Morning Meds; 9 28 21
If we make our ego our enemy, we will never become friends with ourselves.
We stand on perpetual trial, analyzing our motives, scrutinizing our actions, continously passing judgment for or against ourselves.
Self acceptance always deferred as we measure ourselves against standards chosen and set by the world around us.
I found this chrysalis today. The picture does not do it justice. You can barley see the row of sparkling jewels where it bulges out. This monarch butterfly put in a zipper.
I have a butterfly poem that I have tried to nurse to maturity for quite awhile. I guess I’ll dig it out of the files and see if it is ready to climb out of it’s cocoon. Maybe even fly.
In the mean time, …first a word of warning, I am a much better carpenter and plumber than I am a website administrator…in the mean time, here is an invite for all you writers and poets who have been kind enough to view my ramblings. If you feel so inclined, if you write a poem or thought about this caterpillar in transition, I’ll post under the picture. There need not be any theme, just your capable poetic thoughts.
It will be an opportunity for you to share your craft. Put your name on it, a link to your site and consider it a thank you.
I not interested in competition, that would take the fun out of it. I would like it to be an opportunity for people, who share a need to write, to paint their thoughts with words. Sort of a writers conversation.
I will do my best to figure out how to get them under that picture as quickly as I can. Thank you
Morning Meds; 9 27 19
I was taught to be a watcher,
a watcher, watching me.
But if I look back over my shoulder,
I see an endless row of watcher.
The reflection of reflections,
as far as I can see.
Who is the original watcher?
Who is it that first watched me?
Who is at the end
of the endless watchers,
as far as I can see?
Morning Meds; 9 27 21
We don’t have to preserve
Yesterday’s experiences,
Our recollections,
Our collections of now.
They are not us.
An experience never is.
We are greater than them.
We can scrape the collapsed form from our wheel,
Toss the unsolved poem away,
Clean our palette,
Toss the cracked carving into the woodstove,
We can start a new story.
Every moment is new.
Only we can fill it with old.
Yesterday’s disappointments
need not sour our now.
We always have that choice.
The best medication for depression is hope. Hopelessness withers the soul.
Morning Meds; 9 26 19
The shifting sands of transcending beliefs, wiggling beneath my feet.
What once was right, is now all wrong and what was wrong is right.
No solid footing for my steps, the constant fear of
falling,
falling,
falling,
into the bottomless abyss,
which I now doubt exists.
Looking back, what was, is gone.
The pieces shattered, scattered, they no longer seem to fit.
I know I must press on.
There’s no place else to go.
I follow the compass of you heart, like a Salmon swimming home.
In this desert of change, there is always a
drawing, a pulling, a knowing,
carrying me along.
Unconditional love in all its fullness awaits.
Morning Med; 9 26 21
If we envision a better life,
Thoughts and beliefs to the contrary
Will slowly
Drip
Drip
Drip
Away,
Thought
By
Thought
By
Thought
Like ice greeting the morning sun.
Their energy content flowing back Into formlessness, and
The new energy from our
Improved vision
Thrives in their absence.
Persistent practice frees our soul
From it’s frozen constants
And rebirth stirs in our hearts.
Morning Meds; 9 25 18
If you take a drop of water from the ocean,
No matter how you separate it, contain it or label it.
It remains 100% ocean.
No matter how we isolate, redefine or mislabeled ourselves,
we remain 100% Source.
There is nothing that’s not Source.
Morning Meds; 9 25 21
Continual pruning will stunt a plants growth.
Continual self criticism will stunt spiritual growth.
We spirituality flourish if we create a pathway that leads to an acceptance of the perfection of where we are at, at any given moment and the realization that growing pains are just part of our journey of realization.
Shame is the worst, it’s the like using Round Up to promote growth.
Intelligent encouragement is the fertilizer that causes us to thrive.
We are at our best when we feel good and at our worst we we feel bad.
Coach yourself with words, thoughts and beliefs of encouragement.
We flourish in an atmosphere of acceptance and self-love.
Put your shears away, give yourself a hug and see your beauty within.
Morning Meds; 9 25 19
I choose to see the beautiful me,
The one I never could see.
The one, buried beneath erroneous beliefs,
Beliefs covering the real me.
I choose to be the beautiful me,
The one I always was.
The one who is a spark of Source
Birthed from unconditional love.
Choose to see the beautiful you,
Don’t be tricked by religious or social lies.
Peer down deep within your soul
There’s nothing but beauty inside.
Choose to be the beautiful you.
It’s not something you need to hide.
Let the love of Source within your soul
Shine out through your beautiful eyes.
We are all in this together.
Meditative Imagery 