Coffee
this morning in the green rocker facing one of my early paintings, “Spirit Speaks.”
I read and write down insights in my journal while sitting in this old rocker between jaunts
outside with the cats.
Spirit Speaks |
This
morning, George encounters his father, a huge tom that saunters silently in slow motion like a leopard.
Shadow jumps on the latia fence, lowers her body and tries to be invisible.
I
was going to protect George and then noticed with much surprise, that he and the big tom were
trying to work out a way to share this territory. “Big Boy” growls and sprays
the Chamisa to the side of where George is laying and then lays down behind him. They sniff
each other cautiously and the big tom saunters away carefully turning to look
back every few steps. George follows him across the cul-de-sac and I hear yowls
coming from a patch of sunflowers. However, this time there is no fight and George
returns in a few minutes.
The
morning is still cool but summer enough to leave the door open so that inside
and outside blend comfortably. There are ecstatic waves flowing throughout my
body this morning. This experience comes in pulsating surges lately. The most intense episode
was about three months ago and then it gradually faded into to my ordinary
state. However, the experience remained in memory. Not just mental memory but
my entire memory, physical and emotional as well. I was not disturbed when it
began to fade. I intuitively knew that it would return from time to time and
that it was not a state that should ever be constant.
This
morning I realized that depression, which I've experienced much of my life,
comes from external sources that are trying to neutralize and eradicate me. This destructive power resides in several erroneous assumptions partially synchronized with
cultural beliefs and partially with family conditioning. I suddenly feel foolish
for being victimized by such dubious sources. Then a moment of clarity flashes like sheet lightning and I can see
that this identity is like old paint wearing thin and now chipping away in chunks to reveal
something entirely unexpected but stunningly palpable.
I don’t own myself!
Only this ego created by the illusions of family and social habits then rendered
by my incomplete child self believes there is a factual form that is I.
Since I don’t own myself or anyone else, my charge is to be
an experience within this multiverse of brothers and sisters that encompass the
countless throng of beings expressing the creation we share.
Since I don’t own myself and am a product of millions of ascending
years molding and shaping the manifestation of multidimensional powers extending
beyond this universe, my consciousness becomes a tool of creation. Boundless powers
invigorate the universe and all spring from the ONE.
Since I don’t own myself, this cloak that is my body transports
my initiative to unite with the Universal Oneness within this instrument that
is I in a form that is forever morphing.
I am but a minute pixel in a great holographic image. I am
all in greatly abbreviated presentation. However, I am much more than a
biological machine as the scientific orthodoxy might define me.
The machine is a crude replica of me, as I am a crude replica
of the ONE. I cannot create anything that I am not, nor can I un-create what
is. However, I can jumble its various expressions
into parts that seemingly conflict each other. This I do by living the Universe
in bits, yet this is a judgement by one holographic particle within the illusion of separation from its essence. This is the “I am apart” of original sin.
Amazingly, that I can be alienated from the ONE is a miraculous
manifestation of the ever-becoming One. The great fall that split our
consciousness from oneness is also the unique miracle of creation. We carry onward
the original complication of separation, thus enabling the Universe endlessly to
swell in beingness.
We are one and one falsely separated by that most famous
cunning serpent that awakened the temptation to taste a flavor beyond paradise.
Again and again, we repeat this adventure with the alluring taste of
separation. A sweet taste that becomes
bitter in time.
Splitting into pieces sparks longing to restore oneness. Separation
from the ONE explodes into love and hate.
This Original Sin fires the engine of creation again and again and
again.
The Universe is alive and so is each holographic pixel in
creating the whole picture, otherwise how could I be alive and how would I ever
notice that you are alive.
I have a shadow. That way you can tell where I am in relation
to the light. Dark and light express from one, but light is power, dark is effect.