Archive | January, 2013

The Punches Go Right Through

30 Jan

It is a magical, moody morning here.  My life blesses me with a ride to a central bus stop for my daughters on a road named Harbor View Drive, along which, we cross a marsh and see the sun coming up over the harbor.  Earlier this year, this ride was full of angry angst, but now, after all the learning and growing, this morning, we enjoy:  the clouds that hang just at the top of the trees, threatening rain at the same time the sun is rising,  reflecting water, exotic birds, and the plot line of a crazy show involving twins switched at birth, conveyed with dry wit followed by giggles.

Eyes cry, eyes dry, anger comes, anger goes, laughter builds, laughter fades…blessings to blow one away in every moment.

It is a very unsatisfying feeling to punch the air – I have seen that play out.  This morning I am enjoying the plateau in suffering and the view this stop along the mountain climb affords.

My sudden realization during Mooji’s brief talk was this:  the pain body of others is exactly the same as the ego/mind voice inside.    If there is nothing anywhere to be hit, nothing can land.  Boxing is no fun without an opponent 🙂 outside with the play of people or inside in the play of thoughts.

Who is listening to the outside voices?  Who is listening on the inside?

There can be no one home in my body and no one home in my mind!   Who is even talking now?  grin grin grin.

“Where is My Mind”

Oh – stopWith your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head will collapse
But there’s nothing in it
And you’ll ask yourselfWhere is my mind [3x]Way out in the water
See it swimmin’

I was swimmin’ in the Caribbean
Animals were hiding behind the rocks
Except the little fish
But they told me, he swears
Tryin’ to talk to me, coy koi.

Where is my mind [3x]

Way out in the water
See it swimmin’ ?

Barn Burning

28 Jan

Barn’s burnt down —
I can see the moon.

-Mizuta Masahide (水田 正秀?, 1657–1723)


(Winter Moon over Farm Field – Jill Battaglia)

My dear friend sent me this quote when one of the slates of my life was being wiped clean.  When I read the words of this tiny poem then, I saw the barn as my marriage and the definition of my life that I had held up to that time.

Now, a year and a half later, I see more.  This poem is actually quite large.

I see now:  I am the barn.  I am blocking the moon.  And I am burning down!

I know I am repeating myself from other blog posts, here,  but  I sense that I am getting this same burning realization over and over again, on finer and finer levels, until there is nothing to talk about anymore.  Do the fingers just go silent at some point?

I’ve been sent such intense, difficult, but perfect fires.  I see now why some call for trials; I see now all the constructs these fires burn away.

The barns of other people may be blocking their moons, too, but really, it’s my own barn that tires me so.

Oh, girl, go away altogether already.

I love the glimpses of the moon no barn gives me.   Imagine no obstructions evermore.

Let’s keep the fires going.  Come on over, but bring your own marshmellows 🙂


25 Jan

One of my favorite teachers, Stephen Levine, has such a helpful metaphor for accepting what is:  The Soft Belly.   After reading several of his books years ago, I realize I am still ever grateful for this instantaneous physical pull back into the moment, into acceptance and into softening, so counter-intuitive in our world of Hard Things!

excerpt from: Guided Meditations, Explorations and Healings, by Stephen Levine.

“The more one thinks that he or she is the body, the tighter the belly will be at times.  There are so many levels of letting go into the enormity of being, but when there is a holding in of the belly the heart is not so available….

We are constantly auditioning for the people we want love from.   Our parents, our children, our lovers, our co–workers, our mates.  Hard Belly is always auditioning, posturing, angling for control.  But this is it.  You’ve got the job.  You’ve taken incarnation.  Now, deepen soft belly to make room in your life for your life.”

Seems We all have a Buddha Belly we can rub for good luck 🙂

And suddenly a beautiful linking connection through the eye of M.


laughing buddha

The Flavor of Suffering

23 Jan


We have our own taste bud preferences for suffering.  The clearer you get, the more you can see them in yourself and in others.

These flavors, if indulged, can actually affect the earth suit, causing it to take on the shape of the suffering itself.  I once stood in line behind a woman in the grocery store who had the most strongly defined Martyr Mask I have ever seen.  Her suffering went something like,” I always do everything, but it is okay; Don’t worry, I’ll do it all, I  always d0.  You just relax, while I work.”  This very mindset was worn into the deep expression on her face and in her body.  In that moment, I wished I could massage the lines and setting of her very self, to see if we could smooth it all out.  She was alone, in a store, wearing her suffering like an outfit while those whom she imagined imposed upon her were no where in sight.

I can read minds.  It just isn’t that interesting, so I don’t.

People have no idea how much information they send out into the world through the flavor of their suffering.  Each mind in suffering is individual, but similar in a collective of delusion.

The Clear are sharing in the field of unity.  I don’t pretend to understand, but I know when it flows to me.

When I stand in front of the classroom now, often I no longer worry about what I know and what I don’t know.  I am often plugged into something beyond me that fills in the right answer at the time in a way I never would have “thought” of…there is no planning for that.  When I perceive of myself as separate, I can stop this flow, going for a laugh, thinking of something smart, worrying that I don’t know and I should.  When I am clear, none of those postures come into play and I tap into something beyond.

It is worth it to get out of the way and let it flow.  And the universe lets me collect the paycheck, though I didn’t do the work. 😉


Hey Mister can you help me sir I plead for your sympathy
Rains came pounding us down again
Your horizons they crawl up to my chin
I started to drown in your vision
I looked through your windows as they flew through the air
All I could find was a river in pieces

How long should we play the Martyr? x2

Hey Mister come down and see see your misery
Rains came pounding us down well again
Through your weakness I shed my skin
Open wide to my spirit
I looked through your windows as they flowed through the air
I was Left swirling in your pool of aggression
How long should we play the martyr?

Various unspeakable chants

Hey Mister can you help me sir I plead for your sympathy
Rains came pounding us down again
Your horizons they crawl up to my chin
I started to drown in your vision
I looked through your windows as they flew through the air
All I could find was a river in pieces
(c) 2002 Island Def Jam Music Group

Always Right on Time

20 Jan


When my kids were little, sick days – strangely – held a welcome clarity.

A day full of activity was instantly erased and turned into a day of service for the ill.   While I sympathized with their bodily suffering, selfishly, I enjoyed that I knew what I was supposed to do;  with absolute single-mindedness or even no mindedness,  I was to care for them.

Really, everyday, we know what we are supposed to do, but often it doesn’t feel like that.

I have the memory of floundering with questions throughout this life: What am I supposed to do?   How do I shape my experience?   How do I spend my time and energy?  and the dreaded,  WHAT IS MY PURPOSE?

Every micro moment of our now is a mirror of the flow of what is.   The Sick Day holds a clue for EVERY DAY.  For me I see that I am to Accept the Moment, the Flow, the Mirror of right now.

Sometimes, I am able clear the decks and merge with the flow.  Sometimes, I resist.

A recent example from my corner of resistance turned to flow:

I was late for work on Thursday.  I had a momentary knee jerk of the speedy, rushy, worry stress.  My body said, yuck, I don’t like this feeling.  This time,  I was able to see it, switch into the now and just observe the experience of being late, without attachment.  I arrived about 5 minutes late to a hallway full of students; we exchanged smiles and laughs while I unlocked the door and apologized for keeping them.  The experience was actually enjoyed, as there was no worry, guilt, shame, just flow.

Here’s a surprise:  the flow of respect and love with my students even increased.     It seems they felt closer to me in my imperfection and my comfort with that.  I saw that they also loved being able to forgive me.

But even if the reaction to my tardiness had been what one thinks of as unpleasant, that mirror could just be observed as well, without definition. The lack of attachment, though, often does seem to allow others to join the flow with me, I observe.

My purpose is to do this now in this body, to live it, to watch it, to experience it – all around me.  It is clear, moment to moment, we are always right on time 🙂

19 Jan

Thank you for this beautiful share this morning. My first time to reblog 🙂

Live & Learn

A globetrotting surfer seeking to catch waves in the frigid seas of Antarctica instead encountered a welcoming committee of penguins.  He didn’t catch a wave in the Antarctic waters, but he didn’t much care, calling his unforgettable penguin encounter “very special.” 

It’s about being out there having an intimate relationship with nature. At the very first, they were afraid of me…but then, they came around and played with me. They were really nice, really nice…It has been unreal.

View original post 93 more words

“I” have every reason to worry,

19 Jan

but i don’t.  🙂

Improvisation and life – YES in a body is grinning, breathing, morning tea, a bit of a thrash to Seeingm‘s share;  thoughts are a passenger in the backseat…Enjoy Spacious Satyrday!

The Angry and Peaceful Wolves of Parenting

18 Jan


Parenting is not easy.  I don’t know what I am doing.

The Angry Wolf of this job says, “I will not tolerate this behavior.”  The Angry Wolf says, “My Way or the Highway.”  The Angry Wolf lives in fear of ingratitude, threats to it’s authority, tarnishing of it’s image, mutiny, and failure.

The Peaceful Wolf says,  “Nothing can hurt me.  Nothing can ever diminish me in any way.”

Once this is known – suffering becomes a memory.  The threat disappears like smoke.

I watch myself and see joy, ease, compassion, often, no matter the swirling whirlwind of the suffering that comes to those in my care  from the confusion of growing up in our culture, in our family, with this Mother.

The sticky times are observed as well and I can clearly see where I am attached to some idea that I believe I can be hurt or diminished in some way.  Those incorrect thoughts bring out the Angry Wolf.

The Peaceful Wolf knows that no one owes me anything, ever, no matter what I have given.  Every act on my part is a gift and a service that I give, and nothing can be expected in return.  With the commitments I have freely made, I will serve with pleasure, with no expectation of the reward of appreciation for MY service, no expectation of closeness derived from MY giving, no paybacks, no front of the line, no piggy back rides up the mountain – unless these gifts flow to me from the kindness of another, unexpectedly.

In my observations of myself, I see that when I’m tired or engaging in incorrect thoughts, I can imagine I’m put upon.  In this state of mind, no words even need to be spoken; this mindset is conveyed telepathically and bodily and throws me and others out of synch.

Since I cannot be diminished, ever, all is always good.

In the story, the Peaceful Wolf is fed, so it grows, while the Angry Wolf shrinks from not being fed.  Perhaps the Angry Wolf is swaddled, loved, and absorbed.  Who knows?  I still don’t know what I’m doing.  But this makes sense tonight.

Spiritual Boot Camp

15 Jan


I signed up.

I must have.

This is what some days look like at spiritual boot camp.

There is something so right on about the recognition that it is now, not in the summer, not after I stop working, not in the next life.  Like this Blog Name ( suggests, this is it.  You’ve got to admire the full blown focus.

In my purse on my catch all little notebook, a Mooji Quote, that had been scribbled in haste, was found just as the floor fell out from under me in 2011 as I left my 20 year marriage.

“Push everything aside; Find out who you are.  The rest will sort itself out.”

Those were the right words to help me adjust to the new groundless state of moving forward; even though, I felt like a quaking mountain of goo at the time.

For a long time I thought that in life people matured and learned and became wiser.  I assumed this to be true. This is not true for a good many people.

I really saw this once in an overheard conversation between two people in their 70’s.  I heard mean gossip, deeply masked pain, and ego feeding codependencies without any shielding so immature, so similar to a middle-school dynamic, that I was shaken and heartbroken for them, for all of us.  We all know these sides of ourselves.  We are this in our forgetting.

These two had been practicing their religion devoutly for their entire lives.  Where was the growth?  Where was the change?    I had that Peggy Lee moment…

My searching began to recognize some souls awakening with humility, grace, humor, and ease.  I began there.

Tangible growth can happen; certain behaviors can fall away for good; that is not all there is.    Not from effort does this come, but by illusions being dropped, for good.


Something hears you when you make this choice.

Things appear that are needed to help you along the way.  Those two screamers above are not an unfamiliar mirror to me.  My darling daughters in teen years have proven to be the most wonderful sand blasters I could have ever invented.  But just as often, what is sent is soft and gentle: a breeze, a dolphin encounter, a hand-written note.

Some days feel an Everest climb, but then I see the cookies and lemonade at the next plateau and I keep on.

Always it seems less of me there is, the more flow occurs, and the more and more peace I can hold as a space for all of us.  Loving the peace inside, wishing you the same. X!

Here we all are, one by one, waking up !

Is a New Paradigm Just Another Pull of Duality?

13 Jan


On one side of the crevasse is an opening of cooperation, flow, creative play,  music, poetry, dancing, sharing, appreciation, connection, personal sovereignty…

The other side is our known “Down the Rabbit Whole” world about which Alice would no longer say, “Curiouser and Curiouser,” I suspect.  She would be wigging out!  Ramped up chaos, lies, distraction, imbalance, escalation,  noise,noise,noise…

Joseph Campbell in one of his lectures said, “The world is a mess.  The world has always been a mess.”    Through one view, that is sort of the point of the world, isn’t it?  Duality, polarity, paradox.  Perhaps it was never intended to be fixed – merely experienced.

And in the flow of merely experiencing this world, the above picture is not actually accurate.  The two sides actually overlay one another – they are occurring together.  The mess is still here, not ignored, but can be watched with attention, without  emotional sway.  The bliss and flow can also also watched with attention, without emotional attachment.

One moment follows another  and it is a pretty good show from this seat.

The idea that we have participated in creating this amazing murder mystery theatre show for ourselves is simply wonderful to me.  Think of this.  We thought up:   Crop Circles, Oceans, Aliens, Tornados, Mystery Schools, Palm Reading, Basil,  Sex, Soul Mates, Geometry, Black Holes, God, Lucifer, Quarks, Secret Societies, Kittens, Weather, Flowers, Hitler, Lobster, Worms, Films, Paint on Canvas, Unseen Realms, and most of all, unfathomable SPACE surrounding us between micro particles, between atoms, between planets, between solar systems, between galaxies, between multiple universes even…IMMENSE SPACE between everything –  just to the brain-aching tip of what we can fathom – and  we plopped ourselves here with Amnesia.

Damn we are good!

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