Well Doing

When you’re washing the dishes

You’re not just washing the dishes

You’re forming The Doer

In the manner of your Doing.

* * * * * * * * * * *

When you’re watching TV

You’re not just watching TV

You’re forming your Observer

in the manner of your Watching.

* * * * * * * * * * *

When you’re waiting in line

You’re not just waiting in line,

You’re forming your Physical Grace/Composure

in the manner of your waiting.

* * * * * * * * * * *

With Mindfulness in All Things,

All Things Become Sadhana.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Focusing On What You Do

And How You Do

Helps You Do

In All Doing

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Lou Reed

Lou Reed died today and I cried.

I thought it was going to be ok,

but when I began to start the day,

I just laid my head down, and cried.

It hurts.

Why?

I never met him.

But an artist can get so deeply into you,

you can’t not love him.

He can save you from pain.

He can comfort you,

He can lead you to imagine he would understand you,

the Different One.

A cool, experienced, otherworldly rocker

Keeping you company on a lonely night

with Strange Secret Midnight Conversation

After a rough break up, in a new town,

All alone, you’re not by yourself.

You’re in the world of Lou Reed, and his weird vibrations.

Rock n’ Animal was never my album.

He isn’t close in that album.

Its a BIG LOUD show.

Transformer is The album.

He’s right there, in the room with you.

That’s the sacred album.

I love that album.

I love that man.

I miss that man.

I mourn that man.

So,

Use it.

Give my gifts as he gave his,

Get my voice out, like he got his out,

And hope to someday be a voice, in print or in song

that can be a companion on a lonely night

to the Different One, no one gets.

I’ll never produce his cool vibes.

No one ever will.

But Lou wouldn’t dig an imitator.

Lou was an original, an Authentic.

And his example inspires me to give my Authentic Voice.

That’s what great artists do.

Inspire you to give what’s in you,

no matter what kind of weird that may be.

* * * * * * * * * * *

“Just a perfect day, you made me forget myself. 

 I thought I was someone else, someone good. 

 Oh, its such a perfect day, I’m glad I spent it with you.”

Mick_Rock-Lou_Reed-Transformer_Album_Cover

Suzuki at Sunset

His words stay.

His View Is True.

All Creation Through The Artist Is God. 

We say “I” made this,

Forgetting we are the little “i.”

Forgetting The Source,

We Become Attached To The Creation.

But it is only in non-attachment

We see its True Value.

Just Prior,

the Voice said,

Important is not a word for art.

Art is a child playing freely and madly with God.

In this play,

The child has the little role,

The Father, the Great One.

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Oh Jolly Playmate!

Today I had my Reiki session in Venice Beach.

Just typing that makes me feel like a hippie.

I came home and went on the balcony

To meditate on the moon

Out and Beautiful,

more than halfway full.

A warm dusk with windows open,

and people in the courtyard

* * * * * * * * * * *

I noticed something curious.

From my balcony view,

I could see energy.

From a tree across the street

Or rather in front of it.

It looks a little like static on old television

I don’t know how Reiki works.

I only know something is happening.

The energy that pulses through me in session,

is quite remarkable.

Rocks are used, touch, and occasional vocal sounds from this amazing healer

It reminds me of the Six Sacred sounds of Qi Gong.

And this ancient QiGong healing practice is reminiscent of Sanskrit chanting.

All sounds for healing the body,

and other things as well.

In different parts of the world,

In different centuries,

Long before we could have known one another,

Humans coming up with the same answers, same approaches,

Same Truths, Same Gods, different names,

Identical principles.

The ancient Vedas, the sacred I-Ching,

The pre-Socratic Greeks, the teachings of Buddha,

Jainism, all 52 Gnostic Gospels of Christ . . . and so on.

Truth with a capital T exists

But it has never been dominant in our culture.

I want to be one to help change this.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Bedtime:

I ceremoniously introduced three angels,

made known to me by my healer,

into my prayer life.

I’m open minded,

but angels by name, felt a bit Shirley Maclaine.

Yet  I trust my healer and devote myself to her guidance.

I found pronunciations for the angels’ names online.

(Ironically, from Shirley Maclaine)

Afterwards I was very tired and fell into a very deep sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I awoke after a long sound rest,

Feeling joy and the desire to play.

The children’s song, “Oh Jolly Playmate!” song was in my head.

I haven’t thought of that since pre-school.

In my semi-dream state hazily awakening

I had a very childlike free spirited vision of . . .

my Higher Self and I, singing this nursery rhyme to each other,

doing the hands and the whole bit.

Yes, the day began with visions of

patty-cake with my Higher Self.

In this confessional,

My abject Humiliation is complete.

(Ha!)

Truthfully . . . I didn’t mind the experience.

“Be as little children,” He said.

He knew.

Beneath Personality

Absorbed In Experience,

There is no Self.

Perhaps my angels are inviting me to come play in life.

Make Life Play.

And leave that heavy adult baggage marked “SELF,” behind.

And I say, YES!

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Calm.

Today I recognized

one of the things

that keeps me from Calm,

is an inner voice saying,

“You can’t be calm!

You’ve got to do this,

and what about that?

The list is endless, according to this little voice,

Endless reasons, endless tasks

And Calm, and the Joy born of Calm

Can only be permitted at the finish line

Where all tasks and reasons for no-calm are at last silenced.

But there is no finish line.

So in response to you, little voice

ever telling me my calm happy place

can only exist upon achieving

every single thing there is to do

I say this:

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Lo, Synchronicity and Doctor Poke-a-lot.

My Dear Imaginary Readers,

Isn’t acupuncture a curious profession? Gimme a dollah’ and I’ll stick ya’ with a pin. But that is where my path is headed, and not for the first time. I do hope I qualify as a masochist. I feel I’ve earned the designation.

I am dealing with a health matter, which I realize is one way the Universe might shake us out of complacency, and into Devotion to Soul’s True Call.

I haven’t felt every malaise to breeze through my existence to be an omen, but  this health matter I experience now I believe to be a Call. I’ve felt it from the beginning. A deep inner sense of, “Sleeper, Awaken,” has been present throughout. In fact that literal expression manifested through my subconscious upon observation of my once partner’s abstract painting, which was in no way was intended to convey such an impression. Truly,  predominately, we see only ourselves in what is before us, even our hidden selves.

Today I’d like to share an instance of Synchronicity, documenting one of infinite mysterious ways the Universe may move us. These instances of intuition, no matter how frequently they may come, always reach me deeply and awaken a sense of Love, Gratitude and Wonder. The New cannot wear off! How can we not feel overwhelmed-in-the-good-way when that Invisible Loving Force, Reaches down to us and says, “Here Darling, let me help you with this one.”

O! This is the True Love, and not only due to Divine Assistance, but for the gift of Life itself, and Nature and Beauty And All That Awakens Us to Authentic Gratitude. When we Feel The Great Spirit Close, every cell of our Being feels Love, and this manifests as Ecstasy, and I mean true Ecstasy, not that pale imitation in pill form.

I refer to that pure irrationally happy feeling you get when you see a squirrel . . . or maybe squirrels are just my thing. You, Imaginary Reader, you must know what I mean. Whatever your squirrel is: that something in Nature that makes you happy but you can’t explain why. That’s the glimpse of Ecstasy I mean. The unbridled joy for no reason, that the thinking mind cannot comprehend.

The Synchronicity on this occasion, began when I was guided to some literature that was eerily descriptive of my life at the moment it crossed my path. I was veritably reading a biography of my present, penned in  past by another, and in this work, a very different form of prayer was suggested. I felt I was to try this.

So despite The Lizard King’s stentorian admonition to the contrary, I Petitioned The Lord/Universe/YourWordHere, With Prayer, and quite candidly, Jim Morrison was wrong. You CAN Petition the Lord with Prayer!

As a constituent of the Universe, I sat down for my petition, as if at a Congressional Hearing, except I was on a yoga mat and Congress rarely is, although they’d likely get along better if they’d strike a prose and breathe now and again, but regardless-

I addressed God, The Universe, All Helpful Healing Forces In The Light, and I listed all the reasons why it would benefit The Entire Universe For Me To Be Restored To Full Health, the Primary Reason Being: the elevation of any individual’s consciousness in body, mind, heart, and spirit is the elevation of all consciousness, and in addition, empowers said individual (moi) to contribute greater gifts, for the benefit of all involved.

I imagined an enormous gathering of compassionate humans supporting my motion. The whole of my heart, mind, body and soul was in this prayerful petition. I really rather think I made a good case.

I even like to imagine my favorite late rockstar too was swayed by my devotion and took up my cause in the following manner: “Hey God, help her out, man. The most important freedom is to be who you really are. Let her be who she is again. Help her make it work this time, and not get swept away in someone else’s dream.”

(Playful imagination felt right for this petition, and who knows what imagination really is, or where it comes from? Perhaps imagination is prayer.)

So, what happened?! my imaginary readers inquire. Did it work? Did God reach through your ceiling and heal you? 

Yes, She did, but I didn’t know it then. What happened was, when I stood up after the petition, everything in my Fotomat sized apartment was precisely the same, except for one thing: The little temp gauge on my heater had suddenly stopped showing the temperature, and now blinked  the word ‘Lo.’ From the time I moved in, up until I began praying my petition, it was only displaying the temp.

Big deal, man.

Yes, it was. A bit later, me and a soulmate of mine, someone I had known for a very long while and connected with deeply, someone who changed my life for the better forever and I his, (that is perilous grammar I realize) had reached a troubling place. We had never been romantically involved, the notion was unspeakable, yet his platonic love for me and my role in his life was agonizing to his new wife.

We had become best friends and shared a playful connexion. I helped in his career. I helped him organize his public speaking. He helped me through some challenging times with great advice. Plus we just had fun and brought out the child in each other. (I don’t need much assistance.)

He could not help but speak of me, nor I him, (grammatically perilous I tell you!) and it occasioned his new bride the greatest suffering, even though we were each completely in love with someone(s) other than each other. The mere thought of kissy-kissy was as unthinkable to us as it would be between any two siblings.

Yet with the greatest grief I realized, *back of my hand, pressed to my porcelain brow* I would have to end one of the best friendships I’d ever shared with anyone. It was hurting his partner. I rationalized conversational continuance for a time, but at a point I knew this was not right. Marriage takes precedence. I ended a wonderful friendship.

It absolutely devastated me, and devastated him as well, yet we both recognized it was the right thing to do. I grieved and still can at times. Crying and all that rot, and his letters of grief, grieved me all the more. He has an unusual last name. For the sake of his privacy in this ridiculously long blog entry, let’s say his last name is Homminahommina.

Summer passed, and Autumn air arrived. I went to turn on my heat for the first time in months, and it did not work. I called the Landlord, and he said he’d have someone out the following afternoon.

I’m a late sleeper, but I felt I should arise early for some reason. (Thanks Intuition!) I did so, and the moment I was presentable, a knock happened upon my door. It was the landlord, who said he believed it was only the battery in the gauge on the wall that was occasioning the interruption in heat. A low battery would certainly explain why it was blinking, “Lo!” all summer, and I should clarify, it is spelled just like that on the gauge, Lo.

Pardon me while I climb up into the  heights of my pedantic pedestal for a moment. (I LOVE it up here!) “Lo” is an archaic term, used to draw attention to an interesting or amazing event.

(And where is that in this endless raving?)

And ‘Lo’ only appeared in my flat, blinking, immediately after my petition to God, and that is the Truth. This is where the Twilight Zone theme song comes in. This is where goose bumps arrive and my feet tingle like mad.

I told my landlord I could replace the battery all by myself. In response I got that, “Are-you-sure? You’re-just-a-helpless-woman,” look, which I find infinitely more nauseating than charming from older men, but I also realize I have no right to judge or vomit over another’s well-meaning-but-impossibly-condescending perspective.

In our brief exchange, my patriarchal landlord said he was taking his mother to an acupuncturist. I mentioned I was quite interested in trying acupuncture for my condition, and he said he would return later with a business card for the Healing Center. I told him I didn’t need the card, and would look up the name of the center online. (Even a helpless woman can do that.)

However, my day got rather busy, and I never did look up Stick-Ya-With-A-Pin doc. And at the end of that busy day, before bed, I prayed over the matters of my health, and I prayed over the soulmate friend I had let go and hurt and missed. “What am I to do?” I asked God. Letting him go felt like a Spiritual test I passed. But at the same time, I wondered, did I really do the right thing?

Then today, my landlord shows up out of the blue, uninvited, unannounced, unprecedented, and hands me the business card we agreed he did not need to hand me, for the acupuncturist. And guess what the last name of this acupuncturist is?

Tears instantly came to my eyes. ‘Twas the same unique and rare name, of my Homminahommina soulmate/friend that I had only just let go of and prayed for the night before.

Synchronicity.

“Walk This Way,” God says

(She’s a HUGE Aerosmith fan).

I have not been to the acupuncturist yet. My appointment is soon. But I am cured because I am Guided by the Power that can Cure, and being on the path of Healing is Being Healed. The only distinction is one of Time which does not exist, except in the mind of man. So I claim Health Now, and the best celebratory victory move for a word woman like me, is to write the longest run-on sentence in the history of blogging, naturally in the form of a synchronistic review, to elucidate the point that its really all quite logical you see. I double dog dare you to read the ensuing run-on, aloud, in a single breath, with a straight face.

Ready?

The Congressional Petition to God on the yoga mat with Jim Morrison created the archaic blinking Lo which lead to the landlord’s arrival which lead to the stick-ya-with-a-pin doc’s biz card with the same unusual appellation of the soulmate I had only just let go of so that the Universe might make way for this new Homminahommina to stick me with a pin for a dollah’ . . . or many dollars actually . . . for my fellow mascochists, I regret to inform you, the price of voluntary suffering has gone up considerably, yet that only makes it all the more painful, so Rejoice!  

Now Nellie Naysayer (presently gasping for air) will say, that if one looks for patterns, one will always find them, in absolutely anything and everything, and all this proves naught.

Yes Nellie, but I was not looking for patterns, and I am not basing perception on them. I am basing this sense of healing on this feeling, this Sleeper Awaken feeling, that yearns to help me recognize The Something More, that is guiding, not just me, and not just all humanlings, but every aspect of this Creation we share. And this Force reveals itself, sometimes in BIG ways, and sometimes in subtle Homminahommina-look-at-your-trippy-thermostat ways.

And how do we know the difference between guiding synchronicity and just coincidence? Presuming innocuous coincidence does exist, Intuition alone, the feeling generated by the experience, would be the decider.

This is not the first, and certainly not the most palpable instance of Synchronicity in this “strangest life I’ve ever known,” but it is the one transpiring Now, and Now is the only moment I have, so Now is the moment I Share, no matter how banal or peculiar, for it is the Soul’s Call to share, and that Soul’s journey is the journey I am at long last learning to recognize myself upon. Material Circumstance is the Effect, but Soul’s Call is Cause.

Now for you dear Nellie, I plight to return and tell you all about my stick-ya-with-a-pin session with Doctor Poke-a-lot, but if you don’t mind, my Intuition is telling me to stop sitting at this computer and go outside and see a squirrel!

“Dear Lord, will you please help her find a new favorite animal? I can’t take the talking. The ENDLESS Talking!!!” 

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