closer and closer.

when synchronicity swells and washes over.

i find it.

****

i'm sitting in seconds of pure light.

here it is... the darkest time of the year...

and i'm bathed in love and light,

and held like i was that afternoon on an island with turquoise water

and the softest smile just off shore.

****

you know that feeling when your throat closes in the rip of emotion.

overwhelming.

your breath catches in the half way mark between heart and head. right where words form.

when you have so much to say, then the words stop. your heart surges and splashes against the wall of what feels safe and what feels scary.

when you swallow that feeling, where does it go?

and when you release it? and the warmth of the crashing wave crests and falls easily down your cheek.... what then?

****

i'm standing here watching my ship come in.

so it is.

successes

"the secret of success is to be in harmony with existence, to be always calm, to let each wave of life wash us a little farther up the shore."

~cyril connolly

****

a few thoughts on this steely morning, where there's moisture in the air, and the world feels poised, and ready:

*which boundaries are guiding you towards your self?

*what spirit is moving through you?

*what will be your success today?

*how are you measuring success as you read this right now?

*what is the goal?

****

i'm watching smoke drift from a chimney across the way. and thinking about the spark... so it flares on the tip of a match (the smell that burns your nose a bit), adds itself to some fuel (wood, gas, paper), and grows.

and then what?

then, the fuel must change. it cannot help itself.

then the fuel turns to smoke.

rises up a chimney.

bursts out into chilled air.

releases.

dissipates.

dissapears.

the smell remains.

are you getting washed further up on shore?

remain calm, and true to your spark.

you are changing things, whether you know it or not.

so it is.

holy texts.

i'm curious.
i'm wondering.
what are your holy texts?
and. what makes a "holy text"?
if you were to gather up those books, those bits of paper, those photographs that make you think, feel, understand, question, and feel more alive... what would you gather?

the other night, i sat to write a ceremony. i gathered up my texts. i realized how there were some new ones in the pile. and i felt comforted by the ones that have been there for quite some time.

i really want to know this from you. tell me. what are your sacred, and most holy texts.

here's what i found in my pile (in no particular order):
*emerson's essays
*the essential rumi translated by coleman barks
*the mastery of love by don miguel ruiz
*the celestine prophesy by james redfield
*the soundtrack to 'amelie'
*the soundtrack to 'the piano'
*life prayers from around the world by elizabeth roberts and elias amidon
*the bridge of stars edited by marcus braybrooke
*practical feng shui by simon brown
*singing the living tradition (the unitarian universalist hymnal)
*you can heal your life by louise hay
*leaves of grass by walt whitman
*e.e. cummings complete poems
*the shawshank redemption screenplay
* the view outside my bedroom window
*the photo on the windowsill of the loves of my life

so.... there's the beginning of my list.
i'm ready to hear yours.

so it is.

heaven.

there are stars by the billions just outside my window.

how small can i feel?

with that expanse at my fingertips.

with those piercing pins of light peeking through mere panes of glass.

with a distance that presses down on my heart.

there is a vase of full and fat bodied roses at my side.

how held can i feel?

with their petals begging for a touch.

with the soft glow of light kissing on their color.

with a closeness of scent waking my soul.

so in the middle i sit. perched on the balance point between small and large, the mystery and the familiar, time and space and life and dying all in this moment.

and of course, love.

the distant light that holds wishes of masses (and mine). the stars that lend a little hope to the darkest nights. the night that remembers....

the velvet touch,

the unfolding and unfurling,

the opening of that place that used to hold tight.

i'm letting go.

stars. come on in.

petals. open up.

i'm ready.

so it is.