why i started

i want this to be a bucket list of meditations in the broadest sense of the word where my mind is quiet so that my awareness is freed if only momentarily of the the minds chatter. Castenada called it " stopping the world". In some non dualist traditions the question for contemplation is  "who am I" or "What am I" or "what is aware" "Who is the doer?". The answer will not be found in what is read or learned. Where does the answer come from?? Become imitate with it. What becomes intimate with it. Get lost in it? This process is like opening the door and inviting something (who am i?) in with absolutely no idea of what it is that you're inviting in.. It is as simple as refocusing  the input to see it as it always has been. Re-contextualizing  the perception perspective from the small i to the big I I do not look for beauty But acknowledge it where I look. below is a meditation from the beach. It was high tide and the tail end of...

 I always assumed that there would be a tomorrow until one day it does not come. A funny thing about getting old Is that I have had a lifetime to prepare  But am unprepared now that it's here.

To accept my power  I Stand in the bullseye of me as what I am That is where I aim. Sometimes,  the emotions of  my stories  Pushes my arrow off. In the  beautiful silence of windless days The bullseye is all know Because that is what l I am. empowerment It's a bumpy road With stubbed  toes And bloody shins. Its saying good bye to what I know and thought I was To discover myself that was lost and forgotten decades ago.

  The blackness of a cloudy summer night Where  that  which is known Remains unseen The trailhead shown by the flicker of a firefly. Comforted by a gentle breeze My cheek is wet with your   kiss  Within the   mist  a message I have been heard before, "Know me as I Am" Your presence is clearer when the mist of my  mind  is gone "I know you as I am" a  twinkling star The mist is lifting I see my north star I am publishing tis before its ready. enjoy thanks RMS RIP

 In the summer of 2020 I was walking down the beach when I received some messages. I did not know how to relay the experience artistically so I  put it away.  Now in the spring of 2022,  I fell compelled to write down what happened. I feel the truth will resonate .And I saw and see no way to write about what happened artistically. This has not changed. The messages were incomplete. I felt like I was listen to a distant AM station  on a mountain road.  While walking on the beach in the summer of 2020 I heard, telepathically, a message. "MAYDAY MAYDAy This is the captain from the Noah project. "  "captain you are not making any sense to me." I reply. "MAYDAY MAYDAY  This is a captain from the Noah project. I can no long contact other Noah project rocket ships.  We are the last surviving vehicle from the  project and we are no longer able to maintain our systems." "WTF is the Noah project?" "The Noah project was  a fleet of rocket ship...

 I do not know who or how people end up visiting. But thank you for dropping by. Take a minute and share a little bit of your story. And share your reflections on the post. Share what the post triggered. We grow and grow closer when we share.  peace

On Veteran's day  I felt the need to stop in a small boutique store.  While there a man  who works for Waste management entered. He  had just emptying the dumpsters outside. I said unto him, "It is veteran's day let me buy you a coffee?" "I can not take it. He replied. "For I am not a veteran." "But you know a veteran ,or have family that are Veterans?" "Yes my brother is a veteran." he replied. " So accept it  in your brothers name," And turn to pay for the man's coffee and the chocolate chip pumpkin bread. That evening the man from waste management was at his brothers house and told a story of the kind stranger. Listening was, Eve, his brother's youngest step daughter,  A seed was being planted The following was the original ending. I wanted  something softer, where the message was  presented within the story  more like a parable.   "I give it to you in your brother's name. So you know of the   joy of  a ...

    "Stand in love!" This phrase has power for me.  True.  "Stand in love?" Is an  invitation to myself  to  surrender? By stepping  into the heart,  I accept the invitation  And surrender  To the ocean of love.

I closed my eyes And go through the movements of tai chi on the beach I want to be invisible Unseen lost in her breast With each step  I suckle on my maker's milk Nourished  I grow With another step  I know nothing but her closeness

  I feel my life is a lie. Nice gestures are but sugar coated agendas Easier for others to swallow. I want to pull out the fibers of lies Woven into my clothes Holding them  together. Without which the clothes will freely fall from my shoulders. And I would be free Naked And me I see a life dotted  with lit candles each one an act of kindness Performed without fine print each one a shamash candle waiting to light another menorah

I walk away with wet eyes Memories Smilies Walk away accepting was never ment to be. Great ful for you leading me  down the dark steps To the  basement of my mind. To see furniture decades ago abandoned forgotten Now time to be cleaned or  taken to the dump. For no longer do they have a space Even in the  forgotten place  in my house. Thank you hun

I could not hear or understand the voice which  guided me. But  at eight years old I went to the rabbi and asked what is God.  I was taken Into a small library lined with books I was told by a Rabbi that I was too young to understand. Now some 60 years later,again  I ask.  What is  God.? For me  I see  him as a man Waiting at  an open window Before I enter My fears call me back. The house is  now hidden I am lost my mind's fields of denials There is the overgrowth with stalks of maise higher then my head. that keep me from seeing where to go or how i got where I am The voice which guided the eight year old still speaks But with age i am losing my hearing I am sure the house with its open window  still stands unchanged He is standing  watching, waiting. In the stillness of the early morning before I am fully woken I might  hear but a single note of his song  we will meet again.

  preliminary Sunrise at the beach for me is place where i have my conversations with god A time place where where the window of communion with the Devine  opens a little wider and an  opportunity for communication presents itself. I am not sure if I am jumping into this religious rabbit hole from which I will never  extract myself? What have I too  loss? Small steps of logic  lead me to a place I can no longer see from where I came. I am at the beach now.  Sunrise is in 20 minutes. A couple of spots of rouge on the horizon. Black storm clouds over head. Like the moth drawn to the flame that will consume it,  I choose the horizons like Pegasus I choose to step through the window and see.  I put one leg though the window. I fear putting my torso through.  His presence is strong.  He  holds the  window open. The dots of rouge are gone while the clouds remain. Until I am ready to step through the window which you hold open I ...

    Love thy neighbor as thyself. And thyself as thy neighbor.            227/2021 - 1 year later I rewrote some entries to document changes. I would like to think that there is less                             emotional regurgitating of doctrine and  a more authentic communication. . I feel instead of creating stories to tell others that I begin the practice  only having stories for God's ears. This is not a practice of avoidance. Nor is it an act of selfishness but of service. I see it as  a way forward in my life.  I choose to live my life as  a practice of God first. Doing so answers the question, "With what will I fill my heart.*          27/2021 My story's define me and bind me. For that security I surrender my freedom. BAD DEAL!! As for         ...

When I ask myself, "what is in my heart?"  I also ask  "what  is in my heart do I not want?" Those that are no longer welcome are like  or squatters  I once invited in. But have long overstayed their welcome and believe they to the the rightful owners of the space they occupies Stories are the doors I opened and through which they entered. They come less frequently. Or find another tunnel into the castle Or enter like smiling trojan horses How did they enter? What belief or needs invited them? Feel it! Be with it! Release it  the tunnel closes the masks fall away the need lessens  vigilance  impeccability there are no small choices this is  binary but the tide recedes slowly as i let go of beliefs. I no longer need.

By stepping into the heart   I Stand in Love I recognise the beauty of the sunrise. To its source I give thanks. And ask, "Who am I?". And He speaks to me  I am the birthing of the new days sun . " To Me thee will give thanks. In your gratitude I will meet you." As I do more work on myself,  I feel more the of agenda is being  set by the Divine. Only   He knows what path is right for me.  And though the sequence might not   seem  right or the most expedient to me,  only he knows what i need to do to navigate His path. It is egotistical to think differently.   Where is this going? What am I missing?  First answer  If i see beauty outside then why am I  unable to "see" my beauty within and use that to open the door to my own inner  divinity? Lesson 189 from the course in miracles  that says, "I feel the love of God within me now." As a seeker I feel the path of the seeker is difficult and arduou...

  "Stand in love".  This phrase has power for me.  Symbolically, By stepping  into the heart,  Spiritually, and emotionally  I enter a space of love. In the heart   I write  The first letter of ,  each daughter's name, "A" and "E". They are in my heart as they are everyday.  Today, together, again,  WE stand in Love.

  Help me to walk the path you put before me so I can live the purpose you gave me.

  I got home  my boots  were wet  my heart was full the smile of a child on my face The collapsing waves washing me with a salty mist Sprinkling me with water droplets before I can make my  retreat.  Pebbles being thrown up at me. The child inside is being reborn Being baptism by the sea

I want to jump in the pool But keep my head above water And see as if I am Submerged