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Irrelevant

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     Become irrelevant. Then you can dance. Become useless. Then you can observe, unobserved. Threatening no one, you are a secret agent of the Most High. Not understanding what in hell is going on, you gather the intelligence of the unknown and reveal the prophecy of silence. People don't notice your body, its pebbles and chinks where spiders nest, its deer trails spiraling nowhere, the dandelions growing from your cracks. Your mansion crumbles and you become a field of grass too low and green for storms to knock down. You wither to wisps of brown. A forest mother weaves you into a mat for her baby. You are so finely woven, you hold water for shepherds who watch under the stars. And when you have truly become nobody, the Goddess breathes you. You are filled with light even while your flesh is sleeping. Photo: Shepherd in the Dolomites, from The Guardian
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It Happens In Your Heart (Video)

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Breathe out, enter the Bindhu of eternity where worlds are born. Breathe in,  be filled with starlight. Where did you think creation happened? Up above?  Out there? No, dear friends, it happens in your heart. 
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Message from Finn

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    "Take back your sovereignty. Bathe friend and stranger alike in the radiance of your heart. Stay centered in the boundless simplicity of your core, and don't let your mind be infected with the negative energy of warring parties. The chaos happening on the surface right now just belies the cleansing in the depths. Old stories and corrupt institutions must collapse to make way for a new earth, whose energy will be generated through the Heart, self-organized through the Intuition. Let empires break up into small, autonomous, bio-regional republics. This is not the end but the beginning." Finn spoke these words to me in beams of silence this morning. My teachers are not ascended masters or intergalactic spirit guides. My teachers are hummingbirds, frogs in the wetland, midnight owl wings, coyote howls. The wild and gentle gaze of the Friend.
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You Are What Cannot Collapse

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       Anything that can collapse is not who you are. You are what cannot collapse, because it was never built. It was never babbled by the mind into a many-storied tower. Governments collapse. Political parties implode. Dollar bills suddenly blow away, empty and worthless. Overnight, world teachers, ayatollahs, popes and gurus lose their hypnotic charisma. You open your eye, even your own personality collapses, the persona you called "me," dissolving like an angry nest of fleeing hornets from your chest. You fall down crying like a baby on the kitchen floor, strangely relieved, wondering what ever happened to "you." Good work! Keep falling! Right through the linoleum, into the worm-dark loam where stones breathe wisdom in chthonic stillness, ancestral waters spring from blue crystal silence at the core of the planet, and you plummet all the way into the womb of your heart. Which is my heart. Which is our great great grandmother's heart. Which is the unshakable ...
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