We carry our balls and chains unconsciously, mostly; ideas we have developed that don’t match or support our authentic lives, which creates a friction to live up to an external idea as if it mattered or were real. What we want to actually do, who we want to be, how
There are a number of issues in my life right now that I feel are beyond what my little mind, comprehension and ego can possibly get a handle on. They are part of a trajectory in the universe that escapes any sense I might have of how to guide or
My Nigerian mentor and shaman told me unequivocally that all indigenous people know that the true thinking apparatus is in the heart, not in the head. The set up for the Western world for the most part is dominated by the thinking of the head, and is often completely out of alignment
Part of me has been in one of those constellations out there in the heavens lately, looking back at our lovely planet and the decisions we have made that brought us to here. Such a vast trajectory of time and space sets our course, and our little brains only pick
I have listened to a number of stories today, from a number of different people, all of which re-affirm in my reflection that I do believe that the world is with us and has our backs. It wants for us the highest good; that is its nature. This might sound
I have had the rare opportunity recently of hearing two different friends sing devotional chants that they have written themselves. Lindsay Wilson (musingsofthemaypop.blogspot.com) writes them as she takes walks or meditates or does chores, and will sing one for you a capella any time you ask. She’s completely joyful and
Sheesh, for a mountain girl my hillbilly side is getting a stretch workout today. Sitting on my couch this morning going through e-mails, one e-mail took me to my Facebook page where there were several loving messages waiting for me. Then on Facebook instant messaging a young woman who had
In excavating a poem I was looking for today, I re-encountered one I had filed written by Goethe. I was struck again by the last stanza of his poem called “Holy Longing.” This poem addressed me profoundly at a time when I felt I was suffering my own death, yet
Carl Jung warned of the danger in splitting off from, rather than passing through, the “inferno” of our passions. Outrage, anger, grief – whatever life stirs up in us – if not felt, assimilated and passed through consciously, “dwell in the house next door” he says, and at any moment
I just got off of the telephone from talking with someone very dear to me. We started the conversation because each of us had mentioned we had magical things that had happened to us that we wanted to tell each other about. This call was our time for describing them.