March 14, 2011

How to See


creepy leafies


I went for a walk this morning. The sky was overcast, and I saw inky grey-blue clouds rolling in as the wind began to howl and moan. A lone dove overhead cooed a mournful, gentle song. The landscape looked dimmer than usual, but there was the silvery sun, peeking through clouds and casting a glow that caught in the tangles of new bright green leafy buds on skinny little white branches, silhouetted against the deep evergreens. It was beautiful. I stood in front of the pond behind my neighborhood, rooted to the spot. I didn't ever want to leave.


I've been thinking about Love, and all it's supposed forms. There is supposedly pure and impure versions of it; some bright and clean, some adulturated. But I'm trying to see just one Love.


Cynthia Bourgeault is an evil genius and/or a saint. I enjoy reading her books and Rami Shapiro's for the same reason: a unitive view of the world. Seeing with a "single" eye; seeing the interconnectedness of all things. Seeing only One.

I'm quite fixated on a concept of hers I read recently: that there is not "Eros" and "Agape" Love; rather, the two are the raw and refined versions of the same force. Eros, the driving, romantic desire for another, can be refined in the fires of kenosis - that state of continuous pouring-out, or letting-be, that accepts all things and clings to nothing - and when it has been filtered, and loses the particular drive to possess or dominate the object of it's Love, and instead desires only that the object become Who he/she truly is, then it has become Agape. It becomes wind; it uplifts. It becomes light; it illuminates.

I want this for you. I lost myself and saw only your soul.


February 26, 2011

I want Poetry and I want it Now




I thought I had it all figured out
I thought I had it right, now
even if my direction was a spiral into the very heart of the earth

But time does rob and give back to me
all I never thought I'd see
I'm stumbling, reminded of your heavy worth

And you must be part of my Arm
pulling me gently with cords to harder ways
to what's right

When I don't want to hear it
when all I seek is dissipation, not participation
but I am forced to anyway


Because my broken heart pulls me
stretching, incubating Love's lost reasons

Change occurs daily
but you look the same as me
You dance away into the light


What should I play tonight?


- - - - - 6.12.2010

February 1, 2011

My body is not a cage; it's a castle.

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this delightful foto by the great Steven Bernstein


G-d doesn't just love your sparkly, shiny, inspiring Soul. He Loves every part, right down to the very shitty bits of your being.


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Part I: Waxing Poetic

The breath/Spirit* of G-d carries Love into my being, but I must unfold all the dinginess and damp; crevices that have yet to see the Sun in a lifetime - and let Love permeate and work all through every part. Thankfulness can help break the wall down and let it all through.

Eventually, somehow, I suppose manure is converted to diamonds... er, heavenly alchemy.

But not by force or manipulation... only by pure, perfect, complete Acceptance. And that is the gift of our Source: G-d. Who began a good work in us, and will see it through...


*(in Hebrew & Greek they're the same word)

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Part II: Ouch, my leg.

I dreamed I cut off all my hair and dyed it a hideous orange color (my first thought was "not again!?!?!" which is certainly strange in itself, but it gets worse, much worse...) I looked down at my legs with the same nonchalance and tried to cut them off too! Good Grief! There is some sort of egregious miscommunication going on between me, myself and I.

The Teshuva (repentance/turning/rethinkingeverythingongodsgreenearth) I've been engaged in lately, while in some ways a return to the True self that dwells with G-d, has been unwisely paired on my part with an intent to detach from all physicality. DAMMIT!! No!! Not again!!!

Red. Red is the color of Courage, and the Root Chakra, and blood, and the life force of all creatures, and forward momentum, and heat, and Love and vigor!

And G-d saw all that he had made, and behold! It was very good! (Genesis 1:31

But still, I do not have courage! Courage to follow the lead of my Father in Heaven and EMBRACE all of me!!! - For the Love of G-d and all that is holy!!!!! Blargh!!!


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Part III: Brave Hearts

I love going to visit the Alamo. I feel the holiness of the place in a tangible way; so many could not have given their lives so bravely for what they believed was right without making a permanent cosmic dent in the area. I look at the unadulturated work of art that was erected in their memory, and I sing a song I wrote in their honour:

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Brave hearts, into the sun
hold your flags higher and higher

They can kill our bodies but they can't
kill our souls

They can kill our bodies but they can't
kill our Hope


I wish I had the Courage to stand my ground like they did. Agh! Courage! I'm obsessed with the term. I've always been a bit lily-livered, to tell the truth - a bit waffly, rather yellow 'round the edges and prone to parting with my ideals when I think someone will take umbrage at them. I don't want to spend my life in retreat. I want to stand, and after I have done all I can... to stand!

January 4, 2011

To Let It All Through

"please... can't we just stay like this, forever?"

"a moment can last forever."

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Depth Perception, 2010, דבורה


You've always been a better friend
than I could manage to pretend

Trees bear strange and foreign fruit
but meet each other at the root

Can you hear this fleeting fear?
I put my heart up to your ear

Just sing and dance and laugh, lover
it don't take so much to recover

Oh, hear me now
I... I just don't know how
Oh, to let it through
but I... I am waking up to you


"In moments of mystical illumination, we may experience, in a few chronological seconds, years of transfigured love." -Madeleine L'Engle

January 1, 2011