Friday, October 22, 2010

checking in.....

the worship of light continues.....

less and less to convey

dreams within dreams
dead owls in both the waking and the sleeping states

iona finds this cat outside the police station
in their garden
it is trying to catch a fish
she brings her home
we call her bones
put her on a table with some water
she rests her head on the bowl -
drinks lightly
manage to feed her a tiny bit
when the sun goes down or should i say when the earth tuns and hides from the sun -
she is handed to me

wrapped in a towel, i hold her on my lap
she puts her paws in a prayer position
looks at me
and then vacates that body........
that life that animated that body disappeared in a second
there could be no doubt that death had occurred
- the light had dissipated

this blessed preparation for the inevitability of death.

seedlings planted
mulch cunningly procured
river stones harvested from dry riverbed
and rain clouds holding a promise

kids stretching vigorously
me limbering up, seeking greater flexibility
watching them grab onto to life as teens
immortal, fearless, and more alive than they will ever be again....
and 'me as mother' meeting fear again and again
only to land up laughing.....
at the absurdity of anything not being absolutely perfect
as it is.....
without the stories
without the bringing forward
without the resistance

just this arising - just this that i am....
the witnessing

witnessing the raising of the first chilean miners ascent.

playing at being creative....

a musical muse appears

and on a final note using this space to find a friend work.
meet jaqs - mcgregor volleyball team or sacred order of the round orb.
he has done 1 year apprentice blacksmithing.
it is his dream to continue this craft and yet there is no one for him to apprentice to here in this country that we could find.
he has sponsorship and would be able to fund himself for a flight and basic accommodation for a year in order to learn more.

he is a joy, inspired and i 'fear' if he remains here dormant, he is going to lose his vitality. can you think of anyone?

A mirage contains no water, just as a 'seeker' contains no substance.

Can you hear silence? Can you touch nothing-ness?
Can you grasp consciousness? Can you see yourself?
Can you stop thinking? Can you stop seeing? Can you stop hearing?
Can you be something that you are not? Can you become something other than
what you are? Can you do anything at all? Can you, as a believed in separate 'thing' ever find wholeness?

Awareness is the activity of knowing.

such clarity