This house of Love

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Truth
Hope
Faith
Honesty
Courage
Vulnerability
Compassion
Care
Passion
All intentions of Love
Gratitude realized
They are the foundation
Upon which we build
Each supports the other
Builds upon each other
Seamless
The mortar between
Made from their union
A blending
Truthful hope
Hopeful faith
Faithful honesty
Courageous vulnerability
Vulnerable compassion
Compassionate care
Careful Passion
Passionate love
Each stone with deep roots
Based in experience and understanding
All firm
None are loosened by illusion
Or fantasy
Each floor laid
With deliberation and purpose
With careful design
The plan determined
By each preceding
It grows
Stone by stone
Board by board
With every loving action
Every caring word
Touch
Kiss
Passion
Floor upon floor
Rising endlessly
The walls form
Where floors end
Yet have no limit
Rooms without walls
Walls without ceilings
One with Gaia and the Universe
It is a house of Love

 


 

Image: “Solitude” by Christine Lantz

 

 

 

 

 

No news is good news

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“News”
Is a modern thing
Based on gossip
And lies
Sent on waves unseen
Carried by sponsors
Who want me to buy
The product they proclaim
Will make my life better
So long as I listen
Or watch
With horror
The news designed
To modify my thoughts

So I don’t

I don’t need anyone to tell me
“The world is ending!”
If that day comes
I won’t need to be told at all
Not at all

Instead I create this place
Where there is no hate
Where there are no lies
No commercials
No sponsors
No hate
No one to tell me “You must”
“You should”
“You can’t”
Only Love
And the intentions of Love
Because nothing else matters

This is why I write

 

Since I started publishing my writing I have been getting responses that, to be honest, I don’t really know how to respond to because I had no idea the effect that revealing my soul would have.

After receiving this message from one of my readers (who really should be doing her own writing) that so gracefully sums up everything I have been hearing I have decided that the best I can do is to let each of you know that you are not alone in the way you feel by sharing her words (with her permission, of course).

Every one of us, myself included, longs for the sort of love and passion I so often write about. It’s not just okay to feel that longing, I encourage it. I say embrace it. Let it become the light that shines the way on your path. Let those awakened desires and enflamed passions provoke you to release the person you’ve been keeping locked up out of fear or shame or guilt or doubt or whatever reason it is that you have chosen to lock up that beautiful goddess, the wild woman, child. Let that light bring you to a place where it can join with another or many others and shine the way for everyone you meet. Let it light your world.

My wish for you is that you love. Someone. Everyone. But mostly yourself. Love like there is no tomorrow because Now is all we have and right now you need Love.

You are perfect as you are. You are ready.

You are loved and in that Love we are One.

James

 


 

A longing for the deepest of all connections had taunted her for so long, she had given up…. almost. No longer looking, she resigned herself to a state of perpetual suadade.

What she had learned is this – she couldn’t exist in a relationship that functioned at only a surface level. Long ago she had tried. Talking only about mundane chitty-chat topics, gripes and irritations of the day, silly plans of the next acquisition, negativity, rigidity, disapproval and controlling behavior – she had listened accommodatingly all the while feeling her life force slowly withering. The stilted unease of being with a pessimistic, shallow person was artificial, stifling, claustrophobic. She could no longer breathe. She heard a faint whisper that grew louder and louder until her survivalist instinct was shouting at her, “There is more to life than this!” She finally listened. Love is not a tool used to limit and oppress. Love is a wonderment in its beauty, vast and enveloping with its sweet, gentle warmth, ever-changing, ever-expanding, infinite. She had a clear vision of the type of love she sought, but no idea as to how or where to find it.

Not that she didn’t try. But as she journeyed, each crest presented a glimmering landing that evaporated as she moved towards it. She bemoaned karma for its unwarranted unfairness, repaying her kindness and compassion toward others with but false promise and no substance each and every time. “That kind of love is a mirage,” she defiantly declared. But inner voice be damned, its persistent denial wouldn’t allow her to believe her own lie. Her soul still ached for that rare, ancient connection – two beings recognizing in each other their own self. So unfathomable in its rarity, so unspeakable in its mystery and yet for those who have found it, so complete in its simplicity.

Certain of its existence, she rationalized that perhaps she wasn’t ready. And so tucking it away deep inside, she went on with life. The longing lay dormant yet omnipresent. Alone, but not really lonely, she spent those years observing and reflecting. Where had she been? Where was she going? What was her destiny? Surely it was one of her own making. That she knew. Had she known at the time that each disappointment taught her secrets she needed to move incrementally closer to him, she would have realized that karma is just and never capricious. Only when you are ready will you find that which is your destiny.

And then, she read his words. He spoke to everyone, and yet he spoke only to her reaching deep into the innermost part of her soul. Joyful tears welled as she read and understood completely each and every thought. His introspection, honesty and courage ignited her. The life force flickered and danced within her. I’m not the only being who needs this to feel alive! Without even knowing her, he had offered proof positive that this depth of emotion exists and is a necessity for those who feel it. Resolute, she decided to resume her quest. But first she had to thank him…

Thank you, James, from the bottom of my heart!

***


 

You are so very welcome.

Beyond here be Monsters

rio.grande.nm

A little piece I wrote this seveal years ago when I was facing the necessity of rejoining “civilized society” after being off-grid and pretty much off the map for a time.

It’s interesting to go back in time and find these little sparks that encouraged the flame within that burns so bright today and to recognize the dark places they came from.

The lesson for me is clear; embrace my past and be grateful for what I learned. But never go back.

___________________________

Here, at the edge of the world, I find contentment and chaos. Old friends, both. Neither expected nor warranted.

I find myself frozen in this pivotal moment. Momentum gathers with the clouds that seem determined to follow.

Not long ago I sent them back to spread their seed of malcontent upon the shoulders of those who manipulated. The cries of their masters, now quelled by the wind that always lives in the canyons where I take refuge, were never heard. I cry instead for them.

Here, where the Universe Herself sings with such beauty that my soul aches to touch Her just once again. Such things may not exist.

Here, I am at peace.

Here, standing at the brink, I wonder; Stand or Fall.

Beyond here lay the rest of the Pack, ferocious and cunning and ready. I will join them for now, but they will know; I do not belong.

My guise will last, my purpose will be fulfilled, and I will flee to the Refuge of Love with Life renewed and Balance, at long last, achieved.

I will stand.

Light within.
Love and Life beside.

The view at the edge really is not so bad.

 

Image by J.M.Greff

Surrender

leonardo-i-viktorija

 

When I first set myself upon the path of change I’ve walked for some time now, I knew the way would be difficult. That it would, at times, be impossible. That life would throw up roadblocks and obstacles. Life has not disappointed me in that regard.

The harder I try to become who I am meant to be, to fully realize my birth right to peace and happiness and love, the more life throws up these detours. I have worked with them, carefully gone around them, changed course as needed.

I now find myself at the edge of a high ledge overlooking a dark expanse. I have travelled to the farthest reach of this path. In that dark expanse lay either all that I’ve worked for or something unknown or unwelcome or nothing at all, and the only way I will know which of those will be my future is to jump.

So I surrender.

To surrender means to accept that I have done all I can do. That I have done my best. That my best is all I can and always should do. That my best is always good enough.

To surrender doesn’t mean that I give up hope or that I stop doing my best. It means that I relinquish control because control is an illusion. I can guide my life through my intentions. I can choose how I respond to the things that happen in my life. I can not choose those things.

In maintaining that false sense of control I create conflict both internal and external because the two are intertwined. Connected. One.

What happens in my life affects me internally and how I deal with those things affects me physically. There must be harmony between the two. Balance. That balance is maintained through my works and deeds and practices and also through hope and faith.

The faith comes from a lifetime of experience which has taught me that even when the outcomes were less than optimal the Universe has never once let me down. She has always been there to catch me when I fall, to set my feet upon the path, and to lead me with her loving light.

I will follow. I’ve come too far to stop now. I have prepared myself as best I can for whatever lay ahead and though I am afraid I am fearless because I know I am ready for whatever lay ahead.

I will leap into that dark expanse and new paths will be revealed in the fall. New directions. New life.

So I surrender to the Universe. She has gotten me this far. She will not let me fall into darkness.

 

 

Hope

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I am taken by a calm of soul this morning. A peace which has eluded me for some time. So rare that I barely recognize it.

It penetrates my inner being through all layers of Self though it was born in an acceptance of that most base Self, the Shadow. That part that is child, artist, the voice of passion and impatience and arrogance and outrage and fear and shame and doubt.

I confronted it last night. Drew it from the depths. Acknowledged its fears. Gave it voice. Listened. Offered it compassion. Love. Then put it to rest because I am not my Shadow. He is just a part of me.

The calm I feel now is a jewel, a treasure of unimaginable value, it is Hope.

Not just Hope for myself but for you as well.

I know what it is you seek. You seek the life you never thought possible. The passion you’ve only read about. The commitment of heart and soul that you know exists but have never experienced. I know this because I seek it too and that is what gives me Hope. It means I am not alone. Neither are you.

Be willing to confront and embrace your Shadow, that inner voice that tries so hard to convince you that you are not worthy, that you will never receive the love you so desire, that your time will never come. It does this because it, too, wants and deserves your love, your affection, your attention, and, truly, your gratitude.

Listen to it. Treat it with the love you want in your life, and reassure it that it will never be alone because it is you. In loving and bringing compassion to that part of Self you love yourself and in loving yourself you keep Hope alive.

Have a blessed journey.

 

Why I write love letters to myself

message-in-a-bottle

 

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.“
– Buddha

I love someone. Deeply. With all that I am and all that I will ever be.

I do not know this person. I have never met her. I have no idea what she looks like or how she speaks or walks or where she works or what her favorite color is, but I love her. Deeply.

I sometimes write her letters to express the love and passion and desire that I have for her.

I do this for several reasons;

  1. It helps me to learn how to love her better:
    Writing allows me the opportunity to “review” my intentions. I can look over what I’ve written and see both my strengths and weaknesses.
  2. It helps clarify those things I need to do for myself:
    In reviewing them I see, in black and white, not only those things that I need to do for her, but, since our partners serve as mirrors for ourselves, those things that I should be doing for myself in order to be more prepared to love her unconditionally by loving myself first.
  3. Because the desire to “be loved” is as important as the desire “to love”:
    Desire, though detrimental to living, is a requirement of love. It is only through embracing my desire “for love” that I learn “to love” completely and unconditionally.
  4. Because passion requires an outlet or it will whither and die:
    Passion like any other emotion, is not just something we feel, it is something we express. In writing these letters I learn how to more fully express my passion and that passion, one of intimate love, carries into everything I do.
  5. How I love the person I am with, love being an action and not a feeling, affects all of my relationships from friends to family to the cashier at the coffee shop.

We have all been around people who exude that glow of fresh love. We have all basked in the heat of their passion. Been lifted by the energy of their desire. We have all basked in it.

I love that feeling and I want others to feel it. To benefit from it. I want people to smile without knowing why they are smiling when I am near.

Does it make me a little insane that I want to feel this way even though I am alone? Maybe.

One thing we can all agree on is that love, at least according to my interpretation of mental illness as defined by the Canadian Mental Health Association  as those things “…that affect the way we think about ourselves, relate to others, and interact with the world around us”, is madness.

I accept said madness because it is my hope that in writing these letters, like messages in bottles, to my unknown beloved that she will hear my call, and that in preparing myself I will be ready when she arrives.

 

 


 

Note: I decided against submitting this article for publication several months ago because, honestly, I don’t believe I’m qualified to write self-help articles, especially when they focus on the unusual sort of help I offer myself, but mostly because I lost faith that “she” would ever hear my call. I post it now because it turns out she may have been listening for me all along.