One Hundred Percent

Morning Meds; 10 27 21  

Inspiration can seem to dry up,

but there is a spring within ever flowing. 

Undisturbed by distraction, preferences or perspective.  

It’s the flurry above the peacefulness, 

It’s the spray above the sea,  

It’s the smoke above the warmth,  

that causes one to feel separated from the Creator of All.  

We are that point of transformation  

where electricity becomes light,  

where water changes to steam, 

 where fire ignites.  

We are that exact point of transition  

when what was, is no more and what is to be, is freshly born. 

 Within we are Consciousness in its unformed state.  

We are indescribable formlessness  

fluctuating like a strobe, 

back and forth,  

between form and our original state.  

We are Consciousness, 100%,  

whether we feel inspired or if we don’t. 

Unmuddled

Morning Meds; 10 26 21

What a start to a new day. I awoke from a chaotic dream, where my home was in complete shambles.

Three different construction supervisors, of which I knew none, each in a different room.

All three of them on their cell phones afraid to call their boss, lest they offend one of the other supervisors by overstepping their authority.

I’m holding my phone, knee deep in trash and debris, afraid, thinking the same thing.

Well let me tell you, it didn’t take me long to plop down on my pillow to do my meditation.

I’ll call the boss, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll get this straightened out in a jiffy.

I was sure Source would be as busy as a grasshopper in a chicken coop, working in my behalf and I’ve never had a call refused.

I was going to complain that the residual energy from the dream, had me feeling, muddled.

Muddled to the core.

Dreams are funny, what you see isn’t the story, what you see represents the story that your suppose to figure out. You need to figure out how it applies to your life. Gifts from on high.

Dreams are like living hieroglyphics, they’re symbolic pictures shows.

In my dreams, the house I see myself in usually represents some aspect of my life. Seeing my house being remodeled by a bunch of strangers didn’t set well.

I thought I was doing better. I thought I was making progress. I thought I had my house in some kind of order.

I’ll call him, he’ll show me how to clear this mess up.

I found him alright.

As the silence of meditation thickened and the scattered feelings calmed, the first image I saw was the boss sound asleep in a big lounging chair, all kicked back, dreaming.

He was busy dreaming that he was meditating because he had awoken from a chaotic dream and was feeling muddled.

Talk about being taken by surprise. It was just so odd and out of place. Not at all what I expected. Then a feeling of connectedness and oneness started filtering in.

All I could do was smile and relax as I realized that this odd impression was what I needed to startle me out of the fear I was feeling.

We are never separated from Source. We just get so caught up with the show around us and we forget that it’s all a dream.

In the time scope of eternity everything is fine and we rest in the assurance that Source is always wanting to be included in our lives and in our dreams.

As I exited the image, feeling much unmuddled, I thought I could almost hear a chuckle and the words “Got ya.” but I’m sure I was just dreaming.

Altered Perspective

Morning Meds; 10 25 21

Situations and events happen in our lives that cannot be undone and whether by choice or when those choices were made, we may not know.  

That leaves us with our perspectives and our incessant need to label things.  

In this picture, are you the tree or the vine? 

Which is the event and which is the reaction to the event? 

Both of these expressions of living energy are affected by the other and there is no way to undo what has happened.  

One can choose to see oneself as the tree, which is being choked out by the vine or  

one can see oneself as the vine that has used an event as an opportunity to reach greater heights. 

We can label our experiences as we see fit.

Stillness

Morning Meds; 10 23 18

Our planets orbit and spin,

as if attached to cogs on a giant clock.

The preeminence of time prevails.

Yet, one step of faith to where time is no more and

the preeminence of Source prevails.

All things become new.

Blockages unbarricaded,

conditions changed and

diseases dissolved.

It lies in the stillness of meditation in the quiet beyond your mind.

Butterfly Essence

On the belly of a leaf,

In the cool of its shade,

Near the rusted rake,

Forgotten by the gardener. 

The essence of a butterfly 

Stirs in its emerald sphere. 

Two united, reconfigured into one, 

The combined essence of its parental pair. 

A freeing push, 

A silent tear, 

A flood of light, 

A new life appears. 

An infant caterpillar unfurls. 

Driven by growth, 

It moves to the edge of a leaf. 

Swallowing up its essence. 

While the world continually shifts from light to dark. 

It reaches its length of days, 

Then, draws a silken strand 

And spins itself its shroud. 

On the belly of a leaf 

In the cool of its shade 

Near the rusted rake 

Forgotten by the gardener. 

In the darkness of its silken shroud,  

The essence of life transforming, 

Hangs by a thread,

Changing.  

The reshaped essence of the plant 

Transformed to be its own, 

The essence of the parental pair and it’s own.

The four reshaped as one. 

Energy continually reused 

Rearranged, reshaped, reformed 

Recombined changing a 

Silken shroud into womb. 

On the belly of a leaf 

In the cool of its shade 

Near the rusted rake 

Forgotten by the gardener 

A blacked womb twitches. 

A silence tear, 

A flood of light, 

A new life appears. 

Struggling with a form unknown,

Pulling itself to the light,

Wings hardened by air,

The essence of many takes flight. 

Its essence a combination, 

Of generation upon generation,

The eternal act of sharing,

Ones living essence with another.