I was always given the stern speech to chase my goals, dreams, and desires. That sounded like the words of a genius until I complied and ended up in the middle of a burnt out road with smoke coming from my pipes, I was exhausted with the damn chase. Years went past driving in the fast lane without any desire for brakes before I realized something was missing. Making a conscious choice to understand the model of life came at a price, yet I was blessed to afford the knowledge. The pay off had arrived, finally. In this season there was no shortage of light bulbs going off and saying “AHA. Everything was an “AHA” moment and it made perfect sense. The bulbs were so bright it was blowing circuits. Everything viewed, touched, spoken, and experienced all made sense in a colorful way. It all happened when I decided to stop chasing and stand still as a lighthouse. I seen a quote saying,”lighthouses don’t chase boats to rescue, they just stand still and shine their light”. I don’t quite remember who the author was that put this quote out, but it was exactly what I needed to spark my torch. The nights of endless slumber vanished and my wanderings morphed into definitive destinations. Even the most minute happenings were viewed as increase. Some friendships began to sail out to sea, others were gently pushed to the shore of my life and my loneliness was filled with a subtle yet extreme satisfaction. I had arrived at the conclusion that I had chased friends, relationships, opportunities, and a many other things that did not want to be caught for so long. I had to make a decision rapidly. I decided to chase the one element that I hadn’t seen in quite sometime, self. I had become so tangled in the web of others lives and what they desired that I had lost precious sight of my design. It was a long gruesome battle to shed all the layers of clothing from a many seasons that I had collected, yet again, it was well worth it. I had worn the apron of motherhood, the cloak of a wife, the uniform of caretaker, the armor of a community advocate, the cape of a woman testing the limits of being super, and an on call volunteer wherever service was needed. This journey back to me was going forward and backwards all at the same time and became quite confusing during the drive. I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t regain the years lost. I could however emember the treasures that were buried in the past and dig them up with fervor. To sum the story up, it is amazing how much we miss during the high speed chase of life. In slowing the pace during the travel we open ourselves up to see a many amazing things within self and others that may have passed us by when we were in derby motion. We get the chance to enjoy the period of preparation as well as savor the true flavor of creation and service. The hours of a days time are spent serving self in elaborate yet simple ways never experienced. In the fullness for self we are excited to share this with others in words and acts of gratitude. The mirror of scattered energy now shows a picture of mosaic magnificence. The toll of life begins to return an investment of our sponsorships of daily love. This is when you know the chase has ended. Your desires have shifted from external pleasures into internal intimacies. Everything chosen is of a deeper desire, beyond surface value. Every experience is nurturing to the soul and supplies the well with an endless flow of wealthy beverages. You become the observer of your own transformation, the observed and obvious specimen of design. You fall in love with love, hold hands with harmony, release attachment of expectation with a full understanding that its delivery is destined, and you stand in the awakening that the sand between your toes is just a footstep away in the midst of all seasons. You accept that the chase is off, you have captured life in your arms. With permission and by right of birth you are entitled to all of its passion and pleasure. This is the end of the chase and the beginning of being. Welcome to Easy Street!!!!! Drive with Desire
Contrary to popular belief I lived the bulk of my days waiting for an invitation to dance. As a child, I freely engaged in ballet, tap dance, and was surrounded with artsy fartsy activities. It was a charmed childhood filled with creative pursuits and enjoying what I could not participate in by jumping into the pages of an adventurous book and becoming a character of color. At some point in my journey I hung up the ballet shoes, tucked the tap shoes away and retired my pom poms to become a mom and wife. My involvement in arts took backseat to the kids desire. After what seemed like a century I looked around and the kids were grown and my muse and music had paused. Scratching my head, I had no idea what I was gonna do with myself. I had spent all of my youth being a mom, a wife, a nurse, a caretaker, and a community advocate. Simply, I had forgotten how to dance in and out of routine. The songs sang during choir rehearsal had been retired with the custom made robe. Mentally, I was bewildered on how to return to me while appreciating where I presently placed. I can vividly remember all of the exhausting attempts to find my music. I visited different religions, dance halls, mated up with a many mixed drinks, changed my hair, joined a plethora of communities only to end up hungry for the next fix. The spark would happen a many years later while sitting on the couch in tears. I reluctantly answered the phone and was instructed to grab this book and read it. I had tried everything else so my feeling was, what the hell. The book was “Conversations with God”. This would begin the expedition of enlightnement that I am still currently on today. What I can say today is that I the music was always playing beckoning me to dance. The problem was the external noise of complaining, moaning, and dramatic screams that drowned it out. Then, the morning arrived just like every other yet it was drastically different. I woke up and set up feeling a dance within me that was undeniable with no ulterior motives or hidden agendas. That dancer within me was not taking no for an answer, I had to comply. As I hit the floor my life took my hips in its hands like a dirty dance routine yet it was sensually unique. There was no need for me to control a process that was so beautiful so I released myself to live, to dance, to sing. As the day proceeded, my body moved more and my diaphragm opened wider to sing songs of praise and love. My hand desired to write poetry again. Every fiber of my fabric had been mended as a result of me connecting with my soul again. What began as a war cry was transformed into an angelic applaud. I say this to say, it is common for the layers of life to pack on during the journey. It is my hope that you remember your dance, your rhythm, your song, your color, your paintbrush and canvas in the midst of your full service to all else. It is in fully serving your soul that you are able to extend this to others. How can we show someone a path that we have never traveled whether it was rocky or filled with daisies. When you are blessed to find your muse and music turn it up loud enough to where others will begin to tap a toe resulting in a dance experience leaving them ecstatically exhausted and smiling. When life invites you, invite a friend along to meet their soul on the dance floor of life.
Mentally, he had tucked her in a box never to be played with again for she was seen as broken. Physically, he only held a need for toys that functioned properly and would move at the command of his stern bark. She was only present as a gift of entertainment, for himself and faulty friends. To sit neatly, nicely, and silently within the corner placed until he could use her for his playful pleasures. She never minded being used with love, it was being abused that was not so useful. It brought him joy, but inside of what he viewed as plastic lived a heart full of rhythm. With every thrust, throw, and rip of arms and legs he destroyed the pieces of her that ultimately brought him joy. Until, nothing remained but a torso of twisted and arrested developments. Under the dust and debris he moved on but she couldn’t clear the negative accounts in her bank of memories with no protection of overdrafts. She held onto the memoirs of being whole again, the excitement of moving arms, flexible knees, and a mouth that opened to engage in colorful conversations and closed to listen with love and patience. She held onto the image of hands that once waved with harmonious hellos and giggly goodbyes, loving the comings and goings. She held onto the balloon of belief that she would soon soar. Digging feverishly through the other toys searching for her wings, she felt the favor in the forget me nots of herself. She captured the negatives and with fervor developed them into global images of resurrection. The tenure of being described as useful could now be seen as a reality of her perseverance. Seeing only what the sun of today beholds she welcomed a future of tomorrows as an expression of her everlasting return to evolution. His story of a toy was her-story inked in infinity.
When I think of feeding the soul it immediately brings a smile to my facial structure. Holding the word “feeding” in your hands and staring at it with gentle eyes is a moment of nurturing and sustenance. You are feeding it with vision, it reflects in your eyes. It is the window to all that is, your true authentic design. The feeding of the soul is a daily task that is completed from a many angles. Each soul has an acquired taste, a finicky palette, a response of gratitude when delivered delicate delicacies. You are soul, you are always hungering for more of what fills the center of your essence.
As I stand naked at the table of life with you today I am compelled to share with you what my soul has been craving for lately. Upon awakening the past few weeks my essence has been screaming to dance with the delicacy of sacredness. It signals me to go, stop, slow down while savoring the taste of all that is. As I fulfill its requests it begins to honor me with messages of gratitude and love to share with the world. It gently extends its hands that are overflowing with creativity for my personal use. It is a perfect system of deposit and withdrawal that allows me to benefit from the balance of being and doing, to serve and be serviced.
While sitting indoors looking out at the swirl of nature a many things began to make sense. It is the entrance points of our physical bodies where the ultimate feeding takes place. What is entering our ears, mouth, eyes, sensual temple? Is it pleasing to the soul, is it filling and comforting? Combining a daily meal for the soul consists of food, knowledge, and movement. These are the fun-da-mentals for a joyful soul. In closing, I have a profound faith that we all will begin to engage in a graceful matrimony with our true essence as we move forward on the path of return, the path of our blueprint. It is my honor to be a small drop of water in the vastness of the ocean that washes us with every wave. Namaste
Do you see your sight as being an important part of your everyday existence or have you forgotten its importance because it shows up and shows out upon awakening everyday? Have you ever stopped to question where you would be without vision?
I have come to believe that vision goes beyond the physical and whats in sight at that very moment. As I sat and watched things external of me take place on a daily basis I often wondered what the internal operations would look like if I could see them from another view. Was it a slow process, a rushed pace, did it work in harmony, or was it filled with confusion, fear, and anxiety. As I dug deeper into the realms of vision I was beginning to see it from a many creative angles. Metaphorically, vision is the vehicle that carries its passengers on a journey of adventure. It is a sacred trip with no complaint of taking the scenic route, it is making a willing promise to see everything in its path as beauty. Honoring our sight is knowing that the vision is greater than what we can presently see, it is finding balance in and welcoming the nears and fars. Sacred sight is the training of the eye, disciplining it with tender touches to only connect to what is pleasing and strengthening the pupil to pierce what is nurturing with passion. In honoring our vision we are completely engaged in seeing the cut, clarity, color, and class of all that exists.
We have entered into an agreement to be the observed and the observer all in one breath. It is courageously opening our eyes to reflect the light in the midst of darkness. Honoring our vision is simply and elegantly nurturing the images of greatness deposited within the soul that our body envelopes. It is sharing what we see with others that have lost sight with full hopes that the torch within our glare will relight theirs and spread like a wildfire. As we continue to honor our sacred sight we provide a healthy space for others to do the same. Our sight is the light in the center of darkness that shows the world the very fabric of our sacred structure. In closing, I charge you to gently rub your hands together and tenderly touch your closed eyes while breathing life into your vision. Namaste
Sitting with nature allows me to see life from a different angle. During a period of relaxing and staring out into the beauty of midday I was bestowed the opportunity to witness an amazing act. I had always watched bees as they went about their daily duties without questioning their greater purpose but this day was profoundly different. It was always my decision to move out of their way while outdoors and allow them to handle their business. The closer they came the more fierce my swatting became. I never questioned their attraction to me or others, never questioned why they chose to sting me or another. It would always be a form of attack to me when in all actuality it was not. On this day though, I felt the importance of their movement and was moved to know them in depth. Having the knowing that we were all designed to do something great led me to into a zone of discovery. It was my desire to see life from their view and become a visitor of their design. I found myself bouncing back and forth from google to silent inner questions as I continued to stare at their activity. After a combination of revelations the light bulb went off. They were here to serve, as we all are. Their service was to pollinate the trees, flowers, and nature to our benefit as well as the colony of their community. Seeing it from this angle removed any negativity of being stung, even that became painfully beautiful which caused me to smile with slanted eyes. Nature is our food that supports our present growth while providing us with all that is needed to further the growth of our existence. The bees don’t speak english as far as we know. They just operate within their design while intricately building and blossoming until their tenure is complete.
To sum it up, with every act of the day our goal is to fertilize as we move from flower to tree to family. We have a responsibility to pull from the sweet nectar of nature, store it for sharing, and ultimately build what our ancestors bees have left us to care for. One of the greatest revelations for me during this discovery was that specified bees have what is called compound eyes that allow them to see the world from a different view. On this day, I became that very bee and with honor have chosen to remain there since. As we continue on in our pursuit to discover and experience life let us keep the way of nature, pay attention to its movement with graceful eyes, and embrace its presence with warmth even during the cold moments. My hopes are that we continue to pollinate in love, fertilize with richness, and build with tenacity for self and others. In closing, I say with boldness, BEE all that you were designed to BEE and keep the stinger tucked away for the moment of necessity.
Today is a new day! Approach, love, embrace, and welcome it as a new beginning. Step out refreshed