Bolo Bolo, Jaya Jaya!

Serenaded by ancient sounds
I am embraced by the sweet melodies
Of lullabies I only faintly remember
Softly hummed over snug blankets at
Some distant bedtime.

The song swallows my heart in kindness and sincerity.
It breathes a longing and a celebration.
The sounds are part of an unfamiliar language,
But I understand them as clearly as
A kind glance from a stranger.

"I love you"
"I love you" they sing
"I love you, and you make me smile."

I hear their sounds, their smile, their song
And I am swept away in
Bliss.

Found

A good friend once told me
In a moment of my frustration
"Mistakes Evolve"
Words to live by.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Lesson on Creating

Observe Beauty
Do not try to create art.

Each Atom in this Cosmos
Possesses Beauty.

It is the job of the Human
To witness this beauty
And do nothing more than learn from it.

If we try to capture it
As we would a butterfly,
After a long, strenuous chase,
We will end up with a case of wings.

Found as the only entry in an old journal
Dated Tuesday March 13, 4:00 AM (2001?)

Surrender

"The eye at the center of Her forehead is wide open, but none can plumb its depths. Its timeless, spaceless recesses exude an invisible nectar that is palpable but unseen. Under its intoxicating influence all beings are experiencing a transcendent Bliss that is indescribable. Excruciating fear and all-attracting Love are both dissolved in that state, which destroys the very idea of division. In the complete oneness of boundless peace, all comes to rest at last in total unity and the primal Goddess returns to Her own abode, the heart of [the God], as suddenly as she came without warning! The "revered spiritual father" who describes this awesome spectacle is no more than a child before Her. Gazing through torrents of blissful tears,
he manages to articulate only a few syllables,
chanting, 'Aum Ma, Aum Ma, Aum Ma', over and over again."

Babaji Bob Kindler
From Twenty-four Aspects of Mother Kali, pg 3-4
1996

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I give. I surrender. I allow myself to be swaddled, to be reduced, to be destroyed and rebuilt. I allow myself to be cared for, and to be loved. I allow myself to not do it all, to not be in control. I surrender and submit to the process, and to the patience.
I fear myself, I love myself.
I fear you. I love you.
I surrender.

Through my tears and frustrations I see you sitting patiently and smiling. You wait. You have seen it before, and are not threatened, or worried, or confused.
You wait and smile.

I finish my thrashing about, and you open your arms to me. I gasp for air, for life, for joy. I release into you, and feel my ego float away from me, carried by the tidal wave of tears. I feel your warmth and softness, and bury myself in it.
I return home, to the first place I ever knew.
I finally let you hold me.

All I can do is feel you, and breathe into your love.
I whisper your name over and over again.
I know that I am here, and I am safe.

Mom, Mommy, Ma,
Mamma, Mata, Madre, Mother, Ima, Mutter, Moeder,
Nancy, Rose, Norma, Lena,
Lakshmi, Maria, Kali, Durga, Kuan Yin, Freya, Shekina, Mokosh,
Thank you.

Jai Ma!

Welcome Home

I am sitting by a wood cooking fire. There are large pots resting on its iron grate, filled with enough stew and rice to feed the entire family. The fire warms my feet, and the delicious smell of the woodsmoke permeates my handmade clothing. The familiar texture of wool and the rythm of spinning fill my hands. As my spindle slowly drops to the ground, I let myself become transfixed by the fire, and am content.

Occasionally, I get up to stir the pots, filled with food and love. I lift the lid, and the smell of the stew wafts into the air and dances with the floating guitar melodies. A half-naked child appears and runs by me giggling. Two men sit on the ground playing a game, and a woman spontaneously starts singing while she chops vegetables.

I return to my seat by the fire, and continue to spin. I am with my family, and I am home.

Vermont Rainbow Gathering
August 3, 2008