In the Hum of Creation

I'm in the hum of creation, writing down to my soul. The currents of the mystery are pulling me down and down. To what, I don't know. But my body and mind are gladly going with them. The ride isn't smooth. Inspirations are crashing into me and I'm banging into them. Preconceived ideas are rattling loose, stripping away what I know, revealing wellspring energies surging into form.

In this hum of creation, I'm diving again and again. Plunging into the unknown, I'm making the crazy attempt to translate what cannot be grasped into words and images that describe the indescribable. I'm swimming toward pearls that prove nothing while opening to everything. Why? This is what I'm called to do, beginning of story.

Within the hum of creation, the world is crashing—nuclear meltdown, revolution, battles for freedom and campaigns to take it away. Everywhere, voices are crying, "Help us." They call me from the depths. I burst through the surface, look around and stare in stunned silence at the scene. "What's the best way to help?" my heart aches. No answers come.

Then the hum of creation pulls me back down. In the currents, I look for ways to see the way through radiation to radiance, through revolution to renewal. Will I find them for myself or anyone else? I dive again, pray what I do will make a drop of difference and remember the lines of the poet:

What we choose to fight is so tiny!
What fights us is so great!
If only we would let ourselves be dominated
as things do by some immense storm,
we would become strong too, and not need names.

When we win it's with small things,

and the triumph itself makes us small.

What is extraordinary and eternal

does not want to be bent by us.
I mean the Angel who appeared
to the wrestlers of the Old Testament:
when the wrestler's sinews
grew long like metal strings,
he felt them under his fingers
like chords of deep music.

Whoever was beaten by this Angel

(who often simple declined to fight)

went away proud and strengthened

and great from that harsh hand,

that kneaded him as if to change his shape.

Winning does not tempt that man.

This is how he grows: by being defeated, decisively

by constantly greater beings.

THE MAN WATCHING by Rainer Maria Rilke

The Courage of Tenderness

Matisse's chapel in Vence displays the courage it takes to create from tenderness. So much architecture is made from coolness, calculation and brute force. This has its place, but Matisse made a place that welcomes the whispers of the soul. It's a sacred space designed by a wise child. It's the art of a master who explored color and form until everything that wasn't essential was stripped away, leaving only pure, tinted light. In contrast to the dark, womb-chamber cathedrals throughout Europe, this radiant space invites gentleness in to play. The vulnerability, usually hidden in shadowy passages and armored by massive stone walls dances on a raised, glowing altar. Every detail shimmers with innocent openheartedness. This includes the vestments Matisse designed for the clergy here. Instead of the traditional black or brown robes, the artist fashioned ceremonial capes with festive colors and floral motifs reflecting the playful stained glass windows. In a world that celebrates heroic acts of explosive art, the courage to listen to the subtle, yet powerful, murmurs of the heart and the skill to translate that elusive strength into a compelling human sanctuary is astonishing.

Healing the Wounding Divide

Here is a recent interview I did with PlanetShifter.com Magazine

http://www.planetshifter.com/node/1783

Your Treasure Is In The Space Between

Life is in the space between. We focus on words, people, clothes, houses, cars, jobs, food, trees... Mostly, we dwell in pauses; we inhabit the openings between gestures and relationships. In traffic, in line, at the desk, at the table, on the path, we wait; we stare out the window; we muse; we worry; we laugh; we confuse; we clarify; we explore. Most of the time, we ignore the gaps. In our ignorance, we miss a major aspect of life.

If we do acknowledge the space through which our lives travel, it's usually to escape, to find peace, to get away from all the stuff. What we miss is this: the space between is filled with life. But the knowledge, laughter, beauty, practicality and poetry in the intervals cannot be recognized by our minds. It speaks in a language that is not hearable, touches us with caresses that at not tangible, offers us guidance with signs that are invisible.

Acknowledging the space between and allowing yourself to rest within it transforms your life. I'm not talking about retreating to the meditation cushion, the studio space or the forest. Here, now open to the opening... Let it in... A silent explosion rocks the visible world... "Lifeless" objects speak... Being blasts through all becoming... The hidden treasure you've been searching for is revealed.

Facing Change in Your Cave of Beliefs

Light cannot be seen without shadows. The brighter the sunlight the deeper is the shade. After the glow of the holidays and the effulgent hopes for a new year, Monday morning comes. Bright resolutions for a fresh start collide with the old patterns you wanted to leave behind. Yet, the path ahead is surrounded with the attitudes that structure your framework of perception. The new diet, exercise program, goal accomplishing routine or whatever transformational behavior you undertake passes through this cave of beliefs. Wishing it isn't so doesn't dissolve their limiting shadows. No amount of figuring it out or transcendent sidestepping will slip through their grip. Heeding the advice "the only way out is through" couldn't be more relevant.

The existing form of your life cannot be reformed until the solid images defining your world become transparent to the light of the consciousness that gives them substance. This can only be achieved by entering your cave of beliefs, engaging the play of shadows and seeing they are made of withheld light. This may seem spiritually romantic, but its scary as hell. Old limitations are more cherished then we admit. Otherwise, they would slip away like old skin sliding off a snake.

Facing them head on and shining your consciousness into hidden places takes courage beyond the everyday. Wanting to run is natural. Striding into the darkness sets your heart pounding, knees shaking, palms sweating. You know the rest. You've seen the movie heros confronting their demons, wielding their swords, slicing open the illusions of danger, revealing that the feared enemy is a reflection of oneself. Your task is to express those heroic powers on the yoga mat, facing the blank page, making the cold call, responding to soul's song while the mind is screaming its doubts. Then, gazing into your cave of beliefs, you may remember that attitudes are not cast in stone. They are merely forms of consciousness. They were shaped within you and can be reshaped there.

To Grow, Your Shell Must Break

This video leaves me in awe. Sensing the power within the fragile form pushing its way out of the shell is an encounter with mystery. All the wisdom schools and books of insight pale beside this living teaching of how life grows through itself. For the bird to become what it is, the tiny creature shatters the shell that originally nurtured its birth. This being has become too big for its existing framework. Despite all odds, the bird's soft body presses against the hard shell. Its spindly legs flex; its soon to be wings expand; its head and neck stretch. The life force is unstoppable. Pressing, pushing, twisting, doing whatever it takes to crack that damn shell to be free, to move toward flight.

Every one of the countless birds around the globe come into the world this way. Again and again, life bursts the safety of its shell to set out on a great adventure. Some birds fly thousands of miles on yearly migrations. They soar above mountains, across rivers and over cities. They stop in unknown fields, find food in unknown forests. Back and forth, high and low they move, weaving the global web of life again and again.

In this new year time, you have the opportunity of this little bird. You have the chance to shatter the shell that once nurtured you, find your legs again, stretch your wings and set out on a fresh journey of discovery. You can cooperate with the life force pressing from within you to burst the shell of your worn out beliefs, routines and structures of protection. You can reach beyond the limits of the old year and enter the unknown possibilities of the new. Enjoy your journey. I look forward to seeing you along the way.

Architecture of the Solstice

In darkness we stumble.

Confusion has no path,

unknowing, no arrival.

Then

a glow

in blackness

a point.

Murky

awareness

twisting

within

murky

awareness

spies a reflection

of its buried spark.

The hearth

of this ignition

is an alignment

of the eye

through

frame

to

distant

blaze.

Due to earth's miraculous tilt

wherever you stand

at the solstice dawn

the glow emerges

due east.

Since the first dawn

the eye

framed this dawn

with stone

with timber

Framed it

with the mind

as if guiding

strands

of heat

into the soul's

dark well.

As if

this elusive moment

could be grasped.

The architecture

of the solstice

is not

in the position

of the stars.

It's in

the alignment

of

the eye.

Turning Darkness to Light

We separate darkness from light. We avoid one and celebrate the other. Yet, year after year, nature carries us from radiant summer days through winter's dark nights. We fight the winter shadows by stringing lights on everything in sight. The glow is cheery, but it blinds us to the gifts darkness hides. If, however, we can rest within the shadows of winter for a while, we will be warmed there by secret fires.

Dividing darkness from light doesn't protect us through murky passages. It cuts us off from energies concealed by nature's mysteries. Only by entering darkness do we encounter the ever-renewing source of light. The secret we can discover there is the secret of creation—radiance is ignited by darkness moving within darkness. We are invited to participate in this hidden act of rebirth during these long winter nights. The inward turn of our minds and bodies reflects the circling of darkness upon itself. Darkness rubs against darkness, potential scrapes potential. What seems to be a cold abyss warms and bursts into light.

Don't try to understand this with your mind. It's logic doesn't reach into the unknowable. During these inward days, let your senses enjoy the magnificent displays of light. And, look beyond them into the shadows. There you can find the true magic of darkness moving within darkness, igniting the embers of the coming Spring.

How Something Becomes Holy

Something becomes holy

by offering it to wholeness.

You offer it to wholeness

by burning it

in the fire

that does not separate

sacred from profane.

Each time you toss

a cherished object or belief

into the flames of life

your gesture weaves

your separate mind

into the memory

of its unified source.

What you offer to life

already belongs to life.

The more you prize

the objects you offer

the stronger the reawakening

of oneness.

Your most cherished object

is the illusion

you are separate.

Burning this illusion

does not diminish you.

It merely removes

false coverings and divisions.

In the rising flames

limitations become spirit

ashes become gems

all things become holy.

Secret Gifts You Give

Look carefully at enough architecture around the globe and you will notice a pattern. There are patterns everywhere. Whether its this panel from a mosque in Paris, the curtain wall of a downtown skyscraper or your bathroom floor, architects and builders cover structures with geometric designs. It's as if a few thousand years ago someone started The Pattern Project and said, "Here's a circle, a square and a triangle. Go out there and see how many permutations you can make." It's as if countless artisans in all times and all places heeded the call and went mad with delight about what they could shape with only a compass and a straight edge. The results are magnificent and there's no end in sight. Without knowing it, each exploration of pattern added to the global treasury of knowledge and wonder. With each new permutation of design, every designer spontaneously enriched the world storehouse of wisdom.

These secret contributions aren't limited to geometric patterns. Whatever you do each day—cook, write, heal, inspire, facilitate, organize, or one of countless pursuits—you are participating in an ongoing project that is deepening and expanding human possibilities. What you discover as the years pass is forming and reforming the world in seen and unseen ways. It grows from knowledge unearthed by anonymous ancestors in the murky beginnings of time and extends through anonymous descendants in the unforeseeable future. Whatever you do, you are not alone in this. You are a member of a lineage that has been pursuing knowledge in your field for generations. No contribution you make, however small it seems, is lost. Every nuance of knowledge enhances the collective awareness of humanity making its way through the world.

As you go about your day, notice how the fruits of this global knowledge project pervade every place you go, every object you use and every person you meet. Notice the multitude of contributions of know how you have made and are making to your home, workplace and community. Notice how the world is made of the patterns interweaving with patterns and feel you connection to the unfolding creation.