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Favorite Aphorisms. . .
Favorite Aphorisms. . . We are the cabbage and the rose at once. Earthy and ethereal at once. ***** Memories are the bridge to the future. ***** To go over the same road again and again, until the pain as well as the joy no longer overwhelms, requires tough love. ***** Life was not…
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Time Is Now. . .
Events of this past week have shaken us all. Time is now that changes will be evident. Time is now that much will be demanded. And the young whose memories now of the violence that has taken their friends and innocence will demand restitution and behavior that comes with adulthood. The children shall lead us. …
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The Journey Begins. . .
(When asked often lately, how to survive as a mystic in today’s secular world, sometimes the questions just need a repetition of previous work. I edit for space.) Previous entry the Teacher speaks. . . When your mentor, the Nazarene, thought man should be accountable, he did not wish for man to keep coming…
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Differing Perspectives. . .
There are those who close their eyes to what it is they see because they know what they see will contradict what they choose to believe. ***** The look of innocence is the state of shock. That level where the soul has rested, the mind has stopped pursuing and spirit dares not delve deeper. *****…
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When Words Wound. . .Evolution Halts. . . .
Words Wound. . . Evolution Halts. . . Children are wounded when they first tell a truth that is uncomfortable or embarrassing to their audience. And no doubt it is a much loved parent the child is excitedly telling something. But realizing they are saying something hurtful or worse laughable when the child speaks…
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A Divine Surprise. . .
You know what I was thinking I asked my younger this morning. He grinned at me and one arm with hand out flat swooped over his head and then bent to the floor palm out. It meant to me that my explanations are hard to understand. I laughed. I was only going to say…
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The Mind’s Residual. . . .
The Heavens open momentarily and close but the glimpses from the views linger and haunt one forever. **** The Self wills but the human spirit cannot be legislated. Statistics are meant to sell beer. ***** It is not the Mystery of Life which stunts man and does not beguile him to further thought. It is…
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Rituals and Habits, A Practice of Life. . . . .
Habits. . . The thud of the back door as it swings shut, the sound of keys clinking to their place on the stairs, tell me even in my sleep, that you are home. Small things noted, giving rise to habits observed, a sense of ritual to a life filled with them. We continue rituals,…
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What Keeps Us Awake. . . .
To stand straight need not be at the expense of an other’s fall. It can be because of one’s need to reach higher than one knows. ****** Facing one’s self in one’s declining years is a task best left to those who point to the kudos on the walls. They have something to point to…
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And Sunday Comes. . .
Sometimes there sweeps over one a feeling saying ‘that’s how I always felt’ whatever prompts a memory. It could be a scent or sunlight or something triggering a wave awakening response long dormant. Often one knows where it originates but often the ‘always’ has no beginning at least in this lifetime. This following feeling is…