Saturday, January 12, 2008

Empty Page

I have half an hour.

A half an hour is a lot of time if you use it wisely.

***

Sitting at the top of steps, panoramic view of the neighborhood spreads out before me from high in the hilltops. My body full-up in longing can't wait to begin the process. Can hold it in no more. Anchored, I let it out. All of me:

Expansion. Awareness. Highly aware. Super conscious.

Unfurled.

Open. Large. Boundary-less.

I am here but I am more.


Beyond.

Exhale emotion. Exhale conflict. Exhale rifts. It is a relief. Expel and flush. None of it me. None of it personal. None of it lasting.

My heart settles, shaking off the dewy emotional charges as petals in the wind. I am cleansed. Purified. Re-centered. Brilliant.

Uncontained. Formless.


Sparkling like sunrays tickling the ocean's ever-changing surface. Making it laugh. Dance. Delight. Fire and water. Ebullient.


I place my focus on the school over there. Right over the tree tops. Not just a collection of buildings, I see a living, breathing community. I embrace the whole plot.

Smiling at the choice of word. Plot of land, plot of drama. I embrace the whole vastness this it is, that it wants to be.

Radiate, and elevate.


Sometimes more work can be done from up here than in the muddy biased trenches.

Neighborhoods rise and fall:
It's not the homes that make the neighborhood, but the people in them.

Same could be said for schools. Our school:
Either rising - building, connecting, embracing,
Or declining - neglecting, disconnecting, abandoning.

Which is it? Things could go either way.

A mere perception shift away.


***

TA. Who is she? What part does she play?
Skill sets…like so many pages ripped off and blowing in the breeze…

Empty page.

New year.

New choice.

Do I really need this pen? This knife? This track? This role?

Your destiny is any way you want it to be…

What do I want?

That's an excellent question. You think I've never thought of it before?

Ha!

Oh the luxury of being able to think…without the gun to my head, the child on my hip, the collectors at my back….knowing that whatever I pick really will be ok, won't really matter in the big scheme, change the scenery it's all part of the same source…

What do you want?

What do you want?

The answers come, so obvious:

I want to feel good.
I want to feel awake.
I want to fee love.
I want to feel joy.
I want my creations to be meaningful.
I want my creations to connect with others.
I want to be well compensated, not depleted from my efforts.
I want my steps to be obvious. Sure.
I want to be fearless.
I want to be protected, provided for.
I want to see possibilities, not restrictions…
I want to stay connected.
I want it to be effortless.
Totally me.
Right.


You already are all these things.


***


The Blank Page.

Emptiness.

White.

From Nothing…Something.

All possibilities exist.

How to decide?

What to choose?


Does it really, really matter?

Words.
Guides.
Speeches.
Tracks.
Recipes.
Maps.
Creations.
Art.
Life.

It's all the same, truly.

Conscious effort.
Conscious creation.
Conscious parenting.
Conscious living.

To live in love, not fear.

To be the light you already are.

To trust that you will be all right, no matter what.




all


distills

down

to

Truth.

and

Love.





So now I go pick up my daughter from school, knowing truthfully…

it doesn't really matter what I do, as long as I do it with the fullness of who I already Am.


I am full. All things are possible.

There is security in knowing this.


The bell rings right as I'm heading into the yard.


Up here, everything's fine.

It's down there that's tricky.



(Btw, this took only 20 minutes. And 3 more days to post.)

2 comments:

Carrie Wilson Link said...

F'ing gorgeous! Sounds like you've been listening/reading to Abraham Hicks? Law of Attraction? Whatever you've been doing, it's working, and it's contagious! ALL things are contagious. What do we choose to spread?

love.

riversgrace said...

Beautiful....right with you. Love that ride, thank you so much for carrying me on that wind.

Whenever you can, let the writing happen. It's beauty coming through.