LOVE’S SWEET BREATH

"White Mane" by Donna Bernstein, (Used with Permission; www.donnabernstein.com)

I’ve been in development. The chaff is shaken from my life. What mattered was engagement and being there: for others, animals, world; and yes, for me.

Okay, maybe that’s the crux. Despite efforts to the contrary, my needs were put on the “back burner.” I’ve been in a shift for years.

When my body first got sick, this lesson came: “Be she who is Sacrificed, Martyred or be the Server.” With early life training in the first two, I thought I had transformed.

As samskaras go, this complex was formidable. (Samskaras: Sanskrit word meaning inherited previous-life tendencies that are the psyche’s impressions.) It was quite a storm.

This past year has found me receiving. Receiving love, grace, gifts, generosities, acknowledgement, wisdom and encouragement.

A week ago, I found a gift of desert-colored socks in my mailbox...along with a beautiful card with a horse on the front. My friend wrote: "Let this gift be a symbol of a universal law; 'Ask and you shall receive.'”

Dan Fogelberg wrote this in a song: “Changing horses in the middle of a stream gets you old.” That’s true. It gets you worn and hungry, too. And through others’ love and faith in me, it's getting me free. Old, it turns out, is a temporary condition.

I once saw my life five to fifteen years out and was given road maps. Now I sense opaque openings of light and hope that guide me into new moments.

Before, my practice was breathe in and breathe out. Notice. Be aware. Imbue uplifting passages into my mind and heart. Discover my place of belonging. Relish relationship harmony.

Now it is different. Breathe in and breathe out is not mine to do. It does. I allow. My highest calling is love. Love to me. Love to you. Love to our world. Love to the cranky neighbor who complains. Love to the Navaho Nation, the trees, animals and their people:

http://www.naztoday.com/news/assayii-lake-fire-update----june-p-m/article9987e6d4-f697-11e3-b0a9-0017a43b2370.html

Love to people who curse life. Love to those who don't. Love to family. Love to birthdays. Love to animal stewards. Love to those who kill. Love to the peacemakers. Love to organizations hoarding money. Love to new work honored. Love to wading into new pools together.

I wrote this poem in praise of this fresh air that is blowing through me:

Winds Countenance

Winds countenance

Deliberate, swaying,

Gentle in freshness

Of airs

Wiser than I it seems

Who lies best

Happily always

Fully embraced

By penetrating heat

Of Mother Sun

The wind awakens me

This hour

To freshness of day

Hints of dewdrops

An invitation to climb

Wind calls me from my place of rest,

Covered as though I am

In spiritual words that drink me

I know their cup of

Freshness needed

Reawakening vast souls,

In modern light

Hopkins, Chief Seattle, Jane

Goodall, Thoreau, Emmett Fox

Twelve steps, twenty and eight

No wonder I need breeze

Welcomed stirrings

To pull me out

From my den

My old life passed on to where all incarnations go when complete. So did the personality structure that housed it. Chunks of me disappeared. I do not need to divorce or harm my ego to gain new ground. That is not the way.

LOVE is the STRONGEST of all POWERS...ego, fully embraced, gives way as rivers merge into the SEA. Love is bigger than all negative conversations, images and events.

We need a renaissance. That is what I learned, stripped down. We don’t need to fight for the animals, the world or ourselves. We all do need infusions of love.  

How about you, Reader? When has your life been stripped down, transformed? When you were infused with the sweet breath of fresh air?

CEREMONY

In ceremony the pictures of my heart could be seen without my having to speak much about them, and I sighed with relief at being deeply known.    

                                                                         Kissed By A Fox by Priscilla Stuckey

January 1, 2014 is a gift I still am receiving. A blessing to sit in circle with friends tucked in our respective places of nature, engaged via the modern miracle of media conferencing. As a gift, Andrea tells this year’s story in A New Start. On our call, she said, "We always get a do-over;" I felt a chill. We all get a do-over; none of our best efforts gone awry trashed? We all get do-overs. That is the beauty of January 1. 

I have been in the business of granting others and myself do-overs. But, I was unprepared for my recent do-overs. Ready to ramp up reorganizing my work life, I was halted. Move in a new direction something deep inside urged. Friends and mentors told me to write poetry and stories. I told them that my life is serious; I have obligations. Writing needs to wait. Not so said the poems and stories that flooded in. In my holiday blog, IT IS ALL ABOUT THE BREATH, I did write of my trip to Sacred Camel Gardens. It was interlude.

That is what my life begged for, more interludes. What is an interlude? "A short piece inserted between the parts of a longer composition." 

I had been in the practice of giving forth my best contribution in answer to needs requesting to be met. Somewhere in the middle of a sentence, a hand was placed over my mouth and that practice curtained. 'Receive more give less,' was the message. Huh, I thought I was both receiver and giver. Not so was the reflection back. 

New Year's Day, a wealth of gifts, all unexpected pours in. My neighbor’s best Vegetarian Pazole. My niece and nephew and families present additional holiday gifts. Home late, I discover a gluten free brownie hanging like an ornament on my door handle. A host of fire logs on my back porch just because she told me. Add to this being whisked off the following day by another friend to our favorite Indian restaurant gifted more with Tibetan incense, to start the New Year off right. My heart is full from New Year Day Ceremony and the accompanying cornucopia.

This magnificent interlude: gifts prancing in from all fronts, a compelling break from old life, in the midst of its vast do-over, is this bridge to 2014. I said, "yes" to these gifts like the little Shih Tzu, who stayed with me recently, shyly creeping down the hallway when invited in for a cuddle. It’s like that you know; receiving is delicate business. It is an unbridling interlude to new life.

That is how my new year is progressing. How about yours? I don't know what 2014 holds. It is clear it is secured and full of abundance.