Tag: earth

power and glory

On By faeriembassy2 Comments


let us hop in and play 
turn the tables into chairs the saucers into cups 
the flat into an ashram and a dream into reality.

find the off button and use it
pick up the broadcast of wind and stars
nod to the trees whispering 
lie on the ground
attend your breath 
feel the sun on bare flesh
the slide of water on skin
watch clouds
leaves change colour
notice bees fly 
hear birds singing.

toot toot
climb aboard the earth train
pausing at all stations 
let go of the clock the week the timetable the news the feeds the lattes.

break the habit of thinking of worry of talking
pause
breathe again.
make the moment your ally
it will hold your hand
comfort you
always be there for you .

the moment of Presence never fails
never leaves you,
it is your power and glory 
your hope and redemption
your canvas and paintbrush 
ready to receive your mark 
of the blueprint of you as divine being.

hello

On By faeriembassy2 Comments

it has been a while has it not
since we last met up,
here we are – once again in a circle holding hands .
the faerie embassy is emerging from its winter snuggy unfurling into a windy spring.
welcome swallows are renovating a nest on the mud wall outside the kitchen
daffodils nod in brilliant yellows around the yard
tiny swollen blossom buds on the one surviving peach tree are almost fit to burst .
the grey shrike thrush sings
magpies strut about on the verandah
stand on the back of the rocking chair and carol
look in thru the glass door at us
begging in a very proud and aristocratic way.

the heart tenderness of spring
new life rising – poignant bitter sweet in a forest deep in recovery after the fire
the regeneration is fierce, weeds prolific and many dead trees to remind us of the blaze.

Poem

Death comes knocking at her door
unprepared innocence answers
a beloved companion does not return
grief surges without tidal restraint
and the day is no longer a friend.


Tragically Chloe guide dog for 8 years to daughter Elsie died
words cannot fill the hole
sadly Chloe chose to leave on Elsies birthday
it reminds how precious every moment we share with our beloveds is.


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code red humanity
code red
obviously we needed to hear it again
we needed it to be spelt out loud and clear
if ever there was a time to make some changes now is the hour.



Poem

Unseen

by the shining Sea we sit
in liquid silence of silver light
unseen the stars weave a quilt
our breath a stitch holds on tight.

by the shining Sea we pray
regret and suffering come to rest
yin and yang circle around
hearts remember all are blessed.

by the shining Sea we are
immersed within the golden mean
a Song emerges from the stars
and we who Sing remain unseen.

may the light of the divine guide us all

Sandra
xx


    one year on

    On By faeriembassy6 Comments

    one year ago this day we were in Merimbula visiting Zoe Kean and Frankie, Kingston was with us. Frankie was four then , Kingston nine and not feeling well – sore stomach – probably anxiety – living in a thick atmosphere of smoke and threat of fire over many weeks.
    Zoe checked ‘fires near me’.com – the Badja fire was growing bigger – time for us to leave.
    Back home we prepared – roof swept, gutters cleaned out with rags stuffed in the ends to hold water, pumps filled with petrol, hoses connected around the house spraying water over verandahs, sweeping tidying gathering  – on and on it went under thickening smoke with black embers dropping into existence above our heads.
    Last summer was hot and dry so very different to this years cooler temperatures, heavy cloud cover, drizzly misty with exciting afternoon storms and green green green, dams full and rivers gurgling. The scarring of the fire on the ranges is still very evident , a bald look with a stubble of charred pencil trees standing lonely in once was forest.
    We laid out clothes selecting wool long sleeves heavy soled boots, tried on our new beaut face masks made adjustments, checked the app repeatedly, listened to ABC radio, drank cups of tea, ate some dinner, gave everything a good soaking and went to bed. In the middle of the night a fierce Roaring woke us – on our bedroom verandah facing west we came to the realisation that we could hear the Fire.
    Kinda like sitting in a 747 revving up on the tarmac maybe louder.
    Hopped in the car and beetled out of our forest through Christa’s paddocks to vechiles, a ridge top with views east south west ,meeting our neighbour Keith Fish out for a look. The sky was lurid- oranges pinks yellows blacks – a sickening mix and swirl of colours that looked wrong maybe 25-30 km west of us- a monster blaze – huge flames visible. I don’t know what we discussed with Keith – good luck probably fingers xxx, back to bed and sleep.
    Waking again around 4 am – another listen – yep still roaring though perhaps not as loud ,another drive out to vechiles – this time the sky a murky blanket , activity difficult to spot and for those brief moments I thought that the blaze has gone behind Wandella mountain away from us and our valley.
    Wrong wrong wrong.
    I checked fires near me.com saw the evacuation alert for Cobargo – rang the daughters – leave now. There had been no preparation for this , no inkling that a village could or would go up in flames. The baby was only 2 weeks old.  And so through fire and flames on either side of the road the two families along with hundreds of other people made their way to Bermagui. There beside the ocean under a malevolent sky and air so putrid with smoke that breathing was difficult they were befriended and given a place to stay. Kind souls poured out of their homes to help the refugees.
    Even now we all experience a timeless disassociation where we cannot fit the events into a linear time frame, where our trauma racked minds and bodies slide off images and grasp uselessly at memories that float just out of reach.
    Satisfied they were safe – little did we know the fire was already eating the village of Cobargo – we decided on a cuppa and toast rather than bed but before we could raise a cup John felt the pull to start the pump down at the dam and I masked up. By the time John returned hoses were squirting water onto our verandahs and fires were slowly creeping into our bush munching ferns grasses vines, whooshing up trunks of trees, crackling snapping rumbling.
    A few times I crept down the track from the house to watch the fires journey  on the other side of the dam. There is a fascination with fire –it is a mystery, a wonder, an attraction, something impels us to move closer to it – we cannot grab it but within its flames are worlds dreams and visions that beckon some primal instinct within us. And yet when we get too close it becomes a menace a monster a flaming scary beast.
    The shack near the dam caught alight-  windows shattering metal roof screaming – a motorbike in cold storage exploded – and so the fire moved inexorably closer and closer engulfing everything in its path. The house filled with smoke – I realised that if the fire didn’t get me asphyxiation might. I had heard the stories of oxygen being sucked out of the air ahead of the fire and how the very air can combust far in advance of flames and heard too of  firestorms that are like tornadoes twisting and uprooting trees cars buildings and flinging them for miles. We watered as the fire rained down upon our home ;embers flying, gardens and sheds burning, gas bottles exploding.
    I had lit a candle on the altar, incense and prayed – ask and ye shall receive it is said and so it is and so it was that I was answered held and safe.  
    I am not an island alone eking out a physical existence – there is a whole journey behind and ahead of me , lineages of ancestors and wisdom keepers, a universal web of connections to which I and You belong.  If it was my time to depart then I would not be writing this story – instead I lived to tell the tale again; with deep deep gratitude in my heart and body for still having this shelter, this beautiful mud brick castle I call home – this beautiful family of friends children grandchildren, this beautiful forest that burnt and lives regenerating generously with grasses vines flowers and plants I have never ever seen before.
    I take the example of this forest and apply it to my life – its capacity to hold and to give, its courage and humility, its fearlessness and innate strength of Being,

    One year on :
    still dwelling in a choppy sea of emotions as we make our way , as we endeavour to return to lives forever changed by this experience. If there are lessons to be learned from this it is about how we care for each other and how we care for the earth. There is no separation – as we do to each other so we do to the Earth.
    There has been enough cruelty and suffering. We know we can do better; that we are light as well as dark and bloom best under kindness and good will . This new year let us reflect on the light we see within each other on the care we take with each other and the love we share.

    Namaste
    Sandra
    xx

    …inside the joy of another

    On By faeriembassy5 Comments

    Frankie is
    seriously kooky
    a character actor
    a ragtag fun charged giggle
    expert at play .
    At four and a half she says
    ‘when I grow up I want to be a Koala’.
    well ‘hallelujah’ I say.
    At last, at long last perhaps the tide is turning
    and humanity is growing up.

    She wants to be a koala not a pop star or a teacher,
    not a doctor or engineer, not a pilot banker or farmer .
    Among all the influences of her first four years
    it is Koala that grabs her attention.
    We guess she will grow out of this notion
    but what a great aspiration,
    what a truth of the relevance importance significance and
    worthiness of our Kin.

    There is some thing irresistibly sweet about this
    that amid the drama acting out
    increased weaponisation of space land and sea,
    this solid determination to be enemies,
    a small child sees another picture.
    One in which we share the planet with the koala
    in which there is no divisive separation,
    no compelling reason not to choose a life among the tree tops;
    hanging around in the fork of a branch chewing eucalyptus leaves.

    Life is lived in these moments
    the moment when we see inside the joy of another
    when it comes bursting out and knocks our senses with its purity.

    I love that I am witness to the comings goings and doings of the many Beings that have no vote no pension card no shares no credit card.

    The gate of our enclosed vege garden was left open and while we were busy with our lunch two goannas ventured in. Fat guts as Greg calls it (featured below) chases the smaller goanna around -trampling the peas broadbeans silver beet carrots cabbages and broccoli- absolute wreckheads round and round lifting their heads up against the wire trying to find the way out. John places a duck egg outside the gate – we sit and watch – eventually fat guts lumbers out and snaffles the egg – no breakage – down in one.

    Thank you Rob Parnell who captured this pic last week while he and Glenda were staying with us.

    I have to pinch myself sometimes that I have this ringside seat
    even when they are in destructor mode ,
    even when the fairy wrens drive us bonkers pecking all day at the windows and some unknown ( wallaby or was it possum?) scoffs the carnation seedlings
    even in these moments it is a joy to be face to face with indigenous Earth natives.

    Here they are going about business of life on earth; so too Frankie – doing what she does best – playing/Being the child and curiously highlighting an uncharted field of possibilities for human aspirations. What a grace to offer to hard wired domesticated grown ups. Somewhere within us- the child the wild the spirit – yearns to explore this sweetness of life unencumbered by the restrictive mores of a society modelled on dubious ideals.

    Lead the way young ones- we have much to learn yet.

    roll out the pipe dream

    On By faeriembassy3 Comments

     

    ball ball shaped color earth

    Restrictions are easing and people cheer for these small mercies
    forgetting they are sovereign Beings enacting a sacred life on a sovereign planet.

    I started to tell a story about the state of forests four months after The Fire raged through almost the entire east coast of Australia.

    In this story I was going to tell there featured an arch villain Eden Woodchip Mill not only continuing operations but with plans to make briquettes from burnt trees for export. And then a lament of how desecrated the forests are in the south east corner where I live, desecrated by management that in serving a chipmill clearfells and control burns on a regular basis. I finish this story with a heartfelt regret about how some of these ransacked forests will never recover,  and then,  I caught myself.

    So off in the tired old story I almost believed it. So off in a mechanistic logical rational equation forgetting the true potentiality within and without.

    If we acknowledge that humans are multi-dimensional Beings who can Sing Pray and Heal then the truth becomes that we can do/be anything.  We have little idea of all that we capable of. We  know we are able to pollute our entire nest, split the atom, splice DNA, rob aquifers, exterminate species, fire missiles and pretend that capitalism is a valid role model.

    Also aware that we have a capacity for kindness compassion forgiveness nurturing families communities while living respectfully lovingly with the Planet.

    So kinda like jekyll and hyde characters. On the one hand our bodies hearts minds can be inveigled into serving the machine, the machine seemingly intent on our self destruction certainly our planetary base Or, we can surrender and perhaps in this discover an innate divine nature with inherent inner wisdom. In this state the resonance of the heart of Earth / Universe, the Great Spirit leads us to the possibility that we can walk in balance with the totality of existence, the dreaming of oneness, in love with creating Beauty for All Beings.

    This path does not require religion faith or servitude.
    It does require sacrifice truth and integrity.
    I am one and I am many.
    Like the neighbour, the senator the plumber.

    The end game, my friend Heidi says, is here.
    She’s right. It is the end for despair, bad deeds, subjugation and greed.
    Even though many pointers channel us relentlessly in this direction.
    The end of excess. The end for coal gas fracking, bio weapons, nuclear missiles, drone strikes and hatred. The end of all the dirty putrid ways. The end of indulgent mindless behaviours.

    The abscess (from latin abscessus ‘a going away’ )  has been lanced, it oozes unpleasantly painfully and with a certain amount of relief that at long last all that is wrong is being exposed.  Many keep grasping onto what was, spin the story  and apply band aids .

    For others this has become a time of revelation renewal and reflection.  A time of deep immersion in the Songs of Earth …Wind … Bird … Ocean … Whale … Rock… and Spirit. Tuning in to a higher frequency in which time and space merge into a oneness of loving attention, stillness solace nurturance and joy.

    A pipe dream, a fantasy, a wish. I dare Us to hold this pipe dream, to wish, fantasize and activate another mode of living.

    I dare us to not restart the old but chart another path through the rubble, the restrictions controls vanities addictions of yesterday into the Present unencumbered with all that seeks to destroy our beautiful planet home.

    When faced with a pandemic we have proved that we can shut the world down. We have proved that when faced with difficulties we are creative and caring, that we can live without so much that was thought to be necessary.

    What do you reckon?……. roll out the pipe dream…  nothing to loose.  Sing  it into existence into our gardens our grandchildren into the molecules of  land and sky.  Take a journey into the amazing cosmological evolutionary story that brought us to this moment and realise that as co creators we are part of the next chapter …

    In honour of Murray Richmond Taylor who loved the trees the wind riffling in them the birds skipping around the yard; who loved the idea of a world without war and violence hunger and pain, who loved our long rambling phone conversations about how to ‘fix’ the world.   Father dearly loved and missed.

    the fates thread the loom

    On By faeriembassy10 Comments

     

    before new years eve……

    thick smoke envelopes our valley

    coats our tongues

    slipping particles into the blood stream

    rivers and dams collapse under the weight

    of the hot dry winds and fierce Sun

    forests have sent up smoke signals

    all is not well

    heed the children.

     

    and then one day  Fire came

    orange red  flames licking

    gorging on grasses wood,

    devouring the tree the spider the worm

    those that could scattered

    rose up into the air

    some diving to ground trembling bodies pressed suffocating

    others fled running  for their lives

    some hid to be chanced over, others fried.

     

    I waited at the house

    in an outfit

    I had carefully selected and laid out the night before

    jeans and belt

    pink woollen socks big boots

    singlet, green checked woollen shirt

    blue crocheted woollen beanie

    thick golden gloves and a face mask.

    the hoses were in place

    half a dozen of them in snake formation around the house.

    the job description was easy,

    apply water

    to verandah and under

    up the poles and onto windows

    even the walls.

    water water water

    next hose next verandah repeat

    oh and stay alive.

     

    strangely calm

    waiting, watching the advance

    creeping into the bush like a thief in the night

    with  an almighty roar.

    John in his red woollen shirt ,

    hoody up and mask on,

    starts the pump

    water is running from every hose

    the verandah wetted from the night before

    but we hose it all again.

    the gutters are filled with water

    watching

    a ring of fire at the dam

    the shack goes up

    a loud  whump signals the end of  Rebeccas BMW.

    fire scaling up tree trunks

    gobbling shrubs ferns grasses

    stringybarks bush-cherry

    angophoras red gums

    snapping leaves leaping dancing cavorting

    and coming directly towards us.

    it  picks up pace coming up the slope from the dam

    a wall of flame approaches the south verandah.

    John is calm

    he has a the high pressure hose

    fire meets water and determination

    water holds

    John stands firm.

     

    He built this house

    made every brick

    from the earth in front of the house,

    it literally rose up out of the ground

    one brick at a time

    for over 30 years a family home

    one that now rings to the tune of grandchildren,

    blood sweat tears births deaths marriages

    this house alive, pulsates with love.

     

    inside smoke is thick

    visibility zero

    bath tub full of skanky dam water

    Zoes woollen blankets a sodden heap on the floor

    a good escape to crawl under to steady the breath

    before returning  outside to the heat,

    the inferno the hoses and water.

    embers skipping onto the roof

    making holes in the clear roof panels

    curling embers meet sodden verandah and vanish

    no burns on the boards, no blisters on our bodies.

    a window cracks in the bedroom

    the window where our mobiles sit to get reception.

     

    dust soot ash and charcoal coat everything

    charred trunks and limbs

    a whole understorey has disappeared.

    will we see now?

    will we wake to reality?

    our Planet home

    our beautiful beautiful home

    trying to deal with our consumables, our plastics

    our fumes our anger.

    too much she cries

    too much,

    forgive us for we do know what we do

    we know

    that’s the tragedy

    we know.

     

    some days after the main fire front had passed

    trees still smouldering

    roots deep in the ground  burning,

    many elder trees are continuing to fall

    walking on crusty black ash

    the ground as if plowed up

    giant holes where once a root system lived

    patterns of ash like crop circles

    skirting fallen trees

    shallow breathing the air

    smoky thick and relentless

    visibility limited.

    we leave our burnt forest

    drive through a silent world

    a charred smouldering valley,

    some neighbours houses mere rubble

    power poles smashed sideways

    wires curling in chaos

    cows dead.

    We come to our village

    half the main street has been smashed

    this is my new world.

     

     

    the tower has fallen

    the spin of ideas and aspirations has tripped

    been knocked sideways

    taken a slam.

    the Fates thread the loom

    again

    They weave

    brightly coloured lights bounce from fingertips

    glories rarely glimpsed

    consciousness stretches

    tugs

    elemental energies dance

    holding holding holding

    while the tapestry is woven

    the women are Singing.

     

     

     

    but the train has left the station

    On By faeriembassyLeave a comment

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    I am Earth born

    and steadily returning

    dirt under my nails

    dirt etched in wrinkles and seams

    dirt leaf web in hair,

    roots entwined with stringybark and kurrajong

    limbs braced cradle nest feather egg

    animated by wind and lightning,

    a Song in my heart

    a poem in my Soul.

     

    danger is real, threats ever present

    truth terrifying

    scalding our hearts and minds.

     

    islands of plastic expanding

    soil leached of promise

    artesian waters meet fracking

    forests cut sliced into chips

    women beaten children wronged

    madness in place of common sense.

     

    I am not alone

    in this feral forest community

    of feminine and masculine,

    as children we arrived

    now wisdom visits.

     

    wallaby thinks not of place or belonging

    comfortable in its own fur

    claws perfect for scratching

    picking lemons

    pulling up artichokes

    nurturing baby.

    wallaby is not human

    and I am animal

    not animal enough to Know place

    to belong

    but animal enough to be Kin.

     

    moon set

    boobook poses the question

    bandicoot squeals,

    ants on the run

    pobblebonk sings the rainSong.

     

    change is upon us

    denial is fruitless,

    humans play catch up

    but the train has left the station,

    some do not hear the whistle

    some lay down on the tracks

    others nap head pressed against the glass.

     

    no matter,

    it is what it is

    our Mother will decide.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    a seamless dance

    On By faeriembassy4 Comments

    dawn mist shifts reality

    softens tall trees shrubberies,

    plants of food and medicine.

    autumn rain launches the ticks

    no larger then a full stop.

     

    sweet morning Songs

    whip bird, kookaburra, lyrebird, magpie,

    tuning the vibrations of Air Water Earth Sunshine

    tweeting of love family and food

    tiny notes of living.

     

    a red belly black shares verandah Sun

    as kindling is chopped,

    we pass each other in the garden

    no blinking, no poking tongue out,

    a seamless dance.

     

    a cuppa with friends

    David points to my leg ‘what’s that?’

    pulling the leech off ,

    ‘a gift’

    I place it in their garden.

     

    red necked wallaby soft eyes alert

    grass stem poking from its mouth,

    my heart listens and waits,

    a tiny jelly wobble of the pouch

    another addition to the tribe.

     

    goanna clambers onto the verandah

    tongue waggling toenails clicking,

    through the open doorway

    crash bump and bang

    unable to find its way out.

     

    in the room where I sleep a grandmother died

    her body laid to rest

    beyond the dam under the red gums.

    babies are born, daughters wed,

    placentas buried.

     

    before menopause I bled on this land

    red mark on my forehead,

    earth heart meditation

    a sacrament for the Mother,

    honouring Her.

     

    forest life is raw,

    immediate

    the forest IS without me,

    a miracle I adore

    a moment held within every breath I take .

     

     

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    the language of eartheart

    On By faeriembassy4 Comments

     

    political / economic language saturates our daily lives but it is our choice whether we speak it or not. It is a language of shares, investments, insurance, security, profit and loss leading to winners and losers. Words make stories in which everything is a commodity, measured in terms of productivity progress and usefulness. A language that denies Nature Feelings the Earth and Love.

    The orchestra is playing. It began at dawn with great open bellied laughing, then slightly more  melodic tunes ,peeps whistles whips and trills until it is riotous in the sweetest possible way. The songs continue as I drink my pot of tea, eat toast, follow me as I meditate, dress, sweep the kitchen floor , brightly busily slowly, tuned in to the day they chirp cheep chatter and warble.

    This symphony is full of purpose expressing vital news marking the patterns of their lives of the Forest around them; sunrise, egg hatching, a flowering, a seeding, storm alerts, approaching snake goanna human, matings, deaths, sunset, all is jotted in the Forest ledger, all a note played in the orchestra of Birdom. Everywhere wrens honeyeaters magpies thrushes pigeons tawny frogmouths, skinks wombats wallabies and bandicoots are communicating the Radiance of Life on Earth.

    Thunder cracks open the swollen skies, runs away over to the Mountain and races back again. I am lying on the couch reading when the thunder and lightning Beings skip into the room whip crackling the air, chuck a bright flare of light and startle me.

    Rain has a huge vocabulary, a vast repertoire of moods sounds and feelings . There is the song for splashing, for plopping fat drops, tapping on window panes, a pelting drumbeat on the iron roof, a windy slapping against the tree trunks and a gushing gurgling rushing flooding along creeks tracks and drains.

    Some days it broods far above, squatting on the Mountain wearing  a grey beret. Cloud mist drifts around inviting the faintest speck of moisture on the cheek. Other days rain scarpers out to sea with barely a backward glance, where it visits Mother Ocean and shares a cuppa. In its own sweet time it returns to the valley rejuvenated committed to the business at hand and delivers a soft shower or a teeming heavy pelting drama.

    Why would we think that Water is not cognizant, that Earth is not aware, that Air is not tuned in, that Fire does not know us? We are forged from the Elements , related to every drop, every breath, every molecule.Exif_JPEG_420

    There is a Song for the ghost mushroom, the elder flower, pittosporum , titree, lavender  of scent and beauty , bee foraging , bioluminescence ,oils and medicine. I inhale , take them into my body – a draught of pure sun drenched essence Sings in me.

    The dialect of frogs – croaks cricks stutters bonks hops and leaps in  communication with Earth and reed, Water and soft mud, hibernation dreaming, forecasters of rain and water quality.

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    The ripe summer peach is a rich feltness in my mouth, dribbles along my fingers and chin singing of tree limb and bough, of bud blossoms leaves fruit and birds nests, sun, rain, wind and days measured in ripeness and angles of the sun and spiders that weave between branches , worms burrowing in the roots and squealing children that swing up on branches and chuck pips at each other .

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    Hard working ants push up the soil – a drainage technique for them that informs me rain is coming.

    Every Being has language, every Being shares their Story .

    Stop !  listen and learn a language older than the stock market, older than open cut mines, older then human intervention.

    This language of Nature, of Life is ancient, a lineage that holds Creation in its Song. One day we entered the story inventing our words / myths around the camp fire, Songs of respect and awe, humility and gratitude until we dug up the uranium, clearfelled the forests and greedy gobbled dry the rivers.

    It was then we changed the words to deny Beauty . It was then we allowed fork tongue speak of rational logic to lock out the weeds and sunflowers that nod as you walk past, the cloud that stoops to peer in through the window, the dripping tap in the kitchen saying hey I am Water, we are Kin. It was then a Forest became a compartment and the share price of google was more important than the River the Platypus and the Child.

    Now we are going forward determining outcomes while the Raven sits on the wire, keen eye piercing , aaahh aaahhh aaahhh.

    Probably time to embrace the full embodied experience of connection, time to learn the language of the Heart that communicates with all Beings.

    Time to come home.

    Come back to Earth.

    x

     

     

     

     

     

     

    …standing at the pearly gates..

    On By faeriembassy6 Comments

    what are WE in the business of as planetary Beings ?

    some people have a mission, a divine purpose, a calling, a particular yen for something that no matter how far away they travel from ground zero they are brought back face to face with what is theirs to do.

    is this You?

    can you recognise your hearts yearning

    your embodiments lessons

    your creative muse crooning under the hum of the white noise?

    my mission is stated here : https://faeriembassy.wordpress.com/about/

     is this something I have made up to make myself important, inflate my ego, some sort of  delusional pretence?

    only my Heart and the Divine can truly know the answer to this.

     lets say I’m living in ‘la la land’, a rosy petalled state of warriors and hearts with swords of truth writing to bring about justice and respect …

    is this a fantasy?

    how about this one then?

    …standing at the pearly gates passport ready to launch down to planet Earth, to mother father, to village or city. A bit nervous because they tell you the spirit of oneness will be forgotten and it’s your job to remember. 

     who could possibly ever forget this Magnificence this Totality of Beingness ,this Truth?

    before you go some last minute instructions:

     when you get there you must take a breath and keep breathing for all the days of your allotted time on Earth.

    you survive by applying food and water to the Bodyhouse given to you.

    there will be twists turns tangents and contradictions .

     Earth will share plenty of strange things, many wonders, countless horrors. 

    Keep in mind that everything/ everyone is an aspect of  the Great Omnipresent Divinity.

     

     and then you arrive, the passport passes along the umbilical cord transmitted deep into the cells of your body and you wake into harsh light bustle beeps and shrieks, the air cuts you like a knife , the sounds wound your hearing , the world is hazy and confusing and already you don’t like it much. where is the Source now you wonder?

     as you grow up things happen, violence war pain and suffering, somehow it all seems wrong as if the world is divided into good and evil. In those dark and difficult times the light of the Divine holds steady but your gaze is elsewhere.

     you realise the Body likes food likes sex likes clothes likes facebook ..likes..  you enjoy basketball kayaking making money ,there are amazing things going on so you buckle up and accept the ride. 

     you keep breathing until you can’t any longer and one day you find your Self at the pearly gates again passport ready detailing the acts of a life lived.

    if you had tear ducts you would weep for here the oneness is as it always is 

    what is our job description here on planet Earth?

    breathe eat sleep make love make happiness make generosity make kindness

    make it up as you go along

    but do your Best

    as best as you can Be.

    pouring gratitude onto the Ground you walk

    into the Air you breathe

    through the Water you drink.

    and one day the heart awakens and you see Turtle crossing the road and it is you carrying your house around.

    one day on the way to work you notice nest-building by the Swallows under the bridge and you know this is you building a future for your family.

    one day you plant a seed – tomato  lettuce  zucchini. the  fruits are shared with your neighbour and in return they give sauerkraut. you recognise that despite the differences community is enacted.

    if you could be anything in the whole wide world what would you Be?

    I hope you can say that it is You now

    that You are being your True Self.

    breath by breath

    day by day

    we learn our role

    we learn what is ours to do.

     

    blessings

    sandRa