Posts

God Spoke

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  God spoke to me this Sabbath morning, or maybe it was a hummingbird. This is what her invisible wings inscribed on the air. I don't want Union, I want Nearness. Love is Two melting into Zero, so much more than One. No philosophy but play. The world is not saved by your political opinion, arguing for or against. The world is saved by your blessing. And how do you bless? You smile, not from your lips, but from your chest. You breathe, knowing that everyone on earth is breathing this golden breath. By the way you walk, the way you sit, the way you recline, then rise to stand again before the faithful sun, the way you wield your grandfather's hoe, your grandmother's cup, you demonstrate to friend and foe the majesty of merely Being. Photo: Penn State University News

Resting in the Heart

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     “Rest the mind in the heart"  is a profoundly simple instruction r epeated verbatim in the Shiva Sutras, the Vijnana Bhairava, and the Orthodox Christian Philokalia.  The alchemy practiced by cats, Taoist masters, and breast-sated infants. In the democracy of the heart, there is no difference between purring, chanting "Om," or gurgling “Mama.”  Yet it's really not a practice at all, but the surrender of practice, where doing yields to Being.     To stay safe, you might regard resting in the heart as a method of relaxation or stress management. But if you have courage, you let it be the portal to a New Creation. "Anyone who is in Christ is a new creation; old things have passsed away: behold, all is made new." (II Corinthians 5:17) The Heart is not just a beating organ for aerating your blood. It is a doorway. You  could only pass over  the threshold of an ancient temple after removing your shoes. Shoes represented the beliefs an...

Sapphire, Peal, and Golden Flower (Video)

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What will you do with the sky blue sapphire in your brow?  What will you do with the radiant pearl of grief and joy in your throat?  What will you do with the golden flower of the sun in your heart?  Walk gently over the earth, giving them away to everyone you meet.  

The Answer

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   This must be the answer. The milky way is your breath. You are made of  starlight from so far away, it only now arrives in your body. Barefoot  in wet moss,     you gaze into the glitter of midnight  unnaming  the creatures. Full moons float on an ocean  in every cell of your bones. This wild and holy silence is your only religion. It is called, "Bewilderment."  Having been veiled, you  unveil,  and having  dreamt, you  undream  the past and future. Opening your palms,  you hold  the sky, all its worlds so  weightlessly delightfully  uncertain and possible.  At last you have something  to give. Photo: Wally Pacholka