The Smell of Rose in Our Nose…

Highs and Lows,

Highs and lows… line and shadows

Highs and Lows,

Highs and lows…

Seems to be the way it goes.

One moment it’s beautiful fragrance is tickling your nose…

The next, a bloody finger,

We’ve found the sharp side of the rose.

street performer

Ups and downs, Ups and downs,

We climb so high, yet still hit the ground.

While we’re up the views can fill us to the top,

While we’re down we think; ‘What’s the use? Let’s just stop…’


Life is easiest when we’re at the peaks,

The smell of rose in our nose,

and the setting sun’s gentle rays upon our cheeks.


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‘We have it all!’

‘We’ve got it made!’

But just like the rays of the setting sun…

It can be hard to see our Joy,

The moment we’re cast in  SHADE.


SO?

Light a torch!

Bring a lamp!


The time we use in preparation for moments of darkness

is equivelent to the time we will spend in the shade thinking

 ‘We CAN’T!’

The skills we hone become our light.

The soothing glow of a fire, throughout the night.

They can keep us warm, and push back the fears,

taking off the painful edge of cold, and help ward off the tears.


But honing skills is one of many acts to choose.

We can use moments to sharpen our axe,

or let it rust away,

while we time abuse.


street performer 4

A man sits alone, in darkness,

-Tense-

He listens to his mind at race

street performer 3

 Another man sits alone, in darkness,

-Smiling-

a fire’s gentle glow upon his face

We Are as Good as Dead


Spontaneity,

Improvisation,

Lack of attachment,

And making the most of what is in front of us,


life through the window

Spontaneity,

Improvisation,

Lack of attachment,

And making the most of what is in front of us,

while working only with what is at hand.

Some call it ‘going with the flow’…

I call it being Alive.

geese man and crags

When we are not grounded in the moment,

and our minds are adrift on the currents of past and future,

We are as good as dead.

Dead to those around us, dead to the beauty happening within our reach,

Dead to the endless current of Happiness and Joy forever flowing in this time and place.

lillies on the water

It is as if we have already passed

– ON –

Done with this experience and moved to another.

But really, we are just shut

– OFF –

We are Shut out, and Shut down,

Turned off of the moment,

Turned on by the thought of something else . . .

Golden hour in the Hills

Something more,

Something better,

Or perhaps the pending disaster of something worse.

Either way, we are off running,

in the shoes of the mind.

Either way, we are on a trip,

‘Anywhere but here is fine!’

Stuffed

WAKE UP!

We must arrive!

There is no such thing as time!

While we’re off with our minds,

Running . . .

We could be standing,

Still,

Alive.

Cals floating calm

No longer dead to those around,

but waking up to

Thrive.

cals happy


a conduit for Joy and Love


BRIGHTENING

– UP –

OUR LIVES

paradise

Obtaining Happiness Begins with Realizing We Already Have It

Happiness only exists in solitude.

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Happiness only exists in solitude.

To be alone and conjure Happiness is a blessing.

Happiness is a state that begins within, and rises.

As it is practiced, it fills us furthermore.

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Through many moons and celebrations of birth into this plane, our practice of happiness fills us to the top.

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From there it spills out upon the world around us,

leaving all with a gentle dew,

made perfect to catch the light,

adding wonder and Joy to where ever we may be.

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When we look back upon these places and people,

With their wondrous glows,

And are in awe of the Happiness that we once felt in their presence.

— We can Appreciate —

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That it was the spilling over of our own Happiness,

From within,

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Which lent them radiance,


And allowed them


~ To Catch the Light ~

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The Repercussion Of Inaction

Here or there. Today or tomorrow. 

Whether we believe it to be possible, or not.

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Here or there.

Today or tomorrow.

Whether we believe it to be possible, or not.

Without action upon our ideals,

All but one possibility is lead to death.

We stay.

We do not go.

We do not see.

We do not be.

Stagnant we become.

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Following through with the same dead routine.

Looking out upon the world.

Looking out upon the blur of life,

as it streaks across our viewing glass.

Awaiting our last day to arrive.


We are all human.

We are all going to fall.

We are all going to fail.

But we all get to choose whether to roll,

or to thud.

Whether to carry our momentum,

keep moving, or to be stuck.


A life lived is one full of energy,

A life lived is one full of motion,

A life lived is one full of momentum, forward…

Being human, falling, and failing, are intrinsic to life.

But with this experience also comes opportunity;


Action or Inaction.

To Roll or to thud.

To look to the Stars, or to look to the mud.


STARS small

Obstacles are intrinsic.

Action is not.


Begin again.

Begin again.

Begin again.


Today.

Now!

No Matter What You Do Today…

Happiness. Fulfillment. Love.

Selenite


No matter what you do today…

Do it with the burning passion of a thousand Suns.

Place the total sum of your being into whatever is before you;

Singing a song, Breaking through plateaus, or tying your shoe.

Give it everything you have,

Leave nothing behind,

And I promise you;

Happiness. Fulfillment. Love…

Will be all that remains.

What are we then? If not the thoughts within our own skulls?

We are not the voices in our heads

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We are not the voices in our heads.

A take on the physiology of the brain:

Spinal column, fish brain, reptilian brain, avian brain; and the final frontal cortex, the mammalian brain. A perfect mess.

Clutter

Each a unit operating with independence.

Each a step in evolution,

Of physical form,

Of Consciousness.

Each a part, operating with independence from the others,

but coming together to form a union,

reaching an agreement,

as the intelligence behind our unit.

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This unit is our physiology.

This organism formed in union is our body.

Would we not all agree that there are intelligences at work within us that we know nothing of?

We do not need to ask our blood to flow,

our stomachs to digest,

nor our wounds to heal…

They do it for us.

Billions of years of consciousness moving through form.

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Natural selection, genetic evolution,

Whatever it took to survive.

Whatever worked best.

They are what they had to be.


They operate for us, but are not under our command.

They each have a function,

They each have a purpose,

They each have a voice.

All these tiny voices pulling us each and every way.

All the tiny voices; ‘You should go!’ “You should stay!”


So,

What are we then? If not the thoughts within our own skulls?

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We are the Silence between.

We are the hearer of voices,

We are Presence observing it all unfold.


These voices will go on telling stories until the end of time,

But it is up to us, centred in this new found Presence, 

to choose whether to listen.


THE SILENCE Behind it all….

We are not the voices in our heads,

We are the space that allows them voice.

-SPACE that allows them VOICE-

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These Small Victories are What the Day is Made Of

The day is composed of many small victories.

Rope and Soil Detail


The day is composed of many small victories.

Each one of them first conceived in thought,

Then through action and focused attention, they are brought to life.

If we choose to take note of these victories,

Both in Thought and Spirit,

We grow.

Consciously realizing our own process of Creation.

 Joshua Tree

For me …

This is a very fulfilling way to be.

Taking a moment,

Here and now,

To appreciate the close of one chapter,

and the Embarkment upon the next.

Joshua Tree Detail

Lighting the stove.

Allowing time to boil, as well to steep.

When we breathe in the scent of our creation,

As it first touches our lips,

Then we drink it in.

Becoming lost in the process as it unfolds.

Only to Enjoy the last draw,

As we realize it such,

Knowing the process has reached completion.

 

Peel peel peel

Breathe in …

Exhale,

… Ahh …

These small victories are what the day is made of. 

 

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