3/20/2008
A Poem:
Clouds of confusion
Smoke in my mind
Create the illusion
That chains really bind
Ghostlike intrusions
keep worry on overtime.
But sweet eyes an infusion
An understood sign
Bringing hope of solution
And sweet voice low and kind
Sings an air of resolution
Clouds’ dissolution
peace lights my mind
Thank you for eyes
That understand mine
Thank you for songs
Pathways that wind
Sowing hope-seeds
in the space in my mind.
11/20/2007
Today is......my birthday. I'm not sure what that means......because the meaning of everything is changing all the time now. Wonderfully changing rainbow dancing wild birds singing all around me. Today is every day, familiar shapes glow with new meaning colors. Words look like angel's wings. I possess none of anything............................................my hands..............................used to try to grasp out for what I imagined I lacked, or needed. I used to think......I was poor and alone. I was afraid. I used my hands to try to grasp and capture and keep. They began to turn into claws. Everything I reached for stayed out of reach, fearing the scratching wound of capture as much as I feared the lack I felt. Now my hands are open, palms up, and the wild birds and angels I thought I needed and lacked swirl in the air around me and alight on my palms and fingertips and climb into and out of my heart freely. Blessed with abundance, I tremble at the miracle of it, almost lose my balance and reach to......grasp something solid? ........fear I will fall? Now nothing is solid but I'm not falling, I guess I must be flying and the only rocklike thing left is a little bit of fear once in awhile if I get tired and forget to rest. I don't know what that means either.
Happiness is as light as a feather but no one knows how to bear it. Fear is as heavy as the earth, but no one knows how to drop it. Everyone knows the usefulness of the useful, but no one knows the usefulness of the useless.
The sage does not make plans, so what use has he for learning? She does not make divisions, so what use has she for glue? He lacks nothing, so what use has he for desire? She has nothing to sell or buy, so what use has she for trade? The sage not needing these four things is a gift of grace. This gift of grace .....I think it is essence of love .... being love energy completely, completely infinitely, with everything......
I see you through the prism of this love....your perfection a confection of love energy...maybe waiting sometimes, to be set free so you can see me. I love you, palms up.
Joan
When you feel safe, loved, and affirmed, then the creative cosmos can flow through you. When it flows through you, it needs the same things from you: safety, love, affirmation. Later, when it's wonders have taken root and grown, you can consider the filters of form it might want to take on. Any poem, painting, film, sculpture, story...has a fragile beginning in the mind.
Children are organisms of the creative cosmos. It would be a wonderful change in our world if we understood this, and refrained from trying to shape them into ways of thinking and behaving that restrict their natural development.
We can offer safety, love, and affirmation to everyone around us, no matter how old we are. We can welcome and nurture the fragile creative impulse in everyone by being nonjudgmental, and respectful of the ultimate source from which creativity comes.
Creativity is not a hobby. It is not a peripheral quality of our souls. When in touch with creativity, we are able to solve old problems in new ways, and see everything around us as valuable. Thus the world, and our hopes, are renewed.
July 4th, 2007
You are an essential part of everything.
I am trying to pay attention to innocence, guilelessness, and sincerity.
getting rip-tide rolled by the universe sometimes, but keeping the faith, it only feels rough when the water tears you up.
Well let us remember way back:
There is no blame
Love is the ruling principle of the universe
Harmony exists constantly; only sometimes I do not perceive it
Perhaps we are brand new collections of atoms
Capable of anything, long distance wanderers,
Gypsies of the stellar spaces,
Riders of the light waves,
Lights ourselves, lovely colored lights.
What freedom!
We dash about in ecstatic combinants
joyful, safe in the sharing of our atomic selves
Are we the first to discover this way?
Interstellar Eden.
We study intently, with our glasses perched on comets
Courses in
How to Ride a Star
The Way to Enter a molecule,
How to love ourselves.
June, 2007