Solstice

King Oberon and Titania, rulers of the faery kingdom, are having a delightful lovers' quarrel on Mid-Summer's Eve, just to keep waves of polarity at play, the dance of opposites in the ocean of midnight. Elves, gnomes, tree sylphs and undines frolick among the toadstool rings in the scent of rowan and hawthorn. I'm pretty sure this is an accurate vision of the elemental revelry we would actually see, if we cleansed the doors of perception and stopped judging the world through the lens of our concepts about it.

Do you want to change the time-line of our planet? Then spend more time here, right where you are, touching, healing the earth with soft barefoot steps in the wet grass. Listen more deeply to silence, until you hear the stones beneath you praying. Regard each hummingbird as a divine messenger. And always remember that nothing has to "mean" anything. As soon as a creature “means” something else, it’s being is diminished. Why should anything mean more than it IS?

Every particle of the earth is already infinite. It means itself. The Happening we call the world is divine energy, delighting in feral self-effulgence, the secret harmony of chaos, the dance of ananda, whose only purpose is play.

Isn't it time to start using the wings of your heart? One wing is bliss, the other compassion. Both are delicate and wounded forever. So what? Your wings are sacred, your nerve cells are sacred, your fingertips are sacred, sacred the satsang of microbes who gather in your body, humming darkness into light.

~Painting by Sir Joseph Paton, 1849