My attraction to The Church has
meandered a bit.
As a youth, it was a curiosity: people go inside of a building to hear words and play music and they call this holy or meaningful or special?
All I knew was the joy of the wind in my hair, the sand under my feet and the natural sense of awe at the setting sun.
As a teenager, it was an anchor: I will cling to the church, its beliefs-rituals-assurances and thus take a moral high ground.
My family, as I had known it, imploded and scattered to the wind.
In my twenties, it didn’t exist: f*ck yoU-there-is-no-god-for-me-but-me-and-I’ll-do-as-I-please-thank-you-not:
I wanted experience, and I wanted it hard and fast – until I didn’t.
In my thirties, it provided useful contrast: I want peace, not promises built on the words of others. What am I? what is knowable and what is unknowable? What is freedom?
Am I coming full circle? Are we as a species coming full circle?
All I can know is my experience. Experience such as the wind in my hair, the sand under my feet and the joy of the setting sun.
Today is a great day to “Pirate up!” I say! to sweet the dust bunnies from my consciousness and allow my heart to lead me in the path of my knowing. I am noticing I said “my truth”, for truly, I can know no other. My experience is mine, and your experience is yours. We have different paths, perhaps, yet the same heart! This connection is so pure and so potent in its intent: love!
Today I am grateful for love without conditions. Today I pirate up and claim my self for myself. And you are included in this love, for there is no other.
The sun has always been my best friend. My body left the sun of my mother’s womb in the month of September. When I was three months old I demanded that my parents take me to sunny Florida so that I could feel the warmth of my friend in between the cold winter months. We would never part.
I take to drawing the sun. I liken it to placing a seal upon the letter of my heart. The faithfulness of my friend touches me deeply, and my drawings reflect the place of honor S/he holds in my life: Sun always beams over the land and trees that support and surround my house and family. Sunshine begets the rainbows and flowers of this landscape, and clouds and birds swim in Sun’s rays. I watch my daughter as she reenacts these same rituals, affording the same honor for Sun’s place in her vocabulary.
My memory floats between sunbeams: shining on the carpeting of my Grandmother’s living room, bouncing off of the lake at the beach in the afternoon, making mirages on the road, steering the moon through her waxing and waning.
Sun is present in my memories, in my hopes and anticipations for the future and between my every thought, my every breath. Sun shines on my moods. All aspects of my life feel Her touch.
When I learn about Sun as star, or that the earth’s rotation causes the apparent sunrise or sunset, I keep one ear closed. No thing can distract me from the intimacy or centrality of my dearest friend to my existence. Sun is holder of my days, keeper of my dreams, and the fluid of my life’s essence.
The colors that gather around a rising or setting sun feed my soul. I am heartened, encouraged, affirmed, and entrained in a frequency that I know and love: the frequency of I Am – existence for sheer pleasure.
Sunspots on my aging skin are a tattoo of the beloved. Freckles are the exclamation points. I will take Her for granted and sometimes ignore Sun, but I cannot, nor do I want to, escape the truth of the matter: We are already One and the Same
Enjoy the Sun exercise in any type of weather – found on my friend’s blog http://us.mg4.mail.yahoo.com/neo/launch?.rand=dvmc7p63gqrgl
Gathering my courage, I bequeath my earth life’s script to my Soul Group companions – a rowdy bunch of the most affectionate, talented, hilarious, fun-loving, punctual, silly, timely, obvious, demure, self-effacing jokesters this side of the veil (or not!) and jump into the birth canal to enter the “stage” of planet earth. I am birthed in amniotic fluid and blood. My red heart beats and flutters and I scream “bloody” murder! We’ve met – the FIELD that I AM and INTENT that I AM – and now it is time to rely solely on the very heart that self-initiated this human body that I now appear to occupy. This heart, this beating organ and this voice of my soul, holds me in its DIVINE matrix of the One. I let it. I rely on Red daily to carry me even as I carry it. We breathe together, dance together, we pump life-giving blood through the thousands of miles of veins and arteries and capillaries that comprise my circulatory system. My heart constantly tells me “I AM,” “I AM ONE,” and I believe it. I know it. At night, when all is quiet, I feel my heart-beat in all of my body – and listen to Red as it courses through my ears. It is mysterious, comforting, steady, subtle, strong, and MINE. We are so intimate. And I do not have to share with anyone in these moments of listening. I AM Rest. The red of Christmastime fills me with mysterious delight. The red of apples and strawberries infuse me with vitality and vigor. Red meat satisfies cravings. The red “wine” of communion brings joy. Red gives me the pride of arriving each month as menses and attuning my body to the rhythms of the moon and the emotional tides of earth. I am connected physically to both the female human animal and the female animal kingdom through these rhythms and natural blood-lettings. At self-appointed times I get to “see” Red in more intense or dramatic ways: a boo-boo on the fore-head (that leaves a nice scar where the third eye or sixth chakra would reside – a bindu!), some synchronous cuts on my thighs from an ice-skating “accident” during a family gathering and several knee surgeries, with, you guessed it, lots of blood! These moments served to part the veil between worlds when it seemed that matter was becoming too “dense” and so my connection to my heart continued to thrive. Less physical activity and more stillness of body led to more books being Red (read). I studied hard and learned to sing from an open heart (or course wearing Red gowns) the Italian opera heroines that seemed to suite my voice in university. Where will Red support me next? I contemplate wearing Red for my wedding day. It feels more honest to cover myself in the color of my heart’s currency on such a momentous day. My children are birthed within their heart’s code of Red and we know intrinsically that we are ONE in both flesh and spirit. Red and blue make violet and the Violet Flame Absolution ritual reminds me that I AM One in All – always and all ways. If water turns to wine and wine into blood, then every time I take a drink or bathe, I am absorbing more of my own heart. I am consuming my Self and we are ever full.