakes you up and makes you pay attention to you.  A soul mate resonates with your singular vibrations and causes you to stop following the flow of life so you can wake up to something that needs attention in order for you to grow more in order to bear your fruit.

Sometimes you may not find the reason you are drawn to this being.  Not in this life.  That can lead a person to go crazy, literally insane.  When you feel  like you can't let someone go, that their soul calls out to you and you to theirs. This infatuation leads to dramatic ends in many cases.  Ever notice that often the people you can't quite let go of are the ones who bring out the worst in you, or maybe not the 'worst', but the most passion and intensity?  You may fight constantly with each other, but you can't stay away.  Those people are your soul mates.  Those are not people you should be in a lasting relationship with.  They are short-term teachers.  Learn from them, and move on.

These of course are simply my rambling thoughts on this chilly November evening.  Take from them what you will :)

It is time

I have come to a realization.  I spend a lot of time wading around in the sad places of my soul.  Yes, I have many sad places.  But, I have infinitely more (sometimes hidden) appreciative and joyful places.  I am a complex woman.  Childlike in nature, yet deeply rooted in a contemplative mindset where I dwell among the old beings of trees and rivers whose dusty and echoing conversations consist of lessons learned through an eternal life.  Deeply rooted yes, but also high reaching am I.  Soaring, seeking, finding, accepting.  Learning, doing, being, watching.

I think it is time for me to let go of the sadness and the anxiety that seem to be tied tightly by my side.  I think it is time to tap into my inherent wisdom and share the goodness of my being with those around me.  Every day, I am discovering more about who I am, and I think it's time to start living who I am instead of who I'm not.  I have spent enough time being who I'm not, and now I am ready to let go of that.  I feel nervous, and scared, and I feel like I can't let go of someone I've been for so many years.  That nervousness shows me that it is truly time.  Time to evolve!