Seeing Beyond

Dancing Trees March 28 2010


The trees are still.

Small buds promise future green

Still hiding from spring frosts.

Gray limbs hint at imminent expansion,

Shyly waiting.

Trees are patient.

They grow for decades,

Rooted firmly in one place.

They respond to whatever comes –

Spirit wind, human songs, bird chirrups,

Squirrel scampers,

Stormy blasts and

Misting rain.

Inside the church, our congregation sings in praise of trees.

I look out in awe and watch them swaying gracefully,

Adding their dancing to the rhythm of our song.

I then peek at them again once our hymn has ended,

Appreciating that the trees have stilled once more.



Reflection

We are connected to each other and to the vast array of other creatures in ways we can never know while embodied. Like a tree, a person is an expression of the divine. We all embody the same divinity. We resonate, we vibrate, we are. Together, all our molecules, holograms of God, move in unison with each other, and with the universe. Occasionally, our human eyes allow us to see with spirit mind this broader, deeper connection -- and we rejoice that all is as it should be. Nothing truly bad can happen.

Fire of Love

Connection March 27 2010


What opens up the way for love?

The path goes deep into the soul,

Shows the life force,

Allows true vibrations to pour forth

Untrammeled by misgivings or by hidden weakness.

Love’s power blazes from the eyes –

A light so brilliant that it awes.

Divinity shines out, beckoning --

Enthralling her who witnesses its glow.



Reflection

We were friends, meeting a couple of times a week for dinner, talking about this and that – events, observations, concerns, life’s mundane moments. Such a friendship is sweet and satisfying. It’s real. It lets us know that we’re considered special in someone else’s mind and life, and we all need that experience. But what happened to transform that friendship into a special relationship? We’ve wondered.

In fact, I’ve realized I remember the moment that it happened. That experience has been flashing before my eyes again, as it happened the day that I knew that unlimited love between us was possible. We weren’t even looking at each other. As the Other’s eyes gazed into the distance, in reflection on what we had just been discussing, suddenly they flashed a light that bespoke infinity. Their pale blue blazed alive, with a vibration simultaneously golden, indescribable, angelic in power. It was a moment of perceiving the divine energy that animates us all but that is generally hidden by the physical reality of the body. It was a glimpse of a soul. The intensity and vibration were right, calling forth the love hidden in me. I recognized them and knew that I’d been seeking just that frequency of spiritual vibration. It was a moment of revelation, tempering friendship with unearthly fire, transforming it into deep love. It has seemed mysterious because it is – mysterious and wonderful. We are blessed.

Farewell to a Beloved House

Farewell to a beloved house March 26 2010


The house echoes in my heart and soul,

Its hollow void so strange --

Our life force draining from it,

As I prepare to move.



I pack up our mementos,

Take the kitty’s gravestone – our memorial,

Though his molecules stay here,

Woven into soil and garden ground.



Our molecules, also, yours and mine,

And memories of life and love together,

Stay bonded to the windows, doors, and walls,

Within this dwelling

Where we toiled to bring forth beauty,

Where our love and friendship blossomed –

Where we lived and where you died.



The house will ring again with love and laughter,

As a new family’s love mingles with what we’ve left.

In places where we go on earth, we blend,

Imprinting as we are imprinted – exchanging ever transient matter,

Bonding strongly, sharing life and love.



Reflection:

I’m sitting in my usual chair, in the kitchen nook, looking out on lovely spring as she greens, softens, paints with pastel hues. The familiar squirrel scampers up and down the bush outside the window. A cardinal alights, peering through the glass to find my accustomed silhouette, framed by the arms and headrest of the dark brown leather recliner that’s my writing place. Ellen and I moved into this house exactly 4 years ago – April, 2006.

As I contemplate the contentment of sitting in a familiar chair, meditating, I'm thinking also of Ellen’s beloved Eames chair, the one that broke last Fall. After attempted repairs by three different shops, it may be coming home again this week or next – but I won’t live here any more by next week. It apparently won’t ever come back home to where it served as her beloved nest. Earthly nests are, by nature, transitory, though they bring us much contentment while we have them.

I needed to move, of course. Apparently, just after we had moved in, Ellen told her sister that this house was too big for us both. She never said anything to me about that thought. But I certainly, on my own, don’t need a house this big; it takes a lot of energy, money, and time to keep it up. I have found a sweet cottage near my new love, and am looking forward to our living near each other, as we build our lives together.

I’m looking forward to fixing up that house for me, individually – something I’ve never had a chance to do before. I learned a lot from Ellen about how to do this, of course. She left firm imprints of her esthetic vision on each house where I knew her – the loft on 13th street, the wonderful house in Berkeley that she designed and created,  right from the studs, and this lovely, sprawling ranch house in Chapel Hill, where walls, bathrooms, and windows will carry forth the beauty of her (then my) design sense expressed concretely in a dwelling space. The next house will not carry her imprint, only mine. This is the end of a story.

I can’t help the tears that flow as I say good-bye to this beloved place, honoring our past love and her memory. Beneath the sadness, I also feel joy to have a new life under construction; I feel enormous gratitude for all that I learned with and from Ellen, my Bubbele, and for the love she shared with me so generously, to enable me to move forward in a promising and positive direction.

Daffodils and camellias are blooming in the yard at the new house where I’ll be moving in a few days – promising a bright future.

Companionship

Companionship March 5 2010


Spending time together – a flock, a pack, a family –

Restores a place that’s deep within.

We’re not designed to live alone –

We don’t stand and fall all by ourselves;

Instead, like flocking birds and fish in schools,

We align with others,

Exchanging energy and molecules --

Finding joy as we sit quietly together

And breathe in harmony.


A quiet time in company

Soothes the soul and heals the heart,

As peace suffuses us.



Reflections

As citizens of the United States, we learn from an early age the value placed on “rugged individualism,” – the ability to be alone, live alone, succeed alone. We are praised for our successes alone, for the competitions with others in which we stride ahead alone, claiming the prize by ourselves. Yet, the opposite model – the team, the family, the collaborative group -- seems to bring us peace and contentment – even joy.

I’m writing as I sit in a lovely study, lined with elegant bookshelves, the ceiling fan stirring the air ever so lightly, a lamp beaming down on my laptop. I’m in the midst of family – sharing the moment with a dearly beloved person and our dogs. The place feels nurturing and the passing time brushes our peaceful spirits with a velvet hint of infinity.

Tomorrow’s turmoil will arrive tomorrow. Right now, I revel in the feeling of love and peace.

Building

Relationship March 5 2010


It’s not simple, falling in love.

There is that easy magic carpet feeling

Where life takes on new colors and new shine.

But to make the easy dream become reality,

We stumble over time’s inexorable scarcity,

We build the sacred bower, even as a bird --

Piling on one twig here, another there –

A shared experience, a smile, a loving choice, a glint of insight,

A private word, a surprise “I love you,” A helping hand,

A change of habits to transform two lives into one that’s shared.

Each piece is buttressed by the next

Building a stalwart, safe retreat

Within the other’s arms and heart and joyous choice to be together,

Becoming one, becoming love.



Reflection

Nancy and I have been going back and forth in Limbo, staying together first at the house of one, then the other, across a section of our town, several miles each way, dogs in tow. It’s hard to remember to replenish what’s needed at each house, so we don’t have to make added trips to get necessities. The sweetness of feeling the other’s energy next to ours, of sharing a bed and conversation over meals – this is a strong motivation to keep the pendulum swinging between our houses. I’ve now found and bought the house across the street from hers, so that our trysts can be more convenient. It’s not time to move in together, and this seems as if it might provide a helpful assist in building greater closeness and shared perspective. I wanted to downsize anyway, and it was time. And this is a lovely house that I’m looking forward to inhabiting.

As we stumble through the first months of relationship, I begin to remember the detours that Ellen and I had taken, and to respect and honor even more the patience, generosity, and commitment with which Ellen and I both had collaborated to build a strong and supportive relationship. We had to want it, and we did! It followed our wanting, and became a reality. But it really wasn’t an instantaneous “falling” … it was an enjoyable yet patient building – a construction job. Building what we wanted was incredibly rewarding. It made us happy in ways we would never have known if we hadn’t put forth that commitment. I once told Ellen I hated processing. But ultimately, the process of growing into love as we actually learned to build relationship was fascinating, and I learned that I don’t hate process – in fact I rather like it.