Calendar Times

My friend gave me Seven Calendars

Added to the four from her last month,

Gives me 12 years to live – a life a month

Both a cram & a vivid adventure

January sees me as The Beginner

A six energy after the tests of the five,

Building the stability of four

February will see me shucking shackles

Finding my Fearless Suit, amen.

Taking it out to check it over.

March will find me serving the wind

Standing, as webs are wick’d away

Arms up, as in a test pattern for flight.

April puts me on the chocks

Feet already poised to run downhill

Arms braced to push forth into speed.

May is Permission Month, I face the mirrors

Checking each reflection for any flinch

Seeing none, I shall start divesting.

June sets the flight pattern

Ablaze across a hemisphere

My breath exhales to explore it.

July sets a backpack of heat

Across my cool plans, these meld

Like good peppermint bark with red sprinkles.

August shares me with the moon

Introductions all around

Handshakes, offers of maps.

September sets an 11 upon me:

I’ve lived thru the ten: rebirth permits

Starting over in Spirit Time as a One.

October farewells all that went before

“Sayonara,” she calls

Syllables on the wind.

November flexes haunches to spring

To leap the now-familiar moon

To launch beyond it to the stars.

December sips wassail in the sleigh

Where overhead beams Heaven

Our sole road Home.

The Next World

In the last 30 seconds of the bifurcated moment,

the ones ticking down as I exhale

I forget there may be meaning in this life

I float to the rafters where ever-afters

Have lodged themselves as breathed-out dreams.

I realize the mine of my life is up to me:

I built this pier I stand upon

Plank by plank.

I watch the night

Where darkness never happens

For starbursts pulsing over

I sent my mind in questing

But my heart leaped free instead.

We No Longer Live in Lack

WE NO LONGER LIVE IN LACK

but in the fullness of love & a loving presence within ourselves & hovering just beyond. Our Higher Self is plugged in, checking the connection, watching the feed.

Anything good coming up? Something I can toehold onto here, & lift us up more? Get a glimpse of what my Higher Self is up to?

(I see her doing the same as me, yeh? Only on a classier level, like in white rooms. In fact, the Higher Selves? They’re hooked in together all the way to Source (think of all the plugs coming out of that Throne! 😊)

They’re all listening in this open channel. It’s what’s shaking Over There right now, I hear.

Who among you remembers a Party Line? I do.

Joe Dispenza says a heart in coherence thinks in pictures. Have you read the last dozen blogs where I write of someone going through my memories? Of the vivid pictures appearing – these are almost 3D – just add the energy of attention: watch it expand to re-experience. Many other resolutions can present themselves for consideration, but you need to blow right by these & arrive at the conclusion which took place in the reality where you currently reside (body & soul) (Later, & if so inclined, you can peruse these in detail.)

Let me borrow your mind a moment:

We are walking through Mordor. Each of us carries & uses a Ring of Power.

Where did your mind just go?

Over what would I yield – or wield – power? Only over the realms I now ‘control.’ I’m careful about acquisitions right now.

(Even after years, this thought sets off a tiny chime that rings the universe and sets my brain alert – ‘Let go.’  That old cosmic tug of war between yield & wield with its one letter switched & its “I” moved about.)

Does this make me a dumbbell? I mean, just to stay in balance, something must give. What am I willing to give for balance? Isn’t homeostasis where it’s all happening anyway? It’s where I aim to get to & be.

I know this is all [distastefully?] egoic. But please consider I only am focused on this avatar – oops – even as I type that, I know it not to be true. Perhaps 80/20? And even that shifts. For the purposes of this blog, it’s this me working it.

For some (SoMe!?) the pen is a magical wand. Tho not found in a toolkit, how many minds has it charged, how many thrones overthrown? The power in the pen is in both its use & user because, like any good tool that morphs to the shape of the hand, the use of all muscles, so does this tiny WMD.

I need to let go of the pen & see the people I am speaking to by faces, by gestures, by the energy exchange of universe giving in to giving us ourselves because we are finally allowing & acknowledging it.

“Nothing but nothingness” a seer says.

“Nothing unreal lasts” ACIM says

“Maya” a cultural belief

If you have an idea where this might go, please share it!

Love,

Carol