Category Archives: Spirituality

Links to Spirit. Tools to live and love by.

Airmail Love

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vaca-en-we

Sometimes before sleep late at night, I lie in bed
listening to my cats purr as they lick themselves clean
before curling up in a furball as close as possible to me.
I hear the distant roar of the highway, thousands
of cars swishing in a hurry to get somewhere,
perhaps the moon. Maybe they are lonely,
and sad love follows them as fast as they can drive.
Or maybe they’re rushing for an emergency,
a serious accident, or worse. Or maybe they were
working late, and long to get home
to a warm bed, and peace, if nothing else.
I think of my friends all over the world,
living lives with direction, going forward, or not,
friends past, whom I’ve lost touch with,
friends present but distant, thousands of miles away.
I think of all the sad or happy or tragic people
spinning around the planet as it spins across time,
laughing, crying, or lonely, dying,
or perhaps wondering and grateful, as I am.
And I think of you, with your quiet burning
of life with it’s myriad questions.
And I send you a little message. I open my heart
and give you my nurturing thoughts, my hope, my love.
I wish you well, I wish you peace.
By sending an airmail full of good wishes,
I feel lighter as I prepare for sleep under
a fluffy down comforter and two warm furballs.

Digiart by Veach. I think they’re pretty cool. I hope you do too. If you want to see the original piece, click on the image and there you are.

Infinity

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Infinity

A word
with eight letters
which points
in all directions
at all times,
a zillion rubber arrows
traveling out from me
forming a sphere
of unfettered completeness.

There’s comfort
in it’s cold consistency
of Always, Forever and Everywhere;
where tomorrow
and a billion yesterdays
are still and always original,
where toast popping up
warm and crusty brown,
calling for butter
to melt into into it’s textures,
is always there
waiting to be eaten.

And time
does not pass
through an hourglass
but spins
back into itself
like a huge, pink gyroscope
floating in my heart,
telling me
I’ll never be dead
only scattered.

This empty moment
as I stare out the window,
is neither here nor there,
is full of every molecule
in history, is
a fresh Fudgesicle
which never melts,
which tastes like
orange jello
or caramel pudding
or any flavor I imagine.

When I feel infinite
I expand like a red balloon
to engulf my mother’s
birth and death
my grandpa’s pain
my sister’s spinning
clutch of daily strain.
I cover them all
with endless adoration
even though I may never
see them again.

My fear sits
in my body
but I fear it not,
for it is a tender baby
to be caressed
and held lightly aloft
by my big, bulging
garnet jello heart.

I flow into my seat
and ride in my jello car
around mountains which
melt in a few billion years.
I slip down glaciers
a mile every century
and crawl up on muddy
banks with amphibian feet.
I fly over seas which boil
and then cool to salty abysses.
I breath through tree leaves
and drip sap to the forest
floor, where I compost
and form the carbon
jewel sold at the diamond store.
I ride up through the atmosphere
on a thought full of helium
and burn in a second
before visiting Luna
as a magnificent crater
is bursted open
by a star chip flying in
from infinite space.
I rage from the magma
bold belches of earth,
over the molten
eras which brew at her core.

Lime yellow jello time
wiggles around
me, in my ears
and nose, tickly
movements back
and forth, always
here and there
and never far
from Andromeda
or the Pleiades
Sisters seven stars.

When I return to my seat
in front of this screen,
the sun’s long shadows
have tuned evening’s chord
down a notch to a purple melody.

I smile an infinite smile
and no one knows who I am
but they do know, they do!
If they could just see what I can.

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The Perfect Chair

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What is your perfect chair? Does life end in a “Lazi-Boy”?

When we think of a chair, we have a mental image of what it is. For most people it’s a four legged object with a flat seat and a back on it. In my mind, I see a chair of wood, the ubiquitous kind of my childhood forays through my father’s State Department government office. It was sturdy, handsome, fairly comfortable, and of minimal design. Any other chair could be seen as a variation on that theme. It’s no wonder it was so popular. Such a pure balance of many qualities is rare.

chair

But it’s not a platonic ideal of a chair. That chair doesn’t exist. My father’s economical office chair may come close, but the true ideal is only in the mind. This is a good thing. If an ideal could be real, we’d have no reason to live, no reason to strive, no reason to create, no reason to learn. We’d just bask in the perfection we’d created for all time.

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Daemons

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This post will also be Glittering Commentari 10, Waiter Rant. Speaking of ranting. I’ve decided most bloggers just don’t feel like sifting through their gold mine of comments to submit to the Commentari list, so I’ll do it.

From Waiter Rant, these comments appeared, among 200 some, after a post called Legion. It took me awhile to sift through them. There are dozens of quote worthy ones, but these had some reverberation on their own. Enjoy. (some were anonymous, with no link to a blog, or only an email address)

Faber

In the ecology of spirit, just as in the ecology of matter, one eventually discovers that one cannot simply throw something away. The corollary is that, with regard to both matter and spirit, there is no such thing as junk.

Bamecca

My favorite quote from God is from in the Garden of Eden after Adam and Eve were hiding from Him and he say “Who told you, you were naked?” A lot of times we don’t realize how badly we are confining ourselves because of the demons (literal or figurative) that we listen to.

God’s sense of what is important and not is always amazing to me – because who told me that rich was better, who told me that I am more important than the bum on the street, who told me that I am not worth of love? It wasn’t God – because as you said God thinks that I am everything.

Jendobre

I used to think that religion was a load of bullocks. But sitting in a service today (friends of mine were singing) I realized that it was the opposite. It was a massive cry of hope from the human race! Religion is our way of saying “there’s no way life is just a sparkle in some organic cells which then shuts down into total darkness a couple of decades later”. We do not want to believe that there’s no-one who can hear us when alone, or that there’s no fate and stuff will keep piling up. I’m not too good to express my opinion but I think that’s pretty much it! I thought it was so beautiful…

Ginamonster

That the world is round, and therefore we are all going in circles, which makes everything “around the bend” and, the best way to find what you are looking for is to spiral out from a starting point and circle about in ever widening circles. traveling in circles does not mean you are staying in one place or chasing your own tail.

Big Sky Country

As someone who does have that unconditional love, I can tell you that those demons don’t disappear, they just morph into something else, namely, how am I going to screw it up and lose the thing that I love the most? Most days I’m happy and content with my lot. Others, I just know this is temporary. The adversary will always work to destroy love.

The real demon is that none of us can have perfect Christ-like compassion, so we are alone. We cut ourselves off from others because we know they’ll hurt us like we would hurt them if they opened themselves completely. You are right, Heavenly Father’s economic plan is nothing like our own. Money, wealth, are no objects to him. People are the real commodity. If we love ourselves unconditionally, then we develop that compassion and we can love others unconditionally as well.

Unfortunately, therein lies the problem. I know every single one of my unlovable qualities, even if I can hide them from others. I know better than anyone else why I shouldn’t be loved. The trick is learning that God loves me anyway. I have a long way to go before I can figure that out. I am Legion.

There’s been lots of talk of ghosts and demons going around the blogworld. Jessamyn at Theriomorph has posted a number of thoughts on ghosts, including one a few weeks ago, which inspired my post, Ghost in the Mirror.

Our demons are our doubts, our fears, our angers. When I lose my temper, I’m possessed by a demon. When I doubt myself, which I do much, much too often, I’m allowing the demon to have control. When I judge someone, that’s a demon.

Then there are voices in our heads which also tell us the truth. The voices of our conscience. Those voices are, sadly, often ignored along with the demons. Such as in Ned’s rant about two butt-holes who knocked a disabled woman down by going too fast through a revolving door, and didn’t stop to help. They even thought it was funny.

So, yet again, balance is the key. Last week I ruminated on the subject of things Better left Un-named. What I left un-named in that post was the little dramas we all feel when jilted, when ignored, when we don’t get the attention we think we deserve. Even if they are petty little sad vignettes, they happen, and they hurt. There are so many little voices, so many quiet joys, so many unhealed wounds, so much material lost in the great stream.

But as one of the commenters, Faber, above said, none is ever wasted. That’s comforting to ponder. That’s the meaning of a healthy spirit, when you know none of your pain or suffering is ever really wasted, it’s noticed by something, someone, somewhere.

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Thoughts on Connectedness

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Blogging is limited by what is posted. If it’s not mentioned, it doesn’t exist, at least here on this blog. Though it may seem cliche to post about what everyone else will post about, it’s imperative that we acknowledge what must be acknowledged. We must express our various thoughtful and heartfelt meditations for the massive tragedy in Pakistan, which is, amazingly, still pale by comparison to the death toll of the Tsunami last year. And which I’m sure most of us hardly think of now, including myself. The disaster in New Orleans was a drop in the bucket by these standards, yet it took it’s toll on our culture and national spirit. The problem is how to keep these good intentions alive for more that a week or two. We live in a relatively stable political world, by historical standards. But the rage of the planet cannot be negotiated or quelled.

I was just over at Animated Stardust and read her moving meditation of the interconnectedness of all life. I pass the microphone to her, for I cannot find better words to express what I feel now.