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Not Lost

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    You are not lost. I am not lost. We are right here. Each of us exactly where we need to be in order to wake up. Here, in the stillpoint at the center of chaos. Or did you want to go back to sleep for a hundred more lifetimes? No, here is the only place where awakening happens. Here is the "holy place" which Jesus spoke of.* Here is the centerpoint of the Cross where all the opposites converge - heaven and hell, pain and beauty, male and female, past and future. You cannot awaken at a Yoga retreat on a tropical island, or on a seventh dimensional world with the ascended masters, because that is not Where You Are Right Now. And you cannot understand this chaos with your intellect, your politics, your endless conspiracy theories. "Figuring it out" is not why you were born on this planet of opposites. You were born to practice a much deeper alchemy: to discover that this confusion is not who You are. Deeply truly witnessing the chaos releases you from ...
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Wu Wei

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  You make honey  by doing even less than nothing.  When you act, no one honors  your tranquility,  the part of you that  merely listens to the silence  inside silence, where  the music of creation comes from.  Your grace is the fragrance of wu wei,  the pollen of emptiness.    You prune away thinking and drop concentration in with the compost.  If you make the slightest effort, it all becomes philosophy.  So you sink into the furrow beneath your breastbone and use this breath the way your ancestor used  her hand-carved hoe. Sap condenses on your forehead whether you breathe in or out. The lightning in your spine hums more softly than orchids.  With no names but the bee-mad  sound of invisible wings, your pistil and stamen bend to kiss without the slightest breeze.  Only souls that buzz understand this. They have sweet  sticky feet like yours. The shameless way you glut your...
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AI

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The radiance glowing from your chest contains more energy and intelligence than all the AI data centers technocrats could ever build. Rest there. Return to the kingdom of your heart. Real intelligence is never artificial. It is You. The survival of humanity depends on whether or not you have the courage to take your sovereignty back.   Image: by Rashani Réa from the book of poems and mandalas we created together. LINK 
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Paschal

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Nothing is pure that has not fallen. Be an apple petal on a stream, a pale seed in the mother-brown furrow, a spark of the iron hammer on the lock of the prison door. Be lamb's blood on the lintel, and the silent footstep of a slave escaping in haste at night. If you cannot stay for one hour, stay for one moment and be whole. Nothing crushed in these green shadows fails to rise. Be the glut of a rain drop on the mouth of a lily, the starry wine that pours into the hollow grail of this body. Breathe Christ through your broken places.
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