Aug 2015

Fly Your Featherless Flight

fly your featherless flight

Fly Your Featherless Flight

Man does not have wings because the mind is our flight. Our essence touches everything and everyone that our mind goes to. Perhaps it even goes to the future, or the past, or an invention, and those become real and our life fills with them, if that is where we fly. It also enters the dream of our lover, or prepares us to find the next step into the brightest light someone held open for us.

A coffee break, there where you are in the middle of a crowd of co-workers, close your eyes with a deep sigh and take the air. Find the joy and fun inside every moment and your flight will take you to another universe full of those same co-workers, working for you. I recommend, regular take-offs...and eternal glides.

Now, back to nature. A long trail, by yourself, to a small view, alone. Take it in, fly your mind with your eyes wide open, touching every cloud above it all. Listen for the bird's songs in the trees behind you, telling you the circles to take. As you forget the stone you've sat upon, feeling the breeze pick up and shake the trees, as it blows passed your face. You spread your arms and drink in, a rich breath of the whole sky. Your open heart takes it all in.

The path of the snake is not yours today. No lurking in holes, watching hidden, to strike any disturbing your shedding of old skin. The feathers in your aura's light are calling a sight upon your life you've been waiting to angle. Magic is warm in your hands as you pull them close and hug yourself. It is not a day to be the insects gathering. It is a day that sees the sun before anyone.

And now, as the dusk comes, you turn to the big eyes of the prey hunter, every mouse your goal and you can hear him with three dimensions and hear the ghost he rides. Your flight silent as you are the first upon the moon and hold in your talons, every whisper that tried to reach it before you. Your hunger filled to fulfillment above the stars as your all, that is now perceptible by touch, jumps onto the branch you land upon.

As you are ready to walk back to your car and join the traffic home to your bed. You fly above the motors, remembering you will be the first to see the sun, if you choose. You enter your dreams ready for more wings in your life.

This practice of entering the animals are constant and touchingly simple. Turn to the window, demand to sit next to that window, and climb the trees while writing your papers. Be barefoot in the grass while you draw your masterpiece. Smell the wet soil as rain begins, as mundane does not exist in your world, our world, here. As this timeless time that now beats in your rhythms, is enveloped in fun, quick frolicking, and why we came to Earth to exist, like the animals, for fun.

Could the eager daily practice of where the joy has hidden, like a hide-n-seek game you always win, be your better-than-coffee-ever-woke-you? Yes, you have every right to be alive. You have all the tools in you through that mind you send on flight, to breathe into each moment, a gratitude for the heart you are in. Dream a daydream behind everyone you talk to and see where they go. You can even live many lives while in this one.





Dolls alone in a store. Dolls broken in boxes. These are the places the broken children inside us, can heal. Just one for your dresser to talk to, to sleep; or the many that you can gather to make into art. These interesting humanoid appearing creatures, have a great role for us. They are the rescued souls you begin to repair inside.

It does not matter if your childhood was as a boy or a girl or the wanting to be the role of a boy or the role of a girl. These are children and therefore, can take the care you wish to give inside and activate these efforts. There are plenty of boys or girls, different races, or alien dolls. There will be found, just the one for your repair; or, you can bring home the masked, in the most beautiful of disguises you wish upon you, to hide your screams some more.

There is a warm magic here, not the haunting of pins in the dolls of a myths hands. These are the hauntings themselves, you may have inside, and if you must, with pins to find your wounds. I've had this one doll since I was twelve. She was warn out from the 20's and over the years, just
rotted more, but I've healed each year since her. She has my memories from that time but also has the pain she wanted me to see in myself when I found her. She still sits on a shelf above my bed, staring out into my world, remembering out pain so I don't have to. I've healed a lot that she put upon her from us and I am thankful I found her to still sit there.

As I've gained friendships with similar mirrors, I've begun to collect some more of such dolls, to take the world on so that I'll write to heal on such friends and the universe if I can. Why not, they are also stars aren't they. As I gather this galaxy for the house I'll be in. They will scare some of course, because as you’ve known, I have some creepy taste, but most will see that I've healed something making each of them.

They are my paintings and books (before such work will be), even more raw than poetry as I hear which ones to gather at the second hand store. They want to be adorned with the horror movies not written yet and become the beautiful words a poem wants to be described, looking upon her. They will hang and sit and occupy my mind as they fill up my life because it will be from here on, as I see. They are for me, as well as into sculpture, or as time would have them, both, to be my rooms and every healed heart inside my own.

Give me your disguarded and partially formed, left over, still presenting itself as doll. Let me pet her and watch her, giving her a box to sleep until she is ready for that piece of my life. Let her eyes open to my dark room as I close mine to dream. I do not want to think upon my room's darkening, only the covers upon me. I'll dream of my spirit, drinking in the art of the world only souls could speak.

Will such souls and spritis visit in my friend near my bed and whisper? Would you be more comfortable to know that they come here instead? It is warm, what they have to say. I feel it even when no words are heard, or even when they can't be said. They will come to my work. They do, walking through again. I've made room for these unsaid conversations. I've made room for more dolls.


Share the World and Minds Grow

Share the world and minds grow

Share the World and Minds Grow

There can be healing of roles upon us. A time where you can wear a different point of view across you. Perhaps as simple as clothes you were told not to. Look at yourself there in the mirror and feel pretty. Boobs in a suit with a handlebar mustache or tall thin man with lace over his chest. Sometimes a moment like this can be for your greatest well being.

Many art movements, through hundreds of years marking history of different eras of voices and paint, change things around. They live in the roles of the other until it is ruled by androgyny. There is a comfort there, a magic. As our feelings spill forth in rhythm or our feet find steps not ours, become ours. A remembrance of deep intelligence only fish could go, that held a world in evolution of everything the other had, if wanted. Wanted it was so, as it filled the walls of the influenced.

Children remembering the parents inside them, as the mirror said, they were grown now and could rewrite them, if growing beyond them must be. Balanced hearts reaching out to find the world waving through the changes of their warm touch. Could you please tell me how simple it would be if, this were spilling out of your own possibilities? Wear who you are, and who you want to be. Perhaps it is a clue as to the growing popularity of year round Halloween among you.

We must find our understandings of the wanted inside and try them on for size. Give them a mask that is not one at all, of truth instead, in our painted on faces. It is like an author of fiction here, where truth is revealed through characters, more than non-fiction could do. The layers of integrity, growing from the adventure that is now sought. The path is through that mirror and there is no Alice there.

This is all about the allowing of our fellow beings, and their room to breathe. They do not truly want the roles like uniforms. Is this order? Or, is this the chaos the pinned down builds. Let’s choose beautiful instead with the freedom of a story beyond just clothes. Could it be that simple, that our wearings are only extensions of our minds? For me, if this were so, I'd like a tale upon them, than only locked doors pushed onto me.

I also like a day when I've not revealed or obeyed, with my bed-wear on, strolling through a market. That is where the roles are torn down the most after all: Pajamas of silk or pants and shirt. Something nice to remind us of our comfort and our dreams. Could it be that the nude sleepers are only wearing their sheets to remind them of the gowns they wish to adorn? Or, could they be our royal robes as we pile on more for the embrace of its weight.

I would like it to be our Renaissance beyond technology and the whole
who is supposed to be what, and back into the mind, the thought, the intellect of it all. Let us invent this new revolution into the magic of our neurons growing. Metamorphosis does not have to be painful. It can be easy and gentle to become the beautiful somethings that we all are.


What's Deeper Than The Great Spirit

Deeper than the great spirit

What's Deeper Than The Great Spirit

It is why I find myself here. It is a part of what compels these particular articles on Shamanic Wisdom Wednesdays. I've explored it and it is not my Spiritual Guides, I asked them and I asked The Great Spirit that has a voice hidden inside me. It is deeper it answered. Healing is deeper. So, I've explored this new knowledge that brings me to you once a week. It is not deeper than the existence of the Universe, but right there in equal depth. Does that mean that deeper is more power? No, it is a different description than whom has what power, as you can tell by its equality to the Universe.

It is that place your mind goes when you are about to fall asleep, aside from dreams and pieces of your day, that you can't quite grab before you go into your full night trance of REM and non-REM. It is what compels some to awaken and write something down where others continue to drift into their darkness, that is met by morning without another step. It is a place that can be found in many types of meditations, again others just had a stress-reducing break, that they trained themselves to do. This is a very quick moment and in the spaced-out, blank space of letting your mind fill with the Universe, there is more there than even that.

It can seem like a muse at times, but a muse is a teacher amongst your Guiding Spirits. This is something your muse would respect and help you with, but also, not anything expected inside your trusted path. Except for those that have a path to heal, perhaps these Guides would know what to tell you when you started using it, but they couldn't tell you what would come from it. You are the only one to know this, because that door is inside of you, they cannot see or hear or feel that experience before, during or after. They can only tell you if you are misguided, and that is an entirely different feeling or event. They do have access to that.

The deeper itself will tell you there is even deeper than her because there is always something deeper. There is no bottom to light, only darkness has that and not all things absent of light, are darkness. She is what you touch when you are with source, yet not source itself. This is why I called her “The Deeper” as you've noticed, because she is deeper. She is unending in the touch she has in nature. She is you, where you meet nature and become unending. She is who you are when you do not think of her and who you are when you discover her, yet, not you. Just a place down passed you, you can touch. She is not he nor she, only everything you see inside a reflection and everything reflected.

She will not ever tell you what to do, nor will she demand worship. She is respected as all nature is, but why you have a life force to guide at all. Even if she is not your seed to be, or humans to be or why Earth is here, she is deeper than where any of that began. She is love and deeper than love, inside the pure birth of chaos.