Clearing in the Forest

This is what I believe:

That I am I.

That my soul is a dark forest.

That my known self will never be more

than a little clearing in the forest.

That gods, strange gods, come forth

into the clearing of my known self

and then go back.

That I must have the courage to let

them come and go.

That I will never let mankind put anything

over me, but that I will try always to recognize

and submit to the gods in me and the gods

in other men and women.

STUDIES IN CLASSIC AMERICAN LITERATURE

D. H. Lawrence

There is something about this poem that truly speaks to me.  It resonates within me with every reading and stirs my inner 'knowings' with certainty. 

In the past, I have always used the word 'veil' to describe  unexpected moments seen with precise clarity.  The veil is pulled to the side and spiritual vision comes into focus bringing understanding to elements of life otherwise indescribable.  The moment passes and the veil slides elegantly back into place leaving the viewer at a loss for explanation.  There are no words in our language to explain what the eyes have seen and the heart has heard.

The unexpected moments of 'knowing', I believe, are the same as the 'strange gods' mentioned in this piece.  Spiritual intelligence or whatever term comfortably used, nudges us into an awareness so we can receive insight, encouragement, and rekindled faith. 

The unfortunate part is the brevity of the experience.  It is never lengthy as a vision might be or as detailed as a dream.  It is simply a pocket in time where an other worldly impression is made with all senses responding and miraculously understanding. 

The experience passes as quickly as it arrives.  In the passing instant the entire universe has been opened to detailed comprehension, but only leaving a vague memory. 

Is Divine Spirit really... out there ... or does this supreme power also reside within each human being?  If this deity could be seen deep inside each of us, would be quite so eager to kill and destroy or would integrity and diversity prevail.

I believe my life is more peaceful when I listen with my compassionate heart, respecting the spirits within me as well as the strange gods residing in others. 

.

If We But Listen ...

The only way to get what you really want is

to know what you really want.

The only way to know what you really want

is to know yourself.

The only way to know yourself is to be yourself.

And the only way to be yourself

is to listen to your heart.

I do, 

The Universe

www.tut.com

Life is a process requiring observation, contemplation, and integration.  Unfortunately, there is not a simple switch on the back of our heads to be switched on and off.  

We must come to understand: 

why we do what we do, why we say what we say, and why we stay small....

what stories we tell ourselves to keep our truth at bay...

how frequently we allow the judgment of others to over ride

what we hold dear in our hearts...

where we feel most safe and how often we visit ...

when we start celebrating our uniqueness we stop 

criticizing our differences ... 

Create a place of silence and experience solitude.  It is in this very space that our hearts begin to speak if we but listen.

One Step At A Time

“Look around you. Everything changes. Everything on this earth is in a continuous state of evolving, refining, improving, adapting, enhancing…changing. You were not put on this earth to remain stagnant.” 

~Steve Maraboli

Life, the Truth, and Being Free

Even though we are tempted to rush up the stairs, taking several steps in one big stretch or to simply sit on the bottom step fearful of moving, we evolve more fluently by going slowly ... one step at a time.

Our subconscious minds or soul if you wish, tends to know a plan prior to our physical and mental realization.  Perhaps it starts with a longing or a discontent even though we have no thoughts of change.  We may tell ourselves we should be content with what we have and it might be selfish to look for more.

There is a visualization of a person having one foot firmly placed on the ground with the other foot sticking straight out without any substance under it.  We often times find ourselves not wanting to leave and not knowing where it is we want to go.  We can become agitated by conflict and fear.

Self-definition evolves through out our lives or else we become stagnant.  While exploring new options, we do not have to sever old relationships.  Friends and family ties may have to be arranged just a little bit differently, but not given up entirely.  Just as we do not obliterate older parts of ourselves, we adjust, redefine, and integrate the old with the new.  

There is so much to be learned that if we run up all of the steps at once, we miss important layering that will keep our foundation strong.  The journey, after all, is to be enjoyed one step at a time.  

This process at times may feel selfish, but really it is a way of protecting our selves while climbing the stairs.  If we repeatedly step to the side to let others by, allowing their passage to be priority over our own, then who is really the selfish one?  Why is someone else's wishes less selfish than your own?

To trust in ourselves, we must know ourselves ... intentions, motivations, guidance.  We must be patient while conflict unravels as we continue to step through our fears.  

Come to the edge, he said.

They said:  We are afraid.

Come to the edge, he said.

They came.

He pushed them ... and they flew.

Guillaume Apollinaire

ON FOOT I HAD TO WALK THROUGH THE SOLAR SYSTEMS by Edith Sodergran

ON FOOT I HAD TO WALK

THROUGH THE SOLAR SYSTEMS

Edith Sodergran

On foot

I had to walk through the solar systems,

before I found the first thread of my red dress.

Already, I sense myself.

Somewhere in space hangs my heart,

sparks fly from it, shaking the air,

to other reckless hearts.

~Translated by Stina Katchadourian

Surely every female has had a red dress.  There is something about a red dress that radiates confidence and a strong sense of self.  Then throw in a pair of killer heels and the right jewelry and "WHAM"! It is a night to remember.

My red chiffon dress was purchased for a military ball when I was a senior in high school.  My friend came over and applied make up to my face for the first time ever. (I don't think my parents were home to censor the extreme make over!) She brought a pair of her dressy heels for me to wear which weren't quite the right size, but they looked great.  

My date was prompt in picking me up and we safely arrived at the scene of the ball.  We walked up several flights of stairs to store our coats, and then each couple lined back down the stair case, waiting for their names to be announced while eager adults looked on.  

The couple in front of us seemed very nice.  As the young man's date turned back to say something to me, she lost her footing.  I leaned forward to steady her, as she pulled me forward ... I fell.  It wasn't pretty.

In the process of falling, my shoe fell off and my twisted ankle promptly doubled in size.  There was no way I could put the shoe back on.  I started to cry and being inexperienced with the make up world, smeared mascara and powder all over my face.  Everyone was staring at me and my poor date (who never talked to me or asked me out again) was totally humiliated.  He helped me limp down the stairs and dumped me in the first chair he could find. I didn't see him again until the dance was nearly over.  

And as this poem reflects I have had to journey a long way before I grasped the thread of my red dress and gathered a sense of me.  Ditching the fancy clothes and removing my mask as well, I felt my heart hanging free in space, sparking where other hearts didn't dare.  In the end, it was okay to be just me. 

IT'S POSSIBLE by Antonio Machado

IT'S POSSIBLE

Antonio Machado

It's possible that while sleeping the hand 

that sows the seeds of stars

started the ancient music going again

~like a note from a great harp~

and the frail wave came to our lips

as one or two honest words.

-Translated by Robert Bly

There is a movie entitled, PASSION OF THE HEART and it is one of my most favorite films.  It is about a woman who seeks out a therapist to help her separate between her living time and her dreaming time.  Both night time and day time are detailed realities and she has grown unconvinced that either is a dream.

In the one reality, she is living in France with her two young daughters.   They reside in a lovely old home in the sprawling countryside.  The three lazily wander to the market buying cheese and bread and enjoy every day together.   She is a writer and lives a tranquil life.

In the other reality, she is living a fast paced professional life in New York City.   She is a very stylish and successful woman selecting authors, books, and editors.  It is these scenes the audience tends to believe are dreams.

As the movie unfolds, the viewer gets pulled into the drama and soon begins to speculate which reality is true.  In the event this movie intrigues you, I will not carry the plot any further along.

The movie prompts one to speculate upon all of the time we spend sleeping.  Do we really just rest our bodies while bodily functions and complicated organs run their coarse?  Are we merely resting physically while our minds run away with our imaginations?  

As one embraces varying spiritual beliefs, a great deal of thought can be spent speculating about 'dream time' and all it may really be.  As science continues to unveil the complexities of the universe, more questions challenge our original belief systems.  

For centuries information received during 'dream time' has been documented ... premonitions, inventions, mathematical equations, inspiration, musical masterpieces, and artistic designs to mention only a few.   Who knows, maybe 'dream time' is just one big think tank! 

Deep Longings

The secret longings of a learned man

Are more mysterious than the fabled Phoenix;

Within the oyster grows a hidden pearl

From the deep longings of the boundless sea.

Omar Khayyam

Translated by Ali Dashti

In childhood, our world dances with magic.  All things take on a persona and our imaginings create an adventurous world.  We bound out of bed in the morning ready to face the day and collapse into bed at night having spent every ounce of energy.  There is a lust for life in every moment and an eagerness for the flight into fantasy during our sleeping hours.

Where does this excitement go?  At what point is it drained out of us or get buried so deeply that we forget it is even there?  

As childhood passes, we may find a composition book to jot down our wisps of wonderment, but it ends up tucked away to be discovered in our later years.  Our focus shifts away from nature and the connections with rocks discovered in mud, water dripping from a hose, and racing in the blowing winds.  Gone are the games of cops and robbers, hop scotch, jacks, jump rope and trading cards or marbles.  

No longer children, our minds turn to more serious things like girls, sports, and boys.  We find fascination with more worldly things and struggle to remain who we really are.  We define ourselves by the unspoken rules of fitting in, and let important segments drop away.  

I vividly remember a friend who was so gifted in painting, and desired a life long career in artistic expression, but his parents forbid him to study art in college as 'it was a waste of time and he would never make enough money".  It was as though a light was snuffed out inside of him.  His disposition shifted and so much of how he identified himself simply fell away.

Years later, I ran into him at an artists fair smiling from ear to ear. His retirement offered him time to brush up on  his skills and he found himself back into an artist's studio.  His small following encouraged him to continue forward and he never looked better.

Do we bury our intuition, artistic expression, and magical moments in order to live what others term a 'normal' life?  Then do we unpack all that is buried within once we are older and no longer care about other's expectations?  Do we finally unearth what we knew all along as a child?

Senior Citizens are no longer categorized as tottering old fools.  From the age of 55 and up, this population is using retirement to express deep longings, recapture passions, and make significant contributions to world communities and local neighborhoods.  It is not unusual to learn that a sixty year old friend is 'finally' taking piano or dance lessons, or writing their memoirs, or volunteering to enhance the lives of others.  


Perhaps we can all rekindle artistic expression in our personal lives.  Whether it is cooking, gardening, or saving the world, let our light shine! Shine so brightly that the young can maintain their light throughout their lives, uninterrupted.

   

IT WAS BEAUTIFUL ONE NIGHT, Hafiz

IT WAS BEAUTIFUL ONE NIGHT

Hafiz

It was beautiful, it was so beautiful one night

we all began to expect God would speak

from the waves, reaching toward the millet

fields,

from the mouths of the hanging sky

ornaments crooning in light's infinite codes,

from the glances of children and plants

and hills playing with effulgent life.

It was beautiful, it was so beautiful one night

we all began to expect God to speak.

A Year With Hafiz

Daniel Ladinsky

A Child's World, e.e.cummings

A Child's World

e. e. cummings

maggie and milly and molly and may

went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang

so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles, and

milly befriended a stranded star

whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing

which raced sideways while blowing bubbles and

may came home with a smooth round stone

as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

it's always ourselves we find in the sea.

There is something about the line, "as small as a world and as large as alone" that lingers in my mind.  As large as the world actually is, there are often times it personally feels quite small ... too small.  The world 'large' is really quite common and yet I have never heard it compared to 'alone' ... but it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? 

HOLY SPIRIT by Hildegard of Bingen

HOLY SPIRIT

Hildegard of Bingen

Holy Spirit,

giving life to all life,

moving all creatures,

root of all things,

washing them clean,

wiping out their mistakes,

healing their wounds,

you are our true life,

luminous, wonderful,

awakening the heart

from its ancient sleep.

~Translated by Stephen Mitchell

Hilegard Von Bingen (1098 - 1179) was a German writer, composer and healer referred to as a Medieval prophet.  As a child, she experienced visions and as a visionary mystic, she lived in a cloistered Benedictine facility and later founded a convent.  She is also known as "Sibyl of the Rhine".  In Europe, she was sought out for her prophecies, and was the 1st Woman Composer in the Western Tradition.  Her music is still listened to today.

To Have Never Tried ...

Many of us are afraid to follow our passion,

to pursue what we want most because 

it means taking risks

and even facing failure.

But to pursue your passion

with all your heart and soul

is success in itself.

The greatest failure is to have

never tried.

Robyn Allen

Many years ago, I was the director of a preschool program.  Through time and brief exchanges, I became friendly with the mother of one of my little students.  She was an accomplished artist who reflected a passion for her work.  

I happened to mention this artist to a friend of mine who was an art teacher at the local high school.  Much to my surprise, my friend knew this artist.  So we put our three heads together and organized a play day for our children while we could work with some form of art.

This alliance stayed strong for quite some time offering us stronger bonds of friendship, laughter, and artistic expression.  Out of the three of us, I was the plagiarizer!

They knew what they were doing having had years of education and experience while I was a novice.  I was very thankful for the opportunity to experiment.

We all have a passion that needs to be expressed and by choosing to do so brings us closer to our spiritual connection.   This passion begins to be processed through our unique abilities and blends with Divinity.  

I refer to this experience as "being in the flow".  One becomes so absorbed in processing the passion everything becomes limitless.  

Whether it is through the written word, painting, articulating, or physical movement, our passion blends with our body, mind, and spirit. The end result is about feeling fulfilled not about equivalence to success.  The lingering sensation is experienced as oneness with all things.

Tremendously More True, HAFIZ

TREMENDOUSLY MORE TRUE

She had a dream that told her she was going to pass from this world.

And on the day before, she still felt well, but believed these were her last hours, and come morning friends would be looking at her as she lay still no longer breathing.

She went into her garden as she as she always had before dark and spoke to the plants as she would.

Never more beautiful did the world look, never more a part of everything she now knew she was.

An assurance, some absolute certainty opened up in her and she knew any mortal identifications one could have were such a small part of something tremendously more true ... that awaited our knowing.

Her whole life she saw was like a slipper, often too tight, she had worn for a long day, and did not now mind at all taking it off.

She lay down that night, then merged into a brilliant Sky----

someone could call God, she found her soul had always, had always been holding in its hand.

A YEAR WITH HAFIZ

Daniel Ladinsky

DUST by Dorianne Laux

DUST

Dorianne Laux

Someone spoke to me last night,

told me the truth.  Just a few words,

but I recognized it.

I knew I should make myself get up,

write it down, but it was late,

and I was exhausted from working

all day in the garden, moving rocks.

Now, I remember only the flavor ~

not like food, sweet or sharp.

More like a fine powder, like dust.

And I wasn't elated or frightened,

but simply rapt, aware.

That's how it is sometimes ~

God comes to your window,

all bright light and black wings,

and you're just too tired to open it.

Edited by Roger Housden

Throughout history, men and women have been receiving nocturnal artistic expressions and insights.  It can be a voice, an image, or a sound that prompts the growth of seedlings, if we but remember to water the soil.

Upon awakening, the memory floats closely by, but by the time we brush our teeth, only fragments remain.  Try as hard as we will, the connecting dots elude us.

We all experience times when we are busily about our day when someone mentions the smallest thing and it triggers the vague memory of something we had just dreamed that very morning.  Slowly, bits and pieces return to our memory.

Today we are offered texting, tweeting, face booking, emailing, and long distance calling.  For me, the night time communication laced within our dreams is my favorite form of all.   

SWEET DARKNESS by David Whyte

SWEET DARKNESS

David Whyte

When your eyes are tired

the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone

no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark

where the night has eyes

to recognize its own.

There you can be sure

you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb

tonight.

The night will give you a horizon

further than you can see.

You must learn one thing.

The world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds

except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet

confinement of your aloneness

to learn

anything or anyone

that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

~From The House of Belonging

THE WORLD AS I SEE IT, Albert Einstein

It is clear that all the valuable things, material, spiritual, and moral, which we receive from society can be traced back through countless generations to certain creative individuals.  The use of fire, the cultivation of edible plants, the steam engine ~ each was discovered by one man.


Only the individual can think, and thereby create new values for society ~ nay, even set up new moral standards to which the life of the community conforms.  Without creative, independently thinking and judging personalities the upward development of society is as unthinkable as the development of the individual personality without the nourishing soil of the community.

THE WORLD AS I SEE IT

Albert Einstein

We are led to believe that as an individual we cannot make a difference, but that is untrue.  If we focus on the goodness of each individual ... inventions, scientific equations, discoveries ... we find acts of kindness more rampant that acts of violence.  Acts of kindness simply are not news worthy.

We are all capable of extraordinary contributions if we but render the courage to be who we are and share what we have to offer.  Whether the gesture is to kneel in helping a child or sending space shuttles up into the sky, we are all called to bring forth our gifts to this time and space.

We must not wait for others to shoulder the load.  If each of us carries a small portion of the weight, the movement forward can be shared by all.

One of my favorite quotes, "Be the change you want to see," encourages us to look inward for unique ways we can contribute to this world.  Instead of criticizing others, use that energy to be creative in some alternate way.  Life is not a competition, but a time to respect and honor our personal strengths as well as the work of others.  We must nurture and nourish each other.

We need not wait until we have an earth shattering discovery.  Be eager to experience the insights of every moment and act upon them.  Whether through writing, painting, singing, or helping others, every positive actions moves the community forward.  

Waking Eyes ...

NIGHT

The sun descending in the west,

The evening star does shine;

The birds are silent in their nest,

And I must seek for mine.

The moon, like a flower,

In heaven's high bower,

With silent delight

Sits and smiles on the night.

William Blake

Many times I have been blessed while viewing the setting sun.  Whether from the island of St. Thomas or a lounge chair on the back deck, the view of the descending sun can become an awestruck moment.

Darkness paints the sky as the sun slips down into the horizon, and a star begins to twinkle in the sky.  The moon seemingly faded strikes a contrast with the blackened sky.  

As all falls quiet, instead of feeling like the ending, a sense of beginning surrounds me.  Another day has ended, but there is promise of experiences all brand new, just waiting for my waking eyes.

Who Am I

      

Someone's spirit, however, has no name;  it is pure truth and inhabits a particular body for a certain period of time, and will, one day, leave it.  ...  The great mystics changed their names, and sometimes abandoned them altogether.  When John the Baptist was asked who he was, he said only: "I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness."  ... When Moses asked God his name, back came the reply:  "I am who I am."  

THE WINNER STANDS ALONE by Paulo Coelho

Paulo Coelho is one of the most widely read authors in the world and was named a United Nations Messenger of Peace in 2007.  I have read all of his books and I have my definite favorites.  He is widely known for his book entitled, THE ALCHEMIST.   If you have not read it, please do, as it is a classic.

"For that is the essence of life:  the ability to love, not the name we carry around on our passport, business card, and identity card," states Mr. Coelho.  And yet one of the first things we learn is our name.  Many of us are born with very lengthy family names or named after historical figures.  We abbreviate our given names in our youth and acquire 'nick names' as we navigate through education. In our careers, we work towards titles or letters to be added behind our names.  We marry and change our names or for whatever reason take on entirely different identities.  Even God has endless names...Yahweh, Divine Spirit, Allah, Creator, Father, Jehovah, King of Kings, etc... and yet God replies to Moses "I am who I am."

After all the naming is said and done, we still may have no sense of who we really are.  As Paulo Coelho says, the essence of life is not about a name.  

Once I attended a party and very few people knew each other.  As an 'ice breaker'  the host created a game that  disallowed anyone to say who they were.  Each person was required to respond with information about himself or herself while engaged in conversation, but could not reveal an occupation or current business association.  

We learned a lot about ourselves as we struggled to represent our life without our socially acceptable portrait.  The experience was awkward, soul searching, and at times quite humorous, but the essence of our life was more forthcoming than normal.

I believe it is imperative to frequently ask one self:

What is the essence of my life?

Who am I ?

No, really.

Who am I?