Day moon dives into clouds after a long night of brightness - cuddly blanket after dawn
Warmth sleeps in, but rises before noon, and the day slowly becomes balmy enough for bees
Frost has taken out the basil and tomatoes, and most of the marigolds, but there still are flowers to be found
And we are glad for indoor fire and music, and comforts greeting us at end of day, and we're glad for everything we're learning, each with its brightness, all along the way.
Liking is our nature - this is what we are like - we match ourselves point for point with other beings, and are delighted
We like what wakes up currents inside ourselves, reminding us of what we are. We like what mirrors back our goodness, we like what makes us feel that we are liked
Let us remember: No part of our being requires us to dislike - there is no judge condemning us for failing to be snooty, or unforgiving, or for siding with the enemy (or other team)
We can understand what's true by what we like, what we are like.
In this game, my object is to remember (in the face of strident efforts to distract me) the source of my perception and conclusions, and what I settle in my mind as fact
So many times the adversary tries to steal my pieces off the board, or change mine out for something small and helpless, or sell me something I can ill afford
My object is to see what's being done, to put each piece back in its rightful place, to never be the voice repeating lies, and meet each challenge with honesty and grace.
The north wind whips the chill like a flag, brisk snapping agaisnt skin, incursions between the weave of clothing, having chased away the damp cold of fog that wandered mutely through the morning
Frost tonight, I well expect (I picked the peppers in the afternoon) and so we dip into the changes I seem to never fathom till they are here.
Kindness overcomes confusion, and being lost, and grave distrust
Kindness lights the way to step between the layered lies and not be caught - it blows those webs away and leaves the song of ancient memory on lips and skin
The memory of who and where we were before there ever was a tale of wrong, the memory of who we've always been - kind because we are all of a kind.
I will drop into this quiet place, into this cozy nest where I am cherished and protected
I didn't make this nest, and I can't make one for you, but it is here and you can drop in, too
This could be the belly of a fish, this could be your last fall into desolation, but what you find here is the forever love, the law that claims you as its own.
Now that I've quit the business of judging, how you comport yourself makes little difference
We all deserve mercy, and we all have the stature to grant it. And maybe that is the greater role we all have longed for - mercy over judgment, universal ease.
All of us are foolish, and all of us are wise, and most wise when we're tender with each other, and allow each other's foolishness to roll off like water, evaporate and disperse in the cooling awareness of our sweet presence and the warming radiance of what loves us.
Beyond the simple counting - what is desired, what is required - beyond the march of days, a quiet call that can't be masked by anything wells up within
This is more than the touted reward for getting all the slots aligned, this is not something that comes to you by chance - what looks like scattered glimmers is in fact the indication of a brilliance overwhelming all the tokens
Release manipulations and line yourself up with this - the power to power your unspoken hope - beyond the march of days, this timeless truth speaks the infinitude of what you are.
This is the patient work: letting every frond unfold, fronds within fronds, fractally onward,
Letting each discovery be its own wonder, newness blazing out, connections coming back around
Being on the ground and letting every step be grounded, no perception skipped over, glossed over, taken as a given
Thus will every moment feel its value, all the beings know their solid worth, each idea unfold in pure perfection, heaven well established in the earth.
You may be grateful for the many things kind elders taught you, you may wish you had wise elders where you had none
But if you've ridden on strong shoulders or floundered on your own, you still will meet a challenge that you face alone
And this is where you'll learn to tap the infinite, this is your moment to take off and fly. Everyone must do it, so we all can - it is the one, the first and final, empowerment of man.
In great relief I wake to see I am not in the ropy undertow of fallen snarls, not tugged and lost and tangled
I am here, connected to my source, held in the smooth flow of being. I don't need to fight that battle - I am not there. I remain unfallen, floating free.
I will not give voice to rage, however justified it claims to be, rage against rage, justification on top of injustice, indignation tearing at dignity - this is not the voice that can bring quiet, this is not the voice that leads to satisfaction
I will listen for the voice of peace, seed crystal, deep within all sentience, present, thus, in each of us, its symmetry and elegance poised to grow, ensured, by its very nature, to reconstruct the whole space.
Today I reconsidered what's possible, and what's not. And it's not possible for me to be outside of harmony.
Therefore any stories to the contrary, of my blame or yours, must be untrue, and can have no effect on you or me, or what we are here to bring forth together
This moment belongs to something higher than we yet understand of you and me. This moment is ours to find out what that means.
In this fluid shift near the balance of night and day, the contrasts move past each other in intricate dances - fog licks in wisps around the drier air, warmth blazes through the cool, cool wafts through warmth
All the scents of change rise up, morning sun and shadows interlace their fingers, grass gleams with dew, new green shoots amid summer's darkening brown. Joy rises unbidden as the dawn, sense of adventure sweetening the day.
It stops being a thing you are trying to do. It becomes a present fact, the sun touched moment a reveal of something timeless, something always - the truth of now's perfection enduring through eternity, and you realize you never need to leave.
More important than feeling better would be the gift of knowing you are fundamentally sound, incapable of having something wrong with you, approved of to your deepest core, delighted in, to each extremity, illumined such that no dark shadow - disappointment, or even disenchantment - could ever fall across you. That, certainly, would be a reason to rise, take up your bed, and walk.
