ruminating again: “who says words with my mouth” (video; rumi)

This video by 4SeasonsProductions.com juxtaposes the poetry of Rumi (spoken by Coleman Barks) with Debussy’s Clair de Lune. against the backdrop of  vintage film of early Market Street in San Francisco…

…and leaves me with a calm yet still sense of longing.

I originally posted another Rumi video here. And, I have written of my personal experience with ecstatic Divine Union in my unpublished manuscript, Making Love to God, which begins here.  Subsequent sections can be found in the “Browse my Archives by Category” menu in the right-hand sidebar.

the bejeweled bedrock of the psyche: all i ask is this

If you haven’t yet noticed, I’m all about a multidimensional, multifaceted approach to existence. That means I willingly (or not-so-willingly) embrace the (so-called) good, the (perceived) bad, the sacred, the sublime, and the ridiculous.  In two healing sessions this week, I hit bedrock — core, foundational, cellular stuff that continues to reveal a panoramic, 3D, 5D, 9D view of my soul’s journey. The only way “out” is “through,” and I am embracing every delicious, painful, wretched, exhausting step of the way! Thanks to Robert Donaghey for the art: click through for more of his soulful, mystical work.

The Dark Night of The Soul, by Robert Joseph Donaghey, www.artisticgenius.com

all I ask is this:

that when my eyes blear red with weeping,
a gentle hand will sluice down the waters of my leaking heart

that when my Sisyphusian shoulders bleed with the desolation of restitution
comfort shall be offered and thus received

that armor will be removed with tender touch
soothing salve laid solicitously on searing wounds dressed by nimble fingers
and a light fluttering of wings touch their lips to my threadbare, sodden lids

all I ask is but this:

that when the memory of the greatest Love the world has known
racks me in a shuddering release of pain and passion,
the arms of eternity will wrap ‘round me and quietly still the eruption of my soul

that in the darkness, light will flicker
and in the light,
the darkness will deign to shade me from a rasping glare

that the sun will rise in the morning and warm the frozen tundra of my smile
the mockingbird sing every song yet sung
the grass underfoot beckon my weary step in welcome

I pray this and nothing more:

when I bestir myself to survey the battlefield on which I lay,
i ask only to be gifted sufficient moments of silence
musical echoings of heaven’s vast canyons
a way made through the carcasses that litter the surrounding ground
and I am given a peace in which to gather my shredded wits about me

that the terminating moment is once more held at bay
the upturned jug fills my mouth with a quiet cascade of ambrosial waters
the torn and tattered legs beneath extend me to height once more

and that I return emptied of ancient agonies
wiser and yet more willing
rapturous in fulsome heart
and filled with the abiding glory of the unseen

true love’s gifts (classic): these are the words that fit the day

Thanks to the divine ram0singhal, who brought this poem of mine back into my awareness at the perfect moment in time. I originally wrote and posted it at the tail end of 2009, but these sentiments are always in season, are they not?

The Lovers, by Pablo Picasso

true love’s gifts

Here are your gifts, sweet blessed child,
Now laid upon you fair and wild
You shall love, be loved, in equal measure
Gather pockets filled with earthly pleasure
Step with supple grace through Beauty’s way
And rest serene where’ere you lay.

In this sachet the woodbine whispers
Honeyed words now whiff, now bow,
To tuck within your flaxen bodice
Press upon your rumpled brow,
Poetry’s perfume can soothe, anoint,
Pierce lover’s breast with quiver’s point,
But not one word can Love restore
To the heart that cries, “Enough! No more!”

Within this pouch behold! your fate
Swaddled close near unlocked gate
Look closely, there! the slender key
Portends your unchecked destiny,
It fits, unites, with nary a crack
A seamless joining, front to back
Yet the fruits of Love will never befall
One whose latch clings rusted to clay-sodden wall.

Receive this crystal, its perpetual bloom
Splays refracted illuminance round interior rooms
In its presence clarity dwells within
Yet remains in shadow until the spinner spins,
Until the dancer dances, the kiss is shared,
Only through willed action is true intention bared.

Here are your gifts, my beloved child,
Use them only as inspired
They will lead you to joys unimaginably grand
Spark leaping flames lit by love’s inner fire,
Many may loiter round the moat of the castle,
Many may sup at the cauldron’s rim
Yet valiant few wield a sword of deep knowing,
And fewer still dare to venture within.

Here is your gift, my beloved child,
The truth that joins Heaven and Earth, sacred ground –
Many talk, many think, many flirt with the Goddess,
Yet true Love knocks in silence
Head tethered,
Heart unbound.

this is not a test. repeat: this is not a test.

No matter where you are on your path, no matter whether you have a conscious awareness and understanding of the massive changes taking place right now within you, around, above and below you…

…the universe is afoot.

As the gentle and gifted bodymindspiritworker said to me yesterday as she midwifed me through my evolutionary imperative, “This is your 2012.”

What she meant was that, for me — and I’m guessing for some of you, as well, we are approaching or we are smack dab in the middle of what this multidimensional telepathic galactic truthteller (Eek! None of these labels means anything anymore!) terms “…the end of the end” (which is, of course, truly, the beginning of the beginning)…

and what this phenomenal Being of Light esoteric astrologer/spiritualist/guide (blah-blah-irrelevant descriptors) describes as humanity truly ending ‘the heresy of separateness.’

If you have given physical birth to another being, you know that labor pains are real. You know that you come to a point where it makes no difference what books you’ve read or what exercises you’ve practiced or classes you’ve attended: You absolutely must get out of the way, take your control-slurping mind with you, and allow Nature to take its course.

Same with now. And by now, I mean Today. I mean This Week. I mean This Now.

All you can really do is go with it. Let it go. Be stripped down to your most natural, primal, cellular self, and step into your place in the circle of evolution. Or, of course, you can choose to fight, to resist, to grasp with desperation, and to rip yourself to shreds in the process. The choice is always, incontrovertibly, unquestionably yours.

We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel here, folks. What’s your biggest, deepest, core issue? What’s the one area of your life that has never, ever, worked with joy and ease? What black hole of fear or doubt, of pain, of grief, of resentment continues to whirl you around and about in some sort of emotional or spiritual dirtdevil that shuts you down or whips you into a frenzy?

A friend of mine feels as though she is battling a lifelong storehouse of anger. Another acquaintance is being hit by a tsunami rooted in alienation, persecution, and judgment. Others are finally, finally, releasing age-old, false belief systems perpetuated by religion, government, and social institutions. For me, I have just ventured into cascading lifetimes of inconsolable grief and loss of family, lovers, and the very culture of my soul.

All of us are walking or lying about in a vague, altered reality. Tired yet unable to fully rest during our “busy” nights. Hungry yet unable to even be in the same room with foods we once loved. Clearing our closets of clothing that we cannot fathom wearing on our newly-reconstituted bodyforms or into our new lives.

Just last week, I gave the final NO! to a cantankerous, pushmepullyou relationship that went on (and off and on and…) for nearly 13 years. This was not a simple act of “breaking up with my boyfriend” — this was me picking up my sword and shield, stepping into my full warrior stance, beating back every nuance of unworthiness as it rose up in me in waves, and refusing to stand one more moment in a place where I was receiving so far less than I deserved. It felt like heart-to-heart combat as I whacked away tangled vines and thorny trees that I had deluded myself contained the blossoms of roses and lilies of Divine Love.

Is it any wonder that for the last five days, I have saturated my home and myself with music like “My Grief On The Sea” by Jennifer Cutting’s Ocean Orchestra? (If you like this music and the dulcet Celtic tones of Washington, DC-native Grace Griffith, go to Youtube to hear Cutting’s other offerings, especially If You Are Near, based on the classical aria by German composer Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel yet often mis-attributed to J.S. Bach.

Do what you can to nurture yourself during these turbulent days. Find someplace – anyplace – where you can disconnect from the insanity around you and connect with Nature’s glory. By any means possible, pare down your responsibilities for a time and focus on your needs. Cry. Laugh. Sleep. Soak. Walk. Run. Swim. Write. Create. It’s not the form that matters; it’s the energy of your truth, your light, and your way. Whatever that looks like; however you express it.

This is not a test. Repeat: This is not a test.

hallelujah, it’s just a lovely ride! two music videos to lift your spirit and fill your soul

For your viewing and listening pleasure, I’m bringing back two videos that you probably wouldn’t find unless you dug deep into the Be Whole Now archives.

Right here, K.D. Lang joins Heaven and Earth with this aching, haunting, off-the-charts version of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” Lang isn’t the leggy cowgirl she once was, but her barefoot performance is part spiritual warrior, part Zen monk, and all power.

And, singing what should surely be the anthem for higher consciousness/awakening, here is India Arie crooning James Taylor’s “The Secret O’ Life” in true elegantly casual diva fashion. The wisdom of the ages lives in every verse and she doesn’t miss a beat!

You deserve to give yourself a beautiful break today. Listen and enjoy!

allow yourself to be awakened, allow yourself to be found

Pallas Athene, by Gustav Klimt, 1898

To those who are lost,
Allow yourself to be found!
The map lay in your hand for eons
Your compass handily within reach –
And the wind blows gently at your back.

To those for whom the fog seems never to lift,
Allow yourself to be lifted!
Your inner strength spills over the causeway
Your deepest reserves scarce explored –
Hope attends you in grand measure and will not turn away.

To those who feel afraid,
Courage seeks your outstretched hand!
To those who have hidden your greatest gifts beneath the banyan tree
Fall to your knees and dig!
Creation aches to shower you with bejeweled goodness
If you would but open your eyes and see.

To those alone,
Know that lovers are looking for you
To the disenfranchised,
Freedom taps at your window
And justice now fervently calls your name!

It is time to answer.

To those harassed relentlessly by the darkness,
Rise up and rebuke all that aims to lead you away from your God!
Mercy still holds your heart in safekeeping
Joy endures, a patient and steady companion
Not one shard of the light has forsaken you.

To those asleep and benumbed,
Blink once, now twice!
To those held in abeyance, enchantment,
Allow yourself to be awakened with a strong and gentle kiss –
You may find a world safer than you imagine
And a You more brilliant than you have ever known.

the oft-elusive art of maintaining emotional honesty with kindness and compassion toward others

Confession: I now have zero tolerance for emotional dishonesty. Zip. Nada. None.

Because I work so tirelessly on my own personal evolution, I can scarcely be in the presence of others who slog on with disingenuous maneuvering, insincere manipulation, indiscriminate projection, plain old denial, or other garden-variety dysfunction.

This much I know: people-pleasing is passé. Saying one thing and doing another is not a hallmark of the shifting of the ages. Sugar-coating with nice words and smiley faces while you simmer with negativity or resentment is a prehistoric way of doing things that serves no one and contributes nothing to a paradigm trying its darnedest to emerge and take its place in the history of Creation.

Try though I may to summon up an interest in engagement, if someone is dancing an ungrounded-ambivalent-oh-well-whatever dance, I am left feeling akin to the way I might feel if I sauntered through a smallpox ward hugging and French-kissing everyone in sight.

Yet because I bear no ill will toward these folks — most of whom are basically well-meaning and inherently kind people — things get tricky. It’s not always appropriate to tell someone that her or his vibrational frequency is screechingly non-resonant with your own. (While often true, this approach is nonetheless prone to manifest as a vast failure to communicate.)

And even though part of my income derives from writing greeting cards, it’s hard to find the right words when my goal is to communicate, “Even the briefest interaction with you conjures up the sensation of discordant chalkboard symphonies, so for now, excuse me, I must flee. Have a great day!”

In a recent interaction with a longtime friend, I quietly spoke the words, “Being in the same room with you literally hurts my central nervous system.” Not surprising, the statement was less than well-received, though it was delivered in a spirit of honesty and communication.

I have only a few people in my circle who understand what I mean when I respond to an invitation or request by saying, “Hmm, I’m not really feeling inspired for that.” (More on “inspired action” in this previous post.) Conventional wisdom might suggest that I lie a bit and make up an excuse along the lines of, “I’ve got a podiatrist’s appointment that day” or some mutterings about hair-washing, sick animals, or non-specific health issues.

But dang it, when do we all start speaking our truths on a regular basis? I honor the person who says “Sorry, I won’t be able to help you out with that” — as opposed to the one who says “Yes” and then fails to follow through.

I deeply appreciate when others share that they’re in a place of challenge, that things aren’t really going all that well — not so I can contrive some type of rescue for them (a strategy that has also passed its expiration date) — but so that I can understand more about the context in which they exist.

I am genuinely thrilled when someone’s words are aligned with their actions; when they admit their disappointments, their confusion, their delight, their curiosity about who I am and why I do what I do. I know that verbal processing isn’t everyone’s default modus operandi, but even a little bit of honesty can travel a very long way.

Increasingly, I take a fiercely active role in creating and maintaining energetic environments that offer me a sense of peace and comfort. My personal worldview holds that I am fully within my rights to disconnect from surroundings that feel emotionally and/or energetically dangerous, toxic, violent, or totally caddywompus.

So, I do.

Each one of us is a work-in-progress: I’ve yet to meet an Ascended Master at the supermarket. The more we let down our guards and let someone else in, the more we recognize our similarities and move past our perceived differences.

How about if today we commit to stretching our boundaries of emotional honesty? I wish I could promise you that your attempts will be celebrated and understood by others, but there are no guarantees here. “Truthiness” (Thank you, Stephen Colbert!) is often valued more highly than its wiser, older, more grounded sister, Truth.

The more honesty that’s moving around the planet, the simpler things can be for us all.  That’s my truth. What’s yours?

what two guys from new jersey can teach you about ‘inspired action only’

I haven’t blogged in a bit for the same reason I haven’t written poetry. Or exchanged emails. Or trimmed up my dry, dusty yard.

I just wasn’t inspired. Nothing inside me said, “Do it.” So I didn’t.

Nothing said, “Look for a publisher and send out your novella already.”

No feelings rose up out of my belly suggesting that I get my hair cut or have the oil changed in my vehicle or reply to the three-page, handwritten letter a friend had sent me 10 days ago or so. (Sorry, RK.)

I was, however, greatly inspired to shelve donated books at a public library I’m creating in my tiny rural town; to help a generous volunteer build a deck and handicapped-accessible ramp in triple-digit, blistering heat; to hang out and read and color with kids at our historic, blossoming community building; and to help facilitate a visit by these two guys from New Jersey, who are walking across America to raise funds for The Gail’s Angels Foundation.

2 Guys from New Jersey Walking Toward the New Mexico/Colorado Border, photo by Tim Keller

Since I know what it’s like to respond to a call to undertake something inconvenient, impractical, and a bit outlandish, I was instantly inspired to support Anthony and Rob by coordinating lodging, meals, photos and interview, and personalized laundry service. Their actions are clearly inspired. One doesn’t casually decide to put one foot in front of the other for 3,000 miles if there’s not some deep wellspring at your core.

I can’t take credit for the three-word mantra Inspired Action Only. I got it from a friend, who got it from somewhere. Doesn’t matter: it’s too good for anyone to own.

Inspired action comes from inside and spreads through you like a warm, sweet, homebaked, apple pie. Inspired action feels good, excites you, makes you happy. It bubbles up from some authentic place within you, without the slightest tinge of guilt or obligation and absent any sense of “Oh, #&$^! I don’t want to do this, but I’ll force myself anyway.”

Inspired action doesn’t need to be earth-shattering, epiphanic, or miraculous. It can be a quiet “Yes.” It can be a gentle nudge that travels from your heart to your hand. It can be as simple as making a phone call, or as complex as tossing everything you believe, know, believe you know, or know that you believe, out the window and starting all over.

If you’re not feeling inspired, chances are you’re bogged down and clogged up with old patterns and false beliefs. Or, you’re holding tightly onto your same old-same old attitudes of resentment, resistance, hopelessness, and some sick need to click into a rote, mechanized version of life. Matrix, anyone?

Or, something may be physically askew. Either way, you’re out of alignment with the truth of your own being — and now just might be a wonderful time to straighten out as much of that as you can.

Don’t get me wrong. Inspired Action Only is neither an invitation nor a prescription to avoid taking care of business. Bills still get paid. People still get fed. Laundry still gets done. Why? For the simple reason that you want to. That it’s an appropriate action. That you’re in right relationship with the outward expression of your inward intention.

Strolling Across America, by Tim Keller

Try it out. “Inspired Action Only” is working great for me, and for the friend who shared this wise insight with me.

And whether they know it or not, it’s working for two guys walking from San Diego, California, to Nutley, New Jersey, pushing jogging strollers along a route that took them through a remote outpost in the American Southwest…

…and inspired us all with their commitment to a cause and their willingness to follow through with their true hearts’ desires.

That, my friends, is inspired action. Anything less just isn’t worth doing at all.

oh, wait: the universe is afoot with the promise of your evolution

A Venus at Her Mirror, by Diego Velazquez, 1644

please take a number
and commit to remaining in line until service is rendered.

allow yourself simply to wait,
maintain a measured distance from the impatience
that roils beside and beneath you
and know that your moment hangs imminent
with arrival

please relax every reflex that whiffs desperation
unclench your jaw
and for goodness sakes,
silence the incessant tiptapclickclack
of your tightly wound fingers and toes

if you have prepared yourself
to embrace a heretofore untold-of unfolding,
it is but a matter of time

if you have felt the loosening of
the consensual bounds of linear time,
then you know that time increasingly means nothing

and if you have sought deeply
to reconcile your every agreement
you just may be ready to decloak and step into the All

how much clearer can Creation be?
your personal invitation has been proffered in words meant only for your ears
in tones designed to find their way home via the corridors of your heart
in hues saffron and violet, indigo, cyan
a breeze of becoming breathes softly into the valleys of your open mouth
all this for no other reason than to awaken you to grandeur

what gain is there in sleeping on?
that which you cling to offers you naught of substance
and but scant nourishment for your hungering soul
yet you turn away from the knock at your door

resistant to a fault, you will not take a step off the sinking ship,
already it has taken on enough water to take it down–
the deck chairs will not rearrange themselves
to hasten your rescue.

within your walls of errant hesitation
rests a slumbering seedpearl aching with an irrepressible urge to blossom
how much longer will you deny its place in the sun?

you have been given wings to fly,
an insatiable imperative to grow –
evolution continues with or without you!
why not climb aboard and enjoy the ride
minus the crutch of destination?

mirrors have been placed at every intersection
do not avert your gaze

not one other receives the reflection that is you

really, can we ever have too much forgiveness?

I just finished preparing a package of five poems that I’m sending off to a Poetry Competition, including Prayer for Radical Forgiveness, which first appeared here back in September 2008. Also, just between you and me and the lamppost (well, that phrase probably just carbon-dated me!), I am more than ready to share my life with my perfect complement, and this piece is powerful stuff for clearing up loose ends from the past. (BTW, don’t get too wound up trying to analyze my choice of the famous painting depicting the tragic Ophelia “in an attitude of deranged abandon.”)

Ophelia, by John William Waterhouse, 1889

Prayer for Radical Forgiveness

Forgive me for not sharing fully in your pain
for my own basket has been filled with seedpods of blossoming sadness
and ripened fruit dripping with disappointment

Forgive me if I do not remember your name
or the light aching for release from your crown
for I have been searching too long simply to remember my own name
and the codex that bears the story that is mine

If I have seemed aloof, apart,
forgive me,
for my sense of alienation has weighed heavy for eons,
littering interior byways of true connection
despite my unfettered yearnings for authenticity

Forgive me for random bouts of arrogance
for detours short and long that led me away
from unbridled compassion
for untold moments in which my own inner brilliance blinded me
and left me seemingly no choice but to return to refuge,
for brief inbursts of hesitation that kept my heart in check
while a calcified mind carried the reins in its tightened grasp,
forgive me

For sequestering myself
in the face of emergent tenderness,
forgive me
For pushing away your outstretched hands
in the name of independence,
forgive me
for clouding love with judgment spoken or believed
for not peering deeply enough into your frantic eyes
or listening to the muffled mewings beneath your angry words,
for clinging fearfully to the riverbanks
and forgetting to let go and be carried by bands of angels,
forgive me

For giving to others the care and nurturance I could not muster to give myself
for giving my power away to darkness within and without
for giving undue honoring and withholding true reverence
in the face of fear or interference
for giving excuses and rationalizations time and again,
for giving up moments before everything was given to me,
for choosing fear over love
confusion over clarity
conversation over contemplation
noise over stillness
illusion over truth

For this and more
for every morsel
for the sake of The All
forgive me