Our hearts connected across the world

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Do you see what they did

again and again

do you see how their hatred

keeps them from their own god.

 

After the primal screams broke

through and the torrential anger,

We reached out for each other

across the world to offer

prayers, love, our hearts

And it made our love even

stronger, even brighter,

together we are growing

They will not win

They cannot win

Our compassion

Our connection our bond

tighter, cast our net wider

Our hearts connected across

the world.

 

I hear prayers beautiful strong

fragile pure floating on the air

for you my beloveds coming

from every direction of the

earth and from the heavens.

 

We have already won, we have already

won.  It’s too late for them.

Our love has connected hearts

across the world

It has released more angels in

the sky

Our love and compassion for

each other will never die

because across the world

our hearts are connected,

yours and mine.

 

Prayers and love and many blessings to all

the beautiful tender hearts of the world…

xo

cory

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every place is under the stars, every place is the center of the world

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(hanging out with the fairies***)

“The lesson which life repeats and constantly enforces is “look under foot.”  You are always nearer the divine and the true sources of your power than you think.  The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive.  The great opportunity is where you are.  Do not despise your own place and hour.  Every place is under the stars, every place is the center of the world.”    –John Burroughs

as Denise Linn loves to remind us–your life is happening right now, not when you graduate, not when you get married, not when you have kids, not when you start a career or your kids are grown….now.

It’s all happening right now.  You are the one you’ve been waiting for and you are exactly where you are supposed to be.  Exactly.  Timing Is Everything.

So embrace where you are.

Feel your heart chakra opening and radiating out all of that love and deep inner light residing inside of you (it is there even if you don’t feel it!) and let the waves of that pure essence of You reverberate in and out of you again and again and go put on some stereo headphones and (mildly?!) crank up my favorite Snatam Kaur song (The Mul Mantra–Inner Truth (off of the album called The Light of Naam–there are other songs called Mul Mantra that she sings but the one I *love* is off of this specific album.  It just feels like *sacred joyful glowing splendor*)–as a side note, this song is strangely ethereal in the wee morning dark hours curled up and cozied with a cup of tea before anyone else is stirring.

Namaste and many blessings to you where you are***

“Know you what it is to be a child?…

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“Know you what it is to be a child?  It is to be something very different from the man of today.  It is to have a spirit yet streaming from the waters of baptism; it is to believe in love, to believe in loveliness, to believe in belief; it is to be so little that the elves can reach to whisper in your ear, it is to turn pumpkins into coaches and mice into horses, lowness into loftiness, and nothing into everything, for each child has its fairy godmother in its soul.”

–Shelley

use the energy of this time to clear out clutter

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(stone pathway crossroads photo taken at the Japanese Tea Garden in San Fancisco)

Really, anytime is a good time to clear out clutter–mental/emotional/physical clutter, because when the time is right, you do it.  I used to do it when I could not stand it anymore and I would get a crazy irritated burst of energy that I would use to chuck things out of my life.  Good sometimes, bad sometimes.  In the past few years I’ve tried to notice that irritation building and gently (or at least not so rabidly) peel things out of my life here and there.  The best thing to do is to monitor the things and not let them into your precious sacred space and your sanctuary.  I remember years ago people were handing out free books and I said “No thank you.”  And they said “But it’s free!”  And I said “Thank you, but no thank you” and continued on my way thinking “It’s not free.  I don’t want it and it will just be taking up space and sucking up energy, so it’s a detriment to me.”

I’m sure you’ve heard about the end of the world coming on 12/21/2012 and from what I’ve heard and choose to believe is that it is the end of the old way of thinking which is now allowing a new consciousness and a new light and way of being into the world.  So, what better time than to rearrange some furniture and clear out old journals and poetry.  For the past few months, I have been lighting a candle and taking one second to go within and focus on my intention and then started ripping up, composting, recycling, and even burning pages of dream journals, regular journals, poetry (gasp! that I never thought I would have done!  I’m a poet–it’s who I am at my essence!).  I would skim over the pages and decide most of them were gone and would keep some of them.  All with the intention that “I am letting go of all of the negative energy and sending it all up to Source energy to turn it into healing energy for me and all involved.  I am clearing everything out in order to bring in more joy, love, health, and support into my life and to live an even more authentic life to who I am and who I want to be and who the Universe wants me to be.  All in Divine Order.  All in Divine Love.  For the greatest good of all involved.  So be it and so it is.  Amen”

I cleared out a whole bunch of books and I told my teenage son that I realize he’s gone through his books fairly recently but to just a quick look through his and see if there were any he didn’t want anymore.  Imagine my surprise when he got rid of many many books and then continued to go through his entire closet and the his entire room!  When he told me he was going to keep going through his entire room, I told him to just keep the feeling of how he wanted to feel in his room and the rest of his life.  I know my family is very sensitive to all things in our space and I do believe that everyone is, they just aren’t conscious about it–this sensitivity expresses itself as crankiness, anger, irritation, feeling overwhelmed, especially at this time of year because all of the extra holiday stuff comes in to an already busy and full life and home.

My son had an appointment with an energy worker that I trust a few days after this.  What was interesting was that she looked at us and was like what is going on here with you two!  My son and I felt great but apparently there was some reverberations in our energy field.  We said nothing we feel good, everything is good, but she gave us this ‘I don’t believe you’ look.  We had forgotten about clearing everything out and hadn’t mentioned it.  It makes sense though because as we were clearing things out, old memories, both good and bad, emerged to be reviewed and purged. I saw her a couple days later and mentioned the clearing our of journals, etc. my son and I had done.  She asked me if I could just toss the journals without looking at them.  And I said “No, because there might be some pages I want to keep.”  She looked at me and said something like “Can you just trust that the memories are in your cells?”  So, I said I would try, but I didn’t want to.  For me that is not the way.  Believe me I want to.  It would have cut down hours and hours into an hour!  But there were a few thing mingled in that I did want.

So I skimmed even less because I didn’t want to bring many of the memories up, but part of me feels that maybe they got stirred up from out of my cells to be revisited one last time and then poof!  Gone forever or at least the memories will be a lot softer.  Even the good memories, the dates my husband and I would have with each of our kids and then we switched the following week, playing at the park for as long as my daughter wanted to stay (and that was always a long time lol– her eyes looking at me as she said “We can stay as long as I want to?” ending with a knowing smile that meant that we might be staying even longer than I was expecting), or pretending with my son that we were in The Spine from the book Eragon.  At first I didn’t remember that part.  But my heart and cells did.  Maybe a gratitude journal is the way for me to go.  That way it’s a simple block of gratitude and it’s emotions and a brief record of all the good things in my life.  Simple.  Compact.  Positive.  Light.  Up-lifting.  And then if I have other situations that I need to  process, I could write them down and then destroy them that day in order to process and clear things out immediately.

I know this is not for everybody.  Oprah still has her journals.  But for me this is my path. This is the way for me.  And maybe for you.  You could try it with just one piece of paper and see if it helps lighten your energy and spirit a little.  It’s very subtle.  But as I found out the reverberations of a clutter clear-out can last a few days.  So be gentle with yourself and with the others who come into your life.

One last note:  use feng shui.  I was listening to Dr. Mona Lisa Schultz on hayhouseradio.com and she said all your books and papers should in the Learning/Knowledge area (which is the area to the far left closest to where you walk into your home.  So I rearranged my bookshelves–what a huge difference it has made in my life working with the natural energy of clutter and feng shui where things want to be.  Just try it temporarily and see if it makes any difference in your home.

Namaste and many many blessings to you!***

(12/16/2012)  Addendum:  I forgot to add that after I’ve finished clearing things out, I use the mantra “Hung vajra peh” (hoong vahj-rah pay) which I found in one of Thomas Ashley-Farrand’s mantra books.  He had a brief story where he had continuosly chanted this mantra for hours to space clear his garage after he cleared out all the junk.  According to Ashley-Farrand, “Hung vajra peh” is used to “see the Earth’s layer of consciousness being cleansed of negative energy” (all the destructive negative thought-forms that are “(c)irculating like blobs of oil within the ocean of consciousness, these bits of gunk need to be neutralized in some way.”

oh, excuse me please

This poem I believe I found on a website called “Parent Soup Toddler” back around 2001.

I ran into a stranger as he passed by,

“Oh, excuse me, please”  was my reply.

He said, “Please excuse me, too;

I wasn’t watching for you.”

We were very polite, this stranger and I.

We went on our way and we said good-bye.

But at home a different story is told.

How we treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal.

My son stood beside me very still.

When I turned, I nearly knocked him down.

“Move out of the way,” I said with a frown.

He walked away, his little heart broken.

I didn’t realize how harshly I’d spoken.

While I lay awake that night in my bed,

God’s still, small voice came to me and said,

“While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use,

But the children you love, you seem to abuse.

Go and look on the kitchen floor,

You’ll find some flowers there by the door.

Those are the flowers he brought for you.

He picked them himself:  pink, yellow, and blue.

You never saw the tears that filled his little eyes.”

By this time I felt very small,

And now my tears began to fall.

I quietly went and knelt by his bed;

“Please wake up, little one,” I said.

“Are these the flowers you picked for me?”

He smiled, “I found ’em out by the tree.

I picked ’em because they’re pretty like you.

I knew you’d like ’em , especially the blue.”

I said, “Son, I’m very sorry for the way I acted today;

I shouldn’t have yelled at you that way.”

He said, “Oh, Mom, that’s okay.

I love you anyway.”

I said, “Son, I love you too, and

I do like the flowers, especially the blue.”

I don’t think I need to say anything.  I do know that I have been both that child and that mother.  I have been that mommy even while knowing this and trying to be very aware and conscious and mindful of everything (my thoughts, my actions, who’s around me, etc.), I still would get caught up in a rush to get dinner on the table or to get out the door.  I think I practically stopped breathing.  I was stressed and not getting my required oxygen to my brain which resulted in the fight or flight primitive mechanism kicking in and resulted in me talking somewhat like a cavewoman, “You.  Sit.  No.  You.  Here.  Eat.  Sit.  Now.” at mealtime and out the door was more like, “You.  Jacket.  Here.  Shoes.  No.  Sit.  You.  Put on.  Now.  Good.  Car.”  Maybe it wasn’t quite that bad and thankfully not that often but just one of those negative moments that seems to erase 1,000 positive patient moments.  I never thought that was fair.  That the positive moments were just so gentle and soft and sweet and often filled days with their kindness and then one negative moment felt like a tidal wave wiping away all of that sweetness.   Even then I tried to live Louise Hay’s affirmation that “I am exactly where I need to be.  Everything is in perfect order.”  Because of this, I noticed starting noticing sooner and sooner different aspects as I tuned into my life, my body, my mind, “Oh, I have not eaten anything.”  “Oh, I really don’t feel well.”  No wonder I was getting cranky, I was trying to shove through my day and I wasn’t recognizing that I was not eating or feeling well or that maybe my kids were not feeling well.

I also noticed that there is a sort of magical serendipity when I let go of where I thought I should be and where I actually was.  Because if I was supposed to be there, I would be, but I was not.  I was where I was supposed to be.  When I accepted that I wasn’t supposed to have made that green light, be eight minutes earlier, or been in front of that person who just got in front of me in line and I looked at it constantly from a spiritual, mystical perspective, there was a shift in my patience level for all of the mundane things in life and especially in those moments with my kids where something that should take five minutes would inevitably take eighteen which resulted in now being “late.”  But when I would take a breath (more oxygen!), leave for a moment, and know that we were exactly where we were supposed to be, the stress and tension would lift and patience, calm voices, and gentleness would take their place.

And then I would notice (not every time mind you), who and what we saw being exactly where we were, that we wouldn’t have seen if were the eight minutes earlier I thought we should be.  Sometimes it was a friend that if we were five seconds earlier or later we would have completely missed and it ends up being a fun play date for my kids.  Sometimes, it’s holding the door open for someone or having someone open the door for us.  Sometimes it’s seeing a cute dog or a funny looking car.  And even if it’s not true, I am happier and more patient living exactly where I am supposed to be and I get flowers in the vase faster with less sadness and tears and capture that special child generosity energy into my heart at the first fresh moment when they have a flower or a rock or a drawing or other interesting thing to show or tell me that I cannot get back with a “just a minute, tell me in a moment” moment because that energy diffuses along with that first burst of enthusiasm.  I also give more hugs of appreciation than  “I’m sorry hugs.”  And that has made all the difference.

education

I have had this poem for many years.

On Education–By:  Anonymous

He always wanted to explain things.

But no one cared.

So he drew.

Sometimes he would draw,

and it wasn’t anything.

He wanted to carve it in stone

or write it in the sky,

and it would only be him and the sky and

the things inside him that needed saying.

It was after that that he drew the picture.

It was a beautiful picture.

He kept it under his pillow

and would let no one see it.

He would look at it every night

and think about it.

When it was dark and his eyes were closed,

he could still see it.

When he started school,

he brought it with him,

not to show to anyone,

just to have along like a friend..

It was funny about school.

He sat at a square, brown desk,

like all the other square, brown desks.

He thought it should be red.

And his room was a square, brown room,

like all the other rooms.

It was tight and close and stiff.

He hated to hold the pencil and chalk,

his arms stiff, his feet flat on the floor,

stiff,

the teacher watching and watching.

The teacher came and spoke to him.

She told him to wear a tie

like all the other boys.

He said he didn’t like them.

She said it didn’t matter!

After that they drew.

He drew all yellow.

It was the way he felt about the morning,

and it was beautiful.

The teacher came and smiled at him.

“What’s this?” she said.  “Why don’t you

draw something like Ken’s drawing?

Isn’t that beautiful?”

After that, his mother bought him a tie,

and he always drew airplanes and rocketships

like everyone else.

And he threw the old picture away.

And when he lay alone looking at the sky,

it was big and blue and all of everything,

but he wasn’t anymore.

He was square inside and brown

and his hands were stiff.

He was like everyone else.

The things inside that needed saying

didn’t need it anymore.

It had stopped pushing.

It was crushed.

Stiff.

Like everything else.

I realize there are many wonderful teachers, schools and philosophies out there, but I remember when I used to spend time in the career center in college and students would come in and some wanted to be teachers and some said well if this doesn’t work out I’ll just become a teacher.  Well, I’m sure you can guess who I thought was going to become a good teacher and whose class I’d want my children to be in.

I love Rudolf Steiner and the Waldorf school approach.  Could you imagine if our public schooling system was infused with addressing the needs of the whole child (body, heart, mind, spirit) which supports and reinforces their confidence, along with reverence for life and making a contribution to the world, a love of lifelong learning and a sense of wonder of the world?  Where teachers are nurtures and stay with one class for eight years and are a mentor to the children and really know them.  I realize that there is no perfect system, but what if…

“The most important thing she’d learned over the years was that there was no way to be a perfect mother [you can add teacher, father, etc.] and a million ways to be a good one.”  Jill Churchill, writer

There have been many quotes about how we need to start with the children in order to change the world.  So why don’t we just start with making small shifts and baby steps, I guess we are, I am.  I just need to remember that there are changes being made, just very slowly and often I can’t see them.

“Be mindful of your words, for they can cause both joy and pain.”  –Buddhist saying

“Wounded children become wounded adults, and wounded adults can destroy the world.” –Marianne Williamson

“Be yourself.  Who else is better qualified?”–Frank J. Giblin II

the birth of the lotus seed journals

I believe I found the quote on the left-hand page in a Lama Surya Das book; it is a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson  “Make your own Bible, select and collect all the words and sentences that in all your reading have been to you like the blast of triumph out of Shakespeare, Seneca, Moses, John and Paul.”  Wait, don’t take the word “Bible” literally.    I realize it can bring up a lot of different things for people.  As I had been holding on to many pieces of paper since I was a little girl, big and small, of quotes, sayings, inspirational things, interesting things, etc. and so forth and on and on and paper clutter unorganized EVERYWHERE.  I took this as inspiration to write them in one place and in a beautiful notebook and in a legible hand.  Well, one book immediately went to two, three, four, etc..

I love the quote on the right by Chuang Tzu because I feel that stillness/meditation is more important than any one can tell us.  I believe that is where healing, peace, love, contentment, intuition, questions, answers, and incredible joy can be found.  The quote states, “Men [and of course women] cannot see their reflection in running water, but only in still water.  Only that which is itself still can still the seekers of stillness.”

And only when you have mastered the art of being still (and glimpsed who your true self is) can you go out into the world and help those who are seeking the stillness that you have found.

I also like the quote by Thomas Edison–I’ve seen different ones but the basic is this:  when asked how it felt to fail so many times, Edison replied (I’ve seen different answers) either “I never failed once.  It was a two-thousand step process.”  Or “I know two-thousand ways to not make a lightbulb.”

(The picture of the woman praying was from an issue of O, The Oprah Magazine from many years ago.  Let me say this–it is not just a photo–I am brought into this photo and feel like I am there.  It evokes a visceral emotion.)

tonight I sit in stillness

tonight I meditate…I sit in stillness

it’s different tonight

I feel the vibration from the middle of my  ears expanding up to the top of my head

and then I let go because I am holding on

let go again because my mind is clenching, trying to whipstitch my body mind emotions together   afraid to allow, melt, dissolve,  be…no not afraid, resistant

challenging a practice that has breathed in beauty and magic into my life, ethereal signs, ideas, visions, guidance

…and I let go once more…finally embracing the energy of stillness that surrounds me

if you knew…by cory

if you knew

it would be the last time

would you feel differently

than you did?

would you sense it

hear it, see it, smell it

feel it, taste it

differently

more intensely

lopsided maybe

seeing more not sensing more

feeling more not smelling more

colors, perhaps

the greenness

green and brown surrounding

the soft earthy damp-warm air

touching the hairs on your skin

tingling

feeling your heart thumping

trying to realize breathing, air, quickness

expanding

your lungs

feet pounding on mossy paths

leading you’re not quite sure where

then seeing fades

and it all becomes green

splashed with brown patches, trunks, branches, earth-mud

lovely

dog tags jangling

dog breath panting

birds chirping, singing, pecking, laughing…

the magical buzz, flitting

insect song-singing,

slithering, flipping, turning–wings snapping

in the sparkly air

voices laughing, connecting, inviting, wondering

thoughts and words entangled in

the mossy green-brown sing-song

air

with dog tags tangling

bird breath chirping

insects panting

feet snapping

in the space of afterward that remained…

would you see it, sense it, feel it hear it, taste it

differently

if, at the time,

you knew

it would be the last?

The Lodge: by Cory

Shaking, trembling

anxious, nervous

curious to experience

The lodge.  A sweat.

Two of us

huddled,

welcomed and comforted

by loving souls

Their eyes

told me there were no worries

their voices

answered questions not yet asked.

The fire split rays of warmth between us

The man with the gentle eyes

and pure heart

taught us prayer pouches

Colored pieces of fabric

black for water, yellow creativity and New beginnings

red for the strength I knew my son needed,

Blue, green, white, purple…

Each waved in smoke of burning sage

Purified

A pinch of tobacco

purified and placed in the cloth

A prayer blown into it

and caught with string.

These four bundles

Prayers from the soul-

I held onto them tenderly.

I entered cool darkness of the lodge

loosely tied the prayers above

tickling my crown

I tried to let them go.

I sat and waited

for the glowing rocks

to be welcomed in-

placed in the earth–ancestors from

east, west, north, south, heaven, earth

brought, gifted to us.

Throughout the four rounds of beauty and heat

my heart listened to prayers

and Lakota songs

I prayed for my son and my daughter

and silently asked

that all prayers be answered–those spoken

as well as those that remained

unspoken

in the heart.

After the first round

I felt I glistened

but it was swollen

with what was to come.

As the door flap closed

signaling the second round

my body greeted

the new rocks

with an explosion of drenching

endless sweat.

When I could catch neither

my breath nor my heart

I grasped cool Mother Earth

and pressed myself into her

my heart stopped wildly beating, my breath slowed…

When we emerged and were

birthed outside once more

and had given gestures of thanks to everyone

I placed my colored prayers

into the fire

to be transformed into smoke

to reach the ancestors

for their answers, guidance, support.

After a feast

I said goodbye to the lodge

the same way I first greeted it

shaking, trembling

yet not because I was anxious or nervous

but rather because

I had released and embraced

so much

in so little time.

Whispering

thank you

to those seen

and unseen

and to the different directions

did not seem enough…but then

I waited…held in stillness and

I melted…melted into all of it

and was one

with the very air

I breathed.