ATTENDANCE

Modern life insists we are solitary specimens - mere byproducts of random chance in the all-inclusive Goldilocks paradigm. We  serve our  time, sentenced here after 3.7 billion years of un-spiralling DNA.  Love lurks as a complex mechanism of pheromones, subliminal signals & triggered orifice immersions. Our brains are complex wetware computers that create a facsimile of self as a biological safety trick to avoid the ubiquitous sabre tooth tigers & spitting cobras. Ever the doubting Thomas, I went along with this sincere puffery for too many years. One night in my solitary confinement  I became aware of a presence I could not deny. Not dreamed, Not hallucinated. Not imagined. In attendance. At all times. A fissure of light cracked the shell of my arrogance & all my former truths became relative. Insufficient. As if a match head were struck on the rough surface of the wall of a jet black cave.

DIVINE GODDESS

Binary. 

Yes or No. 

Either/Or. 

Once the question is asked there is only one answer. No ambiguity. Is the earth itself a living breathing being? If the answer is yes - is there a divine principle that radiates from the centre & infuses each & every fibre & atom of that living being we call earth? Last question: is that principle female? If the answer is yes to all three questions the Divine Feminine becomes manifest.  She has been present all along. Each breath confirms this. Each gentle breeze. Each pulse of the heart. Each ripple of each & every rain drop. All being emanates from her.  All becoming. She is always just beyond the veil of awareness. 

Watching. Allowing. Opening. Present.

GAIA

I, like you I suppose, am immersed in the narrative that what we humans do or don’t do, matters immeasurably.

A thread-bare waif overwhelmed by the sadness of the great desolation of the living planet - my current vision of Gaia. All visions are approximations - possibilities. The living earth - the Goddess Herself - laughs out loud at my intimation. The human story plays itself out within the embrace of a vast living system that encompasses the human tragic-comedy with one breezy breath.  

I ease back under the splash of the Milky Way galaxy in mid-summer. The Comet Neo-Wise is in the sky under Ursa Major for the first time in 6800 years. Seven thousand years ago, there were maybe three cities in the world - ten if you stretch the definition of city. 6800 years from now - Can you tell me where we will be? 

As Sherlock said “The game is afoot”

GUIDED AND PROTECTED

The cup that overflowed lies on its side - empty. The great bounty of the beautiful,  living earth becomes distant, untouchable. The heart succumbs to the sadness of loss. Grief.  Almost unbearable. The moment of complete aloneness.  It seems that Death will have its way. What remains in that desolation? What opens to the way of the heart? What certainty holds the centre? An abiding stillness.  The caress of feathers so light we forget they have never left. Not even for an instant. Not even in the time of our impenetrable darkness.

PANDEMIC

"Everything Changes."

Easy to say & think - until it really starts.  It has been coming for a long time. It had to come, did it not? It sped up & all of a sudden we are in a new age - on the other side.  We do not have the vocabulary, the protocols, the spiritual tools  for dealing with what is now expected of us. And yet, here we stand - resilient, adaptable. We persevere,   passionate for the transition to our next higher selves.  A new spiral for the turn of the helix.   It arrives. We know it in the marrow of our bones. 

BLUEPRINT FOR PERFECTION

THE SKY'S THE LIMIT

 Two summers ago I sat in a canoe at sunset on Anglin Lake in Northern Saskatchewan. The dragonflies had come out of their seventh moulting after four years under water. Thousands & thousands, clad like joyous mardi gras revellers, looping the loop & swooping the swoop. The mosquitoes were abundant. The evening was calm.  Male & female sought each other with kaleidoscopic abandon in their aerial courtship. I sat motionless in my light water craft, my paddle barely stirring the glassy surface of the dark water. Then it came to me. The dragonflies had one interest only - not food, not sunset, not love. They had discovered flight at long last. Three hundred million years in the making, the individual dragonfly rises out of the water. Those gossamer, stained glass wings. The 360 disco ball eyes. That aerodynamic, cantilevered body. Mother Nature, Gaia Herself, ever whimsical, perfected the nature of flight in an ancient, alien form then set it loose. The sky's the limit.