(To GE*)

I named this journal, Whimsey. (http://www.teues.com)

This essay is about discovering mindfulness.  Oh, not in the Tibetan way.

I am reading a book called “Belladonna” by Anne Bishop.  It is the second in a trilogy – but I have missed the first one, as usual.  Second books of series build the plot, layer the pot: the villain darkens, the heroes & heroines journey to find their best weapons & refine them.  In the book, what the characters think manifests in the landscape.  For example, anger will come up somewhere as rocks & stones.  Next comes clearing the garden of rocks & stones.

I am following the word “mindfulness” around in my head.  Like connective tissue, it wraps every thought & idea.  How can I just be coming to Realization with this? The word has visited before, like a butterfly, noticeable, distinct, unique.  But it seems it has never lighted for long: a quick appearance, a fanning of wings (tasting my energy) & off to the next.

Today it is hanging on a bit, winking in & out at me.  This is not a ‘gratis’, or pro bono appearance.  I must pay for it with my attention.

I was able to bring my focus back to what I was doing in the when of doing it.  Wow! This is a huge shift for me.  Putting one foot in front of another while consciously feeling what each movement accomplished in my body as it was being made. 

I wonder, is the sea conscious of every wave?  Of course.   This is the Sea of Consciousness.   I notice an old joke: The old man fish swims by two younger ones & says, “Enjoy the water!”  The youngers pause for a moment to ask each other, “What’s water?”

I notice my attention favors the future.  What has been happening in my wake? Have I been knocking folk about like tenpins as I pass – the rush to achieve my future overwhelming my present?  Have I been bathing others in a warmer flow where they may take a deeper breath? Is my landscape sandy beach with prickly sawgrass, or towering misted mountains with meadows afoot?

As to manifestation…a short tale: there is an aggressive boxer on the next block up.  This morning, his maybe eleven-year-old master held his collar as I passed.  I thanked him, telling him the dog had threatened me in the past to the point where I turned around to take the next block over.  He apologized. 

I neglected to tell him this dog also jumps the back fence to threaten my way down the alley.

As I walked the alley home, I mused on whether Boxer would be “out back” & he was.  [Location of Thoughts?]  He leaped the fence growling & in stiff-legged advance.  I used my MOAV** on him, faced him, walked at him on loose legs with a stiff back, shoulders up, handweights bristling.  Boxer backed off, but too reluctantly, this time, more ready to engage than when I threatened him off before. 

I will not walk in the alley on that block anymore.  Why resist?

I was lit up with anger, ready to wrangle, on DEEEfense.  “Dog, just walk this way & see where these handweights line up on your short-ear, square head.”

I understood what I was bringing to myself as I formed the thoughts. Is the dog to blame?

 I was able to let it go by the end of the block, a scant 40’.  I feel tingling again as I write of this, yet I know it is of no profit in this when.  I cannot live today doused in a simmering growl.  I choose to let it go & re-breathe my day.

I think this might be Mindfulness on approach.  Gaining? Landing?  Thank you, Butterfly.   Please, would you stay for just another moment?  I remember now: it’s the only one I have. 

  • to Gina Emerging **Mother Of All Voices

For Want

I had to buy a needle today. The last time I saw a needle was, umm, while in Nashville (2010.) The pins n needles display hung, like an afterthought, off the narrow end of the remnant rack. I chose a package in a cool circular blue – which was made of inseparable cardboard/plastic symbiotes. I was relieved the needles were in another plastic container within. This one was obviously approved & child-safe; for the life of me it would not open. Of course, just as I thought, “but when it does,” the plastic case parted by about two needles’ worth of space & two needles flew out like projectiles. I have found one so far.

Here’s my latest Weirds:

I bought a pair of beautiful “crazy jasper” earrings at the flea market. Thrilled with the great price & beautiful stones, I lovingly placed the little black bag with them deeply inside my carryall. I went off to less frivolous tables. Arriving home, I felt the two earrings in that bag, yet unpacked one earring from it. I checked: the car, my purse, all pockets, the floor between in/out/up (with a flashlight) to sad avail. I surrendered & made a pendant out of the one I with a simple twist of wire. I found the earring within 27 hours. It was inside the washer, lying bright & clean after the “cottons, warm” cycle.

I decided not to think about it. Too hard. However, two days later, the other pair of earrings purchased at the Flea separated themselves between wearing them into the house & upstairs. I went to hands & knees to check under the bureau (under which I had just recently found a “missing” ring of at least a year’s absence.) I pulled out a brother to the little flashlight of downstairs. Four hours later, long after the search ended, I found the earring in front of the dryer.

(I now know where the vortex tunnels to in the house. The laundry room. If any galactics portal into my home, they will likely present in my laundry room, which is not an impressive first impression.)

Pre-dating the above by a week: I bought a set of tires, but just two, & immediately one of the remaining two objected to being put up front…begetting a feeling of “the front of the car feels like a washing machine” (is anyone else catching a meme here?) Well, I hadn’t intended to buy two more new tires quite yet, but considering the alternative could be a spectacular newspaper write-up of bits of car strewn over a canyon off-road, I figured who can lose? Especially since the ones scraping me off the rocks would be former neighbors & friends. Nix that. Filling the set of four tires for me covers a lot of other people, it turns out.

I feel like I should be leaving little treats for my angels who have been punching in & out on a quasi-military beat to watch over me & they are pretty aware what happens when they’re late to work. There are times they can’t quite get much more than a feather or two between myself & the “Fates”, but damn, they show up every time!

(I picked up a loose nail which led to the first tire set. Looking back, that nail saved my life. It brought to mind an old poem which I now read with brand-new respect.)

My angels have some other offerings: I hear “diet” & “walk more” & “yoga” & “qigong”, something about tye-dying their wings…I’m getting some hair with SpIKes in it tomorrow, my best response cuz I just got settled again. And I have to keep an eye on the laundry room for after-hours arrivals.

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost;
For want of the shoe, the horse was lost;
For want of the horse, the rider was lost;
For want of the rider, the battle was lost;
For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost;
And all from the want of a horseshoe nail.

you are here

The forgiveness of morning is a cloak I wear every day. Indeed, I live on a prairie where night holds invisibility so I am always relieved with another morning in which to find a day to fill with loving acts, the blessing of words, the entirety of existence stretching out in front of me today.

The lists are prepared already (all ready), I do exist in a dance of preparedness & accomplishment. I feel the beam of Sourcelight fingering my crown. In this will I live & move & indulge my being this day.

The world is changing rapidly now. Even as the birds awaken Nature, I stretch into the potential of accomplishing all the worldly tasks to which I conspicuously bring my energetic potential. My friends are out there somewhere: some traveling or readying to travel; some laboring with the monotony of dull routine; some flipping anxiously through the Tarot deck of possibility. Me? I’m getting two new tires this morning, helping a good-hearted man organize his new phone system, recycling another’s cast-off computer, buying groceries in anticipation of a visitor returning to her home state. The list would be dull for you to read, but for me it is the tithe I pay in this 24-hour cycle allotted to the limit of its hours.

In background to my little life is a panoply of desire, hunger, satisfaction, blessing, growing…

I have been a traveler. I have reorganized my life to face each direction on the compass. I have tarried in sunlight, searched for meanings, permitted myself pleasures & I laughed with glee at the chance to stir the pots once again, picking & choosing the tenderest bits to enjoy.

The morning is chilly; a countering point to the summer of approaching days of which more than a few will reach triple digit temps. I am happy to be once more in woolly pajamas before clothing becomes a choice of the lightest fabrics & the least covering available. I am happy I left a couple of items out of the winter-put-away to see me through a New Mexico Spring which liberally mixes cool & hot – a sundae of many colors & flavors…strawberries & salad, stew & bread…a diet of days which leave me replete within these few hours as I adjust to all incoming stimulation.

Does this sound a bit patronizing? Impossible? Routine? It does not to me, but I claim this day for the impossibility of being my best self in it & the inevitability of tomorrow’s lists already looming on a clear white page.

Bring me into the mix of life with fervor & forgiveness, with practicality & purpose, with benefit & blessing. I live in a net of many strands. Some are ones I use to climb into completion while others I weave into the needs of others to alleviate & remedy.

I am already choosing the flowers which will provide the bouquet of experiences. I feel ready for challenges & chuckles at the acceleration of light bringing me forward. How lucky can I be to live the life I desire & had no idea how to accomplish – except it’s here, now.

Lords of light & air, friends of home & heart, benefits of health & realization surround me. Ladies of fulfillment, fruition, friendship to offer & enjoy put hands into mine & this May day becomes a pearl I nourish deeply inside.

There is nothing left but to love the each & every: music, food, breath, color, flavor, exchange. I’m diving into it whole-heartedly, lists in hand. It doesn’t get better than this. Good fortune is all ’round me & I intend to appropriate it with accomplishment, endeavor, search & reward.

How about you?