Tag: poetry

Spiritual DNA

Morning Meds; 10 11 21

Stacked one upon another

Like protiens on strands of DNA

Our past lives remain intact

Spiraling together throughout eternity.

Spiritual genes of memory

Recording trauma and success

Lifetimes of decisions and consequence

Karmatic rights and wrongs

They wait to reintroduce us

To the us we once were

To look back at what we learned

To help resolve things undone

To heal a wound still raw

To settle a mystery unsolved

To realize how eternal we are

We need only open stored memories

Where We Always Are

Morning Meds; 10 11 19

Our spiritual journey is more about realizing where we are not, so altamently we can recognize where we have always been.

We are forever in the center of the heart of God.

The expression of our lives, are expressions of divinity.

Without us, God would be incomplete.

Self Care

Morning Meds; 10 11 18

Our bodies respond to what we think, it follows merrily along. It’s not for us to guide it’s path. It is well able to preform as it was designed to do.

Providing it with nurturing thoughts of love and self care will allow it to be it’s miraculous self. Healings are often needed to undo trauma, whether it is emotional, physical or spiritual, but once initiated, we are often best served to relax and let the healing materialize.

Belief in our miraculous ability to heal, adjust and return to wellness without constant personal intervention, deplaces turbulent fearful vibrations with peaceful energy.

If everyday we went to our garden and unearthed all our seeds to see if they were growing, our interference would cancel out the miracle of growth.

Sometimes we just need to have a little faith. We are filled with love, health and eternal existence.

At a higher level, we know what we are doing, we just sometimes let forgetfulness override awareness.

There’s no place else to go from here than within, immerse yourself with love.

The Scent of Depression

Morning Meds 10 10 21

In the context of the fear of reoccurring depression;

This is for those of us who have lived in depressions hell and have experienced the relief of it’s absence. We know the feeling to well of how it can creep back in. The onset of a bout with the flu frightens us for fear it could be depression, it seems a relief to realize it is a passing situation, even while we are sick.

It’s almost a scent in the air wafting in from the future. We fear it could return with it’s full fury. Debilitating, leaving us bed fast seeking sleep. Knowing all to well the guilt and shame of wasting away another day and that more guilt and shame is waiting for us as soon as we open our eyes, but we are just to tired to try.

Bad ideas seem a rational solution and hopefully, either the fear that death might be worse or compassion for our loved ones keep us continuing to endure.

We, like superstitious baseball players don our rally cap, cross our fingers and toes and sort of dig in, in preparation. It’s as if we can sense it rolling in from a not so distant horizon.

These moments of dread occur much less often for me now, but I haven’t forgotten the scent.

I woke up this morning with that foul smell in my mind. These are thoughts to that regard and also how imagines seen while meditating can be repurposed into writing.

Everything is energy including thoughts and their manifestations. Just like water is the solidified energy of two Hydrogen and one Oxygen molecule. Depression is solidified thought energy. As Wayne Dyer says, “Change the way you look at thing and the things you look at will change.”

Perfection is the goal that makes quitters out of most of us. Perfection is a mirage in the distance, most of those who pursue it persish of self criticism long before they reach it. Our best should always be enough. We are unconditionally loved, no one is keeping score.

(While meditating, a few thoughts from habitual recordings stored in my playlist titled , Reasons to be Depressed. I will leave them out)

(Next)

The realization that this playlist moves in the direction towards fear. Quick! Turn around, where is the direction towards love?

Persistent beliefs that hold you in check are distractions from the cause.

Under the Cause heading are listed the erroneous beliefs we shuffle through to ruin our day.

(This is the Imagery that followed)

A highway leading east, strewn with huddled humanity. People holding themselves with their arms, lamenting. Fetal position flashed for a moment but was gone. The people all lost in the fog of limiting beliefs. Many calling out for help hanging onto the signposts lining the highway. The signs inscribed with the words that hold them captive. A fog, a mist, a cloud thickly surrounds all, it’s fumes blind the eyes and sanity is lost to defective reason.

“What was, will always be.”

“I’m here again, this how is always is.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Fate has given me this path.”

“I’m an addict, I’ll never be free.”

“I’m a piece of shit.” ( my bad, poop)

“I’m so bad there is no forgiveness.”

“Damaged, damaged, damaged beyond repair.”

“I’m stupid!” (Always a favorite.)

“They said it was chronic.”

“Nobody loves me.”

“I’ve failed again, always will.”

(Well enough of that, that is depressing!)

Along the highway of darkness huddled groups of humanity exchanging their thoughts like cups of Jim Jone’s koolaid.

This imagery is the fodder for poems.

These are Thoughts, if you turn around and head the other way:

A history of falling seldom stops a toddler from walking. Our greatest stumblings block is our own voice and what we say to ourselves. A toddler is surrounded by voices of encouragement. “You can do it!”

I descended out of my hell, into my core essence, I ain’t going back.

Could searching for the causes, be causing the most harm? Might be better to look for the thoughts that causes the most good, that way we are going in the right direction.

Duality demands balance, if a farmer removes a boulder from a field he must fill the hole with good soil. If we extract a negative file from our thoughts replace it with the opposite.

Always send love to fear, it cancels out it’s energy.

The universe conspires to help me, always.

Purposely sending love to yourself and the depression, stops the fight. If we could whip the energy of it by will power, we be the happiest people alive. Love will disarm it. I have come to see my struggles with depression as the pathway I choose to force me search for what I have found. My best efforts are usually enough.