The roar of joy that set the worlds in motion Is reverberating in your body And the space between all bodies. Beloved, listen.
Find that exuberant vibration Rising new in every moment, Humming in your secret places, Resounding through the channels of delight. Know you are flooded by it always.
Float with the sound. Melt with it into divine silence. The sacred power of space will carry you Into the dancing radiant emptiness That is the source of all. The ocean of sound is inviting you Into its spacious embrace, Calling you home.
Image show yellow ginko leaves on a grey cement sidewalk. A single drop of water rests on the center leaf, and a reflection of the sun is visible.
I woke up at 2 AM. Not uncommon, but this was different. I distinctly heard “Enlightenment. Enlightenment.” O dear goodness, brain, please let me go back to sleep. And yet it was persistent.
“Enlightenment. The light in me.” I had an urgency to find pen and paper, turn on a light that pierced the darkness, and write. I feel sometimes it’s important to share the process as a creative person, so here’s what came, only reordered slightly for clarity. ******************************************************************************** Enlightenment. The light in me. Becoming light. Finding peace. Finding innocence. Uniting with my inner child. The inner child as light? Innocence.
Innocence lost. Is it one defining moment, or a series of events?
Reaching for the light in me, like reaching for a glass of water. The thirst is quenched for a time, and then we refresh.
Innocence. The “pure” soul- or maybe better- or orginal soul. Full of wonder and awe. Exploring things deeply with the whole being because everything is fresh, and new. Experimenting. Figuring things out. Kids’ drawing showing aspects of what they see and feel.
Rising to the surface in times of joy- eating an ice cream cone. Looking at the sky. In times of sorrow- calling for Mama when hurt. Saying goodbye when driving away from a burning house (not mine. I saw this on a video). In times of hope- reconnecting with someone…the video I saw of a man taking his 5 year old son to meet his Grandmother for the first time…. there were two little boys standing on those steps.
Do those who live closer with Nature retain more innocence? Do artists?
What does pura vida mean? Pure life. Living in deep appreciation.
Getting the wonder taught out of us. Being taught to conform, rather than discover our full potential, unbound by convention.
“Personal growth” as commodification of the journey back to the soul.
Enlightenment is a process, not an end game. Not a competition. Not a hierarchy. Vibration is simply vibration. The colonization of communing with the soul is rampant.
Feeling like something’s wrong if we don’t know what our life purpose is (what do you want to be when you grow up?), as if it has to be ONE THING FOREVER, when the purpose might Universally be to learn, discover, love (the world around us, people, our selves) while we are in this body.
If we are lucky, we are born into an environment where we are nurtured, protected “just enough”. Not all beings have that privilege.
Has tech “stolen” that from kids? How seeing packs of kids out roaming is so rare any more.
Healing the inner child as reconnecting with that pure soul/original innocence.
The other day I wondered if when we die, we step fully into our happiest moment/memory before the next adventure begins.
Reaching. Obtaining. Enlightenment can’t be possessed. It’s the dance and music of the soul. ********************************************************************************Well. That was quite the adventure! Much to ponder. Seeds for creating. Seeds for being.
Image shows a paved narrow road, with trees and bushes on either side, and a bit of blue sky in the upper center.
It hasn’t escaped me these past few days.
Walking through the beautiful neighbourhoods near where I live. Old majestic homes, windy roads, and sculpted gardens.
Stopping to pet dogs. Chatting with neighbours. Sitting at my kitchen table reading and taking notes, or enjoying a meal I’ve just created. Holding a warming cup of tea or coffee in the mug the little boy across the way gave me for Christmas. ************************************************** The way a woman wearing an old coat a few sizes to big, and smelling of smoke, clutched it closer, as if it were a small comfort.
The thing that first I noticed about the couple walking through the store was that they were holding hands. You don’t see that all that often anymore, at least I haven’t noticed it. They looked to be in their late 60s/early 70s. And then I saw how grey they were. Their clothes rumpled and faded. Their shoes looked sooty. And their faces. Simultaneously blank, and yet so full. It was as thought they had suddenly materialized in the store, and weren’t sure how they got there.
I started to walk up to them, to say or offer something…. but they pulled closer together, and clasped their hands tighter.
It was then I knew. That there was nothing in the store for them in that moment. That more than anything, they wished they were just two people shopping. That they would go home, wandering through their beautiful neighbourhood, pet a familiar dog, and sit at their kitchen table to enjoy a meal they had just created.
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