Caramel Pain

The silent pains of the body
never prepare their menus
but serve raw meat uncharted.
Caramel burned points of grief
get stuck between bones,
sticky sweet sickening drones.
Chants of discus plates chip fresh
green grass, leaving bare
earth bleeding.

Glittering Commentari 15, Ron

It’s been awhile since I posted a Glittering Commentari. But Ron of Wondering Soul presented me with this concise and simple description of the relationship between doing and being, which was the subject of the post. I can’t imagine it being put more clearly.

If I may simply amplify what has already been said…my ideal is to let my doing be informed by being, that is, all doing comes, whether consciously or not, from being. One of the main difficulties is maintaining awareness in this present moment of now, of source (of being) whatever one chooses to call it, God, Goddess, Gaia, Spirit or whatever. As Neale Donald Walsche put it in ‘Conversations with God’; “remember who you really are and be that!” St. Paul said to “walk in the Spirit” (who you really are) and the doing will naturally arise from that state of consciousness.

Please visit his site. You’ll come away feeling lighter in spirit.

Night Flower

Night Blooming Cirrus Flower

The pale cirrus flower glows by night
under a platinum moon. It shines
as my sleepless sighs exhale anguished air
across its feathered wings, fluttering
grief over the evaporated dream of your love.
Briefly, the ghostly bloom grows a follicle
filled with fresh pomegranate juice,
whose ripe, succulent, mouthwatering
kisses fade in dawn’s cool light.

abstraction, doing vs. being

fish in pond, Hocking Hills, OhioThe man who created personalities created a multifaceted self. He was a molish kind of man. At least that’s who he saw himself as at the moment. To others he was many things. Musician. Artist. Cook, Lover, Artist, Musician, Husband, Gardener, Egoist, Queen, queen, bottom, top, philosopher, poet, arrogant, self-absorbed, insecure, jerk, stupid, lazy bum, but always with that ever morphing idea of Self.

And the “instrument” one needs to learn in order to play out the natural grace of living is the body. Grace leads us to our core, the vibrant entity of our bodily existence.

There are two types of animals inside each of us. They are constantly in a fight for our personalities, one could say our souls.

One is greedy, malicious, selfish, lazy, hateful, bitter and leads to a living kind of hell, a numbness which says nothing about your life, or only that you missed the boat. This part never questions why, but just does, in order to get something: power, money, control, revenge. It runs ever faster to escape listening to its heart.

The other is loving, giving, modest, polite, nonjudgmental, honest, grateful, and leads to a graceful peace who’s value is never in question. This part knows that we can never really know why we are here, but also knows that the heart’s quiet voice nonetheless gives a simple answer: love and let love.

The outcome of the battle depends on which one you feed.

Sometimes I feel twisted, writhing with doubts, questioning my faults. Anyone who questions themselves will find faults. But living with grace allows us to notice and smile and be as modest about our weakness as we are our strengths.

According to my massage therapist, we are human beings, not human doings. I liked that idea. Just be.