I am working on forgiveness. I am working on listening more. I am working on compassion. I am working on love.
I love working. It isn’t a negative or a burden, it is as my friend Kahlil Gibran says: Work is a flute with ohhh, no don’t have it right. I will look it up. Work is love made visible. I remember that part. Work is love made visible.
That is why I must stay true with my work, and why – it is so remarkable to know – people are showing up for my camps and asking me about coaching without me doing anything short of being true, remaining true – love the thought of being true and holding true and staying true. This is what I need, the who I am of it all.
Julie, without the eye. LOL. Trying to keep those pronouns off the most common lists.
Driving home from the Save the Arts rally at Empty Space theater. Thinking about how much that one particular person riles up my anger. Is it about that person or is it about my sadness that she was cast in such a pivotal role and then dishonored the craft when that is something unfathomable and foreign to the soul that resides here. That was a call, divinely, I am sure, to forgiveness. Yes.
In today’s Psalm – God’s love is meteoric. His loyalty astronomic. The soul that resides here says, loyalty even when making a regrettable choice. Perhaps that one particular person regrets, now, the actions taken and could retrieve great benefit from the compassion shared by many, perhaps. There are so many reasons to make the choices we make and without inhabiting that body, the sureness isn’t so sure, not at all. My fingers move. My words come forth. I stay steady even in the midst of curiousness.
God’s love is meteoric, note the slide right into the dreaded pronouns, without consciousness intervening or intercepting. How exquisite is your love, O God. How exquisite is God’s love, manifested in creation and in people, the Divinity – divinity-with-skin, unseparated.
David called. Invitation issued. Once again, invitation shot down. Need advanced warning, reminder. Spontaneity on a leash? Not sure what to name that. Want the spontaneous, not sure just how accurate or how pivotal or true that may be, exactly. How eager we are to run under your wings, like a mama with a wide skirt. Take me in. A fountain of cascading light. Lovely. oh. so lovely.
Keep on loving your friends. Do your work in welcoming hearts. Beautiful. I heartfully accept that task today. Keep on loving friends. Do work in welcoming hearts. Clean. Today is cleaning and straightening and preparing. Finding tools and leveraging them.
Tooling around in a purple wisdom carraige. Loving that fact.
The purple wisdom carriage. What a vision that gives me. Vision carraige. Perfection. Bliss. This month: bliss. Write it in the morning and post, share, grown, envision, shelter. Move. Grow. Bliss. Yes. Know. Hope. Live. Poetry comes, roles off the end of my texting. Need to write those onto the page, save, hold, love. be.
Two hundred twenty remain.
I type, move my fingers. Breathe into this exact moment to connect with that exact moment. It is strange, the agreements entered into without much thought, following my love and my fascination. The soul that resides here, that lives within and alongside and surrounding this skin, this human sanctuary – this space of creativity.
Where is my writing sanctuary?
It is wherever I am, wherever I go, wherever it is my pen lands. Sanctuary is a result. Join, collaborate, rejoice in the joining and the collaboration. Feel the giddiness that prevails. Home team advantage. Write. Love. Bliss.
Wisdom, compassion, forgiveness. The biggies. The lovelies.
Today I saw Jen. I made that sound that says “I see you now! Haven’t seen you in far too many preceding nows! Lets stop and step into more nows soon. Will you, please?”
That burst of air, that punctuation mark which says, “Surely, I will. Surely, will you?”
Love that burst of air, that punctuation mark, that squeak, that squeal. The soul that resides among and beyond these bones and this sinew says “Does memory hold that release of breath that says, ‘may this moment last forever’ and in doing so, the memory says, ‘indeed, it has – ’ this soul wonders, if it only lives here, for the woman, for the feminine, or if it stretches?
What does wisdom say? What does wisdom encounter?
Wisdom knows. Beyond the knowing and into the mystical. I scoop it up and look into it, look into the reflections to find myself and relive that moment. My heart is guided to other hearts, also looking, also inviting, also knowing.
Bliss.
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