LINE IN THE SAND

Power, authority, dignity
The truth of us
Usurped in youth
By conscious or unconscious action
Becomes occluded
Covered by shame, guilt, rage, unworthiness
Which embeds itself in the delicate human design
Seemingly impossible to remove
But wait!

There comes a time when we must decide
That we are no longer defined by the insults
That happened in the past
The line in the sand, the ’no more’ place within

And when we do that we are called to our inner authority
And it is challenged by the world, by us, by others
And we may struggle to find who we are
Beyond the embedded self protective mechanism
But there is freedom in all of us
And nothing that we really are vanishes forever
And we have more power than we realize

Spirituality doesn’t do this for us
Other people can’t do this for us
We must find the line ourselves
And stand upon it
Over and over again if need be
With a kind of resolve
That makes it clear to the universe
We are done being defined by all that happened.

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

THE WEEPERS BRIDGE THE WORLDS

Let us cry our tears
For the coming and going
Holding the heartache
Close to our chest
Surrendering our resistance
To the inevitable
Not turning away
But bearing it all
Even as it breaks us wide open

The weepers, those who can weep,
Not just for those they love
But for all the coming and going
They bridge the worlds

For really there are not two
But one appearing as two
And the weepers dissolve the illusion.

Image by ELG21 from Pixabay

UNDOING

We have become done up
Some like tightly coiled springs
Others more loose and relaxed
But still, all done up

This doing-up is our conditioning
Our introduction and familiarization
With what we now call the matrix

It seems random what kind of doing-up we are subject to
But of this we can be sure
As soon as we catch a glimpse
Of something more intrinsic, more true,
Than the doing-upness

Something is set in motion
A search, a journey, a seeking, a longing,
An ever increasing awareness
That something is not right about the doing-upness

And that will bring us to the path of undoing
And what a path it is!

Image by Tawny Nina Botha from Pixabay

WISE UP

Those who does not know themselves
Cannot discern the difference
Between the snake oil seller
And the wise one
And will often follow the snake oil seller
Because their persuasive techniques
Appeal to the unmet emotions
Still held in the unexamined and unconscious system

Wisdom is not quite so easily fooled

We are in the intensity of those times.

Image by Christine Engelhardt from Pixabay

MASTERY OF THE SELF

He or she
Who can master
The agitated self
The obsessive self
The righteous self
The self that seeks power
The aggrandized self
The arrogant one
The worthless one
The self that imagines it is special
And the one that imagines it is not
The self that is constantly at war

Is free
And an asset to the liberation of others

He or she who is mastered by the self
Is a slave to their own ignorance
And a danger to the liberation of others

Mastery of self
Has nothing to do with force
And everything to do with
Surrendering the ego
To love’s all consuming fire

Without humility
The rampaging ego
Will rule the earth
Creating endless division
And feeding on
The fear it creates

Inner freedom loves
The freedom of others.

Image by Edward Lich from Pixabay

BECOME EMPTY AND FREE

Leave your bags
At the water’s edge
Go naked and empty

Dive in to the deep
Let the water cleanse
Your energy body

Do not look back
Neither look forward
Be where you are

Enter the moment
Between the in-breath
And the out-breath

Allow eternity itself
To be revealed to you
By dying to all
That is temporary

Be still
And walk
To the busy market
Return with your basket full
And your mind free.

Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

REMEMBERING HEART

A collective that cannot share its sorrows
Cannot sit together in its grief and suffering

And see each one in the eyes of the other

A people so lost in individuation
It loses its humanity

Has not lost its mind
It has lost its heart
Forgotten itself
Fallen under a spell

The task of the restless one
Is to remember their own heart
Uncover it from all that has covered it
And then to shine it out
So others may also remember theirs

That is all we can really do
The rest is up to the divine.

Image by Sarah Richter from Pixabay

AN INFINITE ECSTATIC SORROW

As I ran in the silence of the early dawn
Held by the emptiness of mournful piano

An infinite sorrow came upon me
Causeless and peaceful
It was without limit
Soft and almost imperceptible
And inside it
Was a kind of exquisite ecstasy

None of this needed any explanation or inquiry
No holding on to it
As though it were life itself
The air, consciousness, love

I was there, in eternity,
As eternity, a moment in time
A witness and a drop in the ocean
I may never recover
Neither would I want to.