Ye who have eyes and ears… and fully awake

I used you to read Jesus’ parable-teaching lectures and all they were for a very long while were just that- parables. I used to think could he not just get to the point!

Until I understood that it was up to me to make sense of the message as it applies to my heart, life situation and the worlds-heaven and earth and the same principle applied to every human being

The ability to perceive the secrets of the corporate cloak of political and belief intrigue is a God ordained gift wired in each person. It is a matter of tapping into Essence and zoom in on the maze at the right spot and the right moment. In order to accomplish that, one must be au courant in the real world- with eager ears, unyielding spirit and, eyes the size of saucers without the caffeine overkill -while the cosmos flashlights shine brightly on the imitation version of the real world.

Life parables will make sense and the imitations will be in full view.

Decision-making is then based on sound reasoning otherwise known as, divine intelligence.

Heaven did not just hand out this godability to a selected few. When the most evolved teacher warned that some may not get it, he was not referring to the godbality; personally I sense that he was referring to the fact that some may not get the underlying message of his way of helping people help themselves and, ultimately save themselve, which now that I come to see Jesus’ point in my own kind of way, make the parables unparabled.

Encouraging people to think for themselves is what Jesus is about and the mystery makers plotted the story to favour the hype and gung ho of hell bashing and soul squashing. Well God is about to run through town Earth and rip all the shrouds.

Mother Nature and Father Time are taking their positions!

Revalation's message of thousand year reign is yelping its wake up call!

Curiosity curtailing curtains unshrouded

Doing something differently the same old way
Waiting a lifetime to be told about the path that leads to the unknown
Wanting so much to peep behind the curtains to see what God is up to
A daily routing masked by unminding business

Trekking where no one has really gone and everyone longs to go
Sometimes i wish that i hadn’t make it to the unshrouded junction
But always glad to have the option
Somehow it helps me to cooperate... to enjoy the commission
It even helps to take off the load and keep me on the road.
I even have the choice to waltz in... it always already knows when I want to and that I need to, anyway

I have even entertained the idea that maybe I will get there and it won’t notice or I get there and the place is empty -no God; even then I will know that is a trick because it can’t resist the alluring self in me that it longs to be with…forever.
Knowing that liberates my mind as my body muses with spirit and going places - tiptoeing, trembling, teetering into places unknown…

action plan

a life ten years… fourteen years …forty years in the making and still planning
most of this lifetime of planning is still in the making and it is all gooooooood
from aimlessly purposed to purposeful aiming; it’s that simple because in God’s world ‘its too late’ does not exist

matter-of-factness

lots of oops and unoops, discovering, uncovering, recovering, noncovering…topped with laughing, learning, dreaming, unlearning, dancing, singing, enough tears to quench earth dryness…
This is living …
That ought to break down the walls of despair and send all its roommates the quarry!

Fantastic!

Courting life with reckless abandon and passion is a risk worth taking in the land of the living and, considering how many times OmniGod has had to put me back in its oven, it is amazing that I am not yet burnt to a crisp. I dare continue to invite Essence to woo me with adventurously frisky excursions even when that means waking me up in the middle of my sleep to remind me that I am not alone and then keep me awake as it rummages my heart, looking for secrets…

Sometimes I wonder, what’s next!

Sojourner, pilgrim; it doesn’t matter. So long as I am free to enjoy and choose to enjoy another day knowing that I can live it as though I will never die and as certain as I know that I will die with a smile from ear to ear, crispy and happy to have made it all the way through to the other side.

Resonant Recovering

The memory of poverty and the burden endured to satisfy survival of the fittest syndrome in a dog eat dog world where dogs do not even eat dogs makes contentment of innate endowment seem to be dishonoured and treated as garbage. The universe is allowing the subtle change in my perception to assist in releasing the myth that money can expand one’s happiness.

I sense that the stress of equating everything worthwhile with what is bankable is causing the disappointment that the mind had been experiencing when body resigned from constant doing that was wearing and tearing its state of optimal existence.

Money is the means of assisting humanity to invest in goods and services for survival. This fact made the mind accept that a shift in awareness of all the gifts that inherent wisdom want it to honour as it explores new ways and attaining everyday essentials with least effort and even with no effort.

That made the wholeness of being a concept that the mind is now enjoying. The Universe continues to deliver the manufactured money and I continue to invent ways to support everlasting ecstasy.

Life finds myriad of ways to help me remember that I am already a precious being and that no amount of reproach or praise can undo that fact. Even though my body continues to change it knows that given the right conditions the brain can restore its plasticity as DNA and RNA sustain their integrity to structure me in ways that I can continue to celebrate being alive according to cosmic conditions.

To top it all up with a big bonus I am always free to re-evaluate my intentions and remain open to possibilities that life is using to manifest right conditions for the outcomes I desire to envision, dream and act on.

Festoon Season

When the refiner’s fire itself becomes a seat of all consciousness, there is no place I’d rather be

When the blood of Jesus itself becomes a salvation swimming pool, there is no other place I’d rather be
When the fires of hell itself becomes the haven of comfort, there is no other place I’d rather be.

You see, in the end
Here is no better than there or, thereafter. It’s good to know that for sure, before my final bow of earthly performance.

So footloose or not, as long as I am in this world, I’ll moonlight on the journey to return to the memory of oneness with my Essence. I know that in the big picture, I am never really alone.

Thank goodness, most kindly, for all the help and helpers that have made and continue to make this mission possible!

Cathartic Conditioning

Developing outside the womb has its perks.

As much as I enjoyed the comfort of growing in the dark where inner light shines bright I am beginning to appreciate shining even brighter where the intelligence of uncertainty leads me on without encasing the mind in a tomb where soul was tricked to go and rest in peace

Fulfilling its reasoning for journeying on in spite of and inspired by all life’s vicissitudes the law of perfect order of the universe continues to arrange what is in ways I can attend to consciously. Of course, cosmos already knows that this is the sure-fire strategy for promoting self responsibility.

Experimenting, learning, experiencing, practicing, visioning, growing, adventuring, exploring, creating continue to happen most naturally as I accept and celebrate my cycles of being

Gesundheit

My flaws are constantly in my face as if God is holding its torch right between my eyes with no intention to back off. The more I think that heaven is shining its beam on my foibles to make fun of me and I in turn make fun of it for the way it chose to make me, the more it says otherwise. I quit trying to get that Light off my secret places where it alone has the key to that part of me where words, actions- justifying, lamenting, or otherwise are never allowed.

And though matter what I use to substitute the linen cloth that shrouds the penetrated delusions of why I am here, essence knows just how to use stillness to move, rake and shake, rivet and, satisfy the soul, stimulate the senses, stun the emotions, inspire the mind and sway the body in finesse fancy.

Spirit resumes its focus and of course that’s when the Lord-of-the-lightening-lights takes away its beam. I would think that is when it would switch on its all-high beam so I know that I know that all is well. This is just another way of reminding me who’s in charge and who gets all the glory and hallelujah praise. I tell you, the way God works!

musing by the labyrinth

visiting my head and exploring my mind several times a day is a ritual affair; still I most enjoy lingering in the cherished cozy corners- my heart and gut.
Is that why food and love go well together?
Maybe that is why sheep only lie down after having their fill.
And a baby, is that why a baby will stop all fussing at the suck of its parent’s nipple
Is that why a hungry person is an angry person?
Is that why the temptation to trade birthright-treasures intensifies with the velocity of a growling gut
Is that why I love spending so much time trusting my gut again?
Is that why i am musing on this labyrinth on June 21st 2008?

Thanks solstice, for this opportunity

Farther than nearer, nearer than far

Fidelity is always on the lookout whether I am one step closer to the finish or ten steps farther from the start it doesn’t make any difference to the redeemer.

Sometime this rings loud and clear in my head and other times the words are yelling, “is anyone home?” My light bulbs totally blow! That’s the seesaw of life!

I am right along for its roller coaster ride.

Lifesaving skill

Allowing myself to consciously revisit all the oops and supposedly oops trails was a necessary gut wrenching tool and has added richness to my emotional library. There was no other way to go forward than to step back and open my heart, mind and brain… my whole self’s attentions and leap.

I have now become one of life’s keen observers and pensive thinker and if that’s what is written on my death certificate then hallelujah; and if I never fully find myself or know all about everyone else, I’d have tried.

All I can continue to agree to do is to never ridicule, brush off, masquerade anyone’s dream or, desire to dream or, find out who they are or share their point of individual perspective- maybe that is all that keeps them alive and hopeful and making them tick and ticked off.

It’s important for each one to want know himself or herself where there lies many answers, many simple answers to big-little-people-question. There’s no greater rewarding skill than the art of knowing one’s self.

That’s what I believe anyway. As for the rest ... the rest continues to present itself each time I rise to greet the day and bow to welcome the night.

A mature student

A mature student? I was already mature long before I even knew it. Long before I was given the option to begin the university career as a matter student.

I followed protocol and bam… I’m in… in the honours program. I thought great! Until I understood that it had nothing to do with my high calibre grades already attained at its precursors but extra credit requirement, which meant more money that I did not have, or care to spend to get the answers I felt I seriously needed to make it through. And all that experiential hard knocks did not even count for advanced standing ovations. What the hell!

I went along for a while and after my bus stalled for the third time I decided that’s it.

There got to be a better way. For my sake, there had better be a better way.

I began chatting up my weird self; keeping it busy and on the ball because I was on a roll or may it had put me on a role. Hah, this is no small jealous God I was dealing with. We challenged each other; I won, it won… it won, I won.

A whole new ball of wax began taking shape as it melted in my cerebral cortex.
I graduated from wanting to understand myself to wanting to know myself and progressed to wanting to understand life itself. Which now that I come to think of it is what I really wanted to know all along and that’s what all these weird dialogue were injecting in and infected my mind with the whole time with topics that provoked my curiosity to find out:

Where did you come from?
How did I find myself there- by the where, that was one of the lame elucidations
How do babies find their way in their mothers’ belly
I was really fascinated by that mountain that protruded from the lady’s stomachs… I mean how much did she have to eat, she could hardly walk? And the next day poof- stomach gone and baby in arms and I want to know how did the baby find its way out… that must be some intelligence that no one needs to teach her or him and how do twins know which is first? Don’t get me started with my curiosity about multiple births when I heard that one and two are average.
The big scariers were the ones about the reason to go through life only to die and be put in a big hole and covered as though hidden treasure that never get discovered, ever again...that later explained as death.
Why do people die?
What was so bad that they did?
Why would God kill his children; let them starve, work so hard for a snack; let them cry and get sick and pray and pray and pray without ceasing. Where’s the fun in that! The fun though was in asking all of these questions, musing my art of asking the right questions and not too interested in the answer as much as at the look in those eyes that stared down the chimney that led to my heart.

Too many big questions from such a small sickly child. Honestly from that time onwards I thought and began to believe I was a serious case of difficult little big person to get along in this world and in mine and God’s and everybody’s and that I was in for a lifetime of being strange, different and even at times a great intruder in the most irritating kind of way.

I was sorry that I was such a menace and did everything I could to correct that; and when I could not think of any way out I asked God to remake me. I wonder what God did when I prayed that! I think I have a pretty good idea.

So many opportunities to unfold our petals and let our beautiful flowers flourish are tossed and trampled and, then left to fade away and ‘die’.

The dawn of startingovers

Nearly ten years ago when I first decided that it was time to pursue the academic goal that would have earned me an undergrad degree, I had no hesitation about what major would be my alliance in attaining that accomplishment. I sense that my choice then would resurrect my legitimate area of interest:
To understand myself- why I tick, breathe, and get ticked
Why I am curious and more so why it was considered such a repulsive trait
Why I responded to something I just reacted to- same shit, different texture and smell.
What does response time have to do with prime time?
What draws me to people and what draws people to me?
How do I understand people; how do people understand me? Is that even possible?
What’s with the birds of the feather and tell me who your friends are analogies
And where did certain phenomena come from without any clue why they are there

All this really got started when I- decades ago- had the inner inkling to stop following orders without knowing the end result. That got me in a lot of trouble- heck it still does to this day. And somehow I sense it will as long as I have breath. And I wanted to know the answer to this big question…why.

These were the questions along with many others I had been soughting after way back when I was told that these matters were out of my league and that I should and must learn to leave well alone and let sleeping dogs lie hardy hardy hardy hart. That in and of itself sparked a fire in my brain and bones and my bottomless pit question grew wider than the ocean. I vow from then on to be on this mission… to find answers. I wanted to know why these interests of mine was shun without even bothering go offer some explanation. Mind you, there were some really lame ones. They just never suffice to even keep an empty bag from falling. My eagerness to explore expanded and the mind somehow at this tender age knew I understood why intelligence gave me the ability to think. I was convince that is what is was until I began to believed that my imagination was weird, to weird. What am I suppose to do when the weird dialogue acts up in my chest and in my gut and I just cannot turn this damned thing off… this damned good thing this good damned thing keeps talking to me knowing how much trouble I was getting into because of it and it was never there to defend my case or maybe it was its own case.

Some how with great effort I was able to turn this damned thing off for a couple decades. In my mind I knew the day would come when I would hunt the universe to find that thing back.

But for then I left well alone. And decided to take on another angle. By then though, I was as domesticated as a white tiger, cobra and lion living in a volcano in the middle of a social zoo.
Though the social way of behaving seems important to survive with the fittest, it did not feel as normal as when I used to have those weird dialogues when I was learning to assimilate. That would make it okay or at least it would make me okay if I could have both. So I decided to go where somewhere where someone could teach me to be normal. The next social ladder was what I expected to have climbed academically, at least. I split the choice between Psychology and Sociology and in walks in Philosophy. I decide to major in Psychology and electives would be Philosophy and Sociology. I had a generous serving of each. Whoa!

Then my bus began stalling and decided I had no time for the mechanic. If anything this wseemed like a clear indication that time is running out and, I still have no answers and, I had no clue where to look for my ‘feel good’ insider’s mate!

Well that little weird voice began speaking in a language that jerked me and I cursed it as though getting back at it for all the time it ‘dumped me’ and left me bemoaned.

That was God. The God that I thought I ‘d never meet face to face in blood and flesh just like me

All this time I was discreetly searching for the source of that weirdo in me and of course when I found it I went berserk, it went berserk; “what the hell happened to you…to us?” I bellowed, “You have some nerve! Where the heck were you?”

Bantering, bickering, forgiving, pursuing and pursuing and startingovers, uphill, downhill. That has been going for the last decade.

Meanwhile, I do the social things right along in almost the same way… Bantering, bickering, forgiving, pursuing and pursuing and startingovers, uphill, downhill. That too has been going for the last decade.

The payoff of wilderness wandering

I don’t know and may never know for sure about bottomless pits but in the pit of my stomach, way down in my gut dwells bottomless questions that I often bumped in during my fierce wondering in the dark hole of wilderness, where silence abodes

Somehow, each time I get there, silence rouses from its dream state, stretches, yawns and glows and suddenly it feels like home to me. A place where being and being there is not a crime, staying is always an option and leaving is recommended. It is so exotic, so captivating that I want to stay there and just ask questions and ask more questions and pry and probe and prod and then wait and wait and wait for the unanswered answers. Then I stomp out of there vowing to never return to ask questions and want answers to unanswerable questions.

Soon enough though, I am back sometimes just for the heck of it. Just knowing that I can come there under the terms and conditions of the cosmos. That’s what I love most about the bottomless questions. I knew there was a reason for those bottomless questions and why I never really care if I never get the answers when and as I expect. In the beginning that used to be a shock and a surprise at time a shocking surprise. I wondered, doesn’t God have tongue, cheek and teeth? I often waited for it to bite me! It never did and that was bittersweet. Now it is just sweet.

Whenever I choose to make my way back to the wilderness, death stands outside the door eavesdropping and wishing its time for it to spring in to its renowned responsibility. Then I hear it sobbing when it overhears that its gonna be a long, long time and a long wait before it escorts me to my final resting place.

It then scampered off. It’s sting fell off like a dead flower from its life support.

How’s that for a true story that I live to tell.

The medicine of writing

Growing up, I had neglected what’s since become the very therapeutic way of expressing my feelings and a wholesome way of honouring my emotions. Instead I had resorted to angry outbursts, tears of helplessness and thoughts of resentment, all of which drained every bit of worthiness from my spirit. This mental torture continued until I was exhausted, so exhausted that I yelled at everyone and everything, then I yelled at God. I yelled until I heard his voice, so soft, yet so consoling, and for the first time I proved that my first impression of him was very wrong. Conversely it was the first time I really had the chance to see him for who he really is. Thank goodness, for by then I needed some healthy way to rid myself of all the negative energy and pent up emotions that eroded my being.

I realized that not only did I abandon a great gift. I neglected myself. I suffered from dwelling too much on the pain and the disappointments of the past. I existed in a future of fears, unknowns and anxieties. I acknowledged the part that this disease played in depriving myself of enjoying what is- I either did not attend to the challenge or taking on so much at once, causing emotional and physical circuit overload. It took three explosions that landed me in the arms of the psychiatry waiters to realize that I was not doing myself any good.

When the anger began spewing out, it was so furious that the paper wished that it were still part of a tree somewhere in the forest. The ink bled through the tear soaked pages of my writing pad.

The raging anger was not the only factor that hindered my releasing and writing process.

When something came up that I was not prepared to admit or not yet ready to reveal or was afraid to allow God to inspect, wash away and bake me in its refiners fire- again and again, I would close up and my fingers would stop writing. Many times I struck a deal with God for an easier way out but deep down I knew that I did not want ot go on like this forever. So after a few time outs the strength from within me awakened and I broke through what I referred to as my “writers’ block”. I kept writing and crying, crying and writing. Most importantly I began the healing process as I released the deadly poisons.

Writing without the fear of exposing the deepest feelings opens up the soul and allows the creative juices to flow. It brings healing where there once was disease and imbalance.

To fully accomplish this I had to forget about grammar. I also had to ignore the ‘voices’ that reminded me of what the audience would think of me. All that mattered and continues to help me digest my life was finding peace and along the way, my core self. I did! And this is a gift to myself that I intend to honour in a manner that baffles logic. I know that no matter how much is taken from me, no one can ever steal this treasure from me.

The wrestle with God and myself subsided. The agonizing battle ended. It was then that I embraced and accepted him as my best friend, also it was about that time I revisited my long forgotten-about gift. I unlocked my talents that God had bestowed on me long, long ago and with divine help, I resolved to use my talents to creatively express my moments along the way. I began trapping the thoughts, saving them to paper, my hands, and the computer before they quietly and sadly leave as they used to when I used to ignore them. Like me, they must have shed a million tears…tears of rejection…of abandonment and of disappointment.

What a relief to sit, write and watch the juggled words transform into expressions and healing therapy…Aaaahhh! No medication ever had that effect on my nerves! Angel of remembering just refreshed my awareness; “the first poem you composed not only granted you a glimpse of the treasure within you! It was a high school prized-winner. Allow this fact keeps me company as I live my life, moment by moment.”

And so, determined to turn pain into purpose, I trusted myself to rekindle the friendship with my writing. My passion to express myself soon began to blossom new ideas, thoughts, visons and feeling of healing and living. How enriching, how nourishing, how potent is the medicine of writing!

Delectable Delight

Poisoned truth; poisonous proof- deadly weapons aimed at the untamable...the unconquerable. It is as hopeless as insisting on wanting to domesticate God; seducing its might with even the most potent scheme, is like messing with ungrounded voltage in a lethal minefield

The attacks, unrelenting with fierce resolve, to kill murder and maim, realizes its own fate, relinquishes its contempt and begins to become fascinated with its opponent- its lover, in disguise-and reaches closer and falls in love, even with the terror of knowing love; being love and loved while still afraid of love was the spell that left the self spellbound- spellbound and soaring skybound.

Isn’t that wonderful!

Fangs of Frustration

When the rope of frustration is dangling in my mind, patience and perseverance leap to duty; covering my brain; sheltering my mind and anchoring the apprehensiveness that distresses the heart.

The fangs of frustration excuse themselves and tranquillity resumes it lull; or even though as most often is the case, just the notion of serenity and magnanimity is enough to return me to the state of grace and I breathe a sigh of relief after yet another narrow escape.

Introspection

The feelings as though I am walking on the edge of life, very occasionally reoccur; still I continue to believe that life’s plot for my life and all its experiences are all to serve a very special purpose, some of many of which one cannot seem to grasp in advance- in order words; nothing can help, because there is not always a rehearsal in this ready or not back to the future forward to the past way of living. That, more than the part itself, is what I had much trouble getting programmed and in some instance reprogrammed into my brain.

Nevertheless, I continue to rekindle trust that life is unfolding as it did from the beginning of time in, exactly the right direction and timing, for exactly the right reason. The good thing is I am learning from every experience and this in and of itself generates a domino and ripple effect. Maybe that’s all the part I will qualify for, if so; then I content myself and resolve to perform it well. I therefore, anticipate being happy and productive even after my skin sags and body parts trade places and spaces. I keep on learning all the way through life as I grow, and grow, and grow and, even when I groan.

Unsweetening Update

There was time when the demands, expectations and pressures of living a normal life drained all sweetness from being, which to me, is the norm of normal life.

Then I decided that it was high time to unclad myself from the straitjacketed normal life-the damning normal life and its once-upon-a-time prized-possessions. When I started the task I felt like I needed to double my calorie intake of healthy meals and snacks so as to complete the mission.

It turns out that repossessing- although I now prefer the word reclaiming- my emotions as part and parcel of my being normal, which incidentally is unnormally the real norm, keeps me wanting to indulge in the forbidden foods- sweet, sugary brain food in everything I crave. I continue to ally with the brain cells booster that I cannot have and cannot seem to suppress my brain from desiring. Talk about a double whammy!

Unlearning the mythical menace of the connection between the sweet and sugary blood still seem beyond logical explanation. Considering how much starch, sugar-refined and unrefined that I have been avoiding like the plagues of God, my glycemic index should be way below zero by now. But no, it keeps rising and raising its gleaming figures and its scary sugary side effect stories seem to take pleasure in retelling its tales of woes.

What do I do? My brain is pounding for some of that glucose that the high carb-low GI foods are slow in delivering.

I will have bowl of ice cream topped with roughage and exercise and then carry on with the emotional unloading and rebalancing because frankly, between a sugarless life and stressful living, I choose to suck on the sweetness of the marrow of life. The body is vitally important and so is sweetness of spirit; synergistically they need each other to fully function and so the body cannot always run the show nor the shadow of the mind fight to win its bravado.

This unsweetening update took disease by surprise; granted it has not been the first notice I served it. It just never took me seriously!
So indeed
A good idea not acted upon is as good as death
A bad idea acted out is as good as life

Another escorted cadaver

God must have good reason to give us bodies with its needs in order to carry out its purpose: to house the soul.

The sanctimonious send off of a body as it is escorted through the pearly gates of decomposition kingdom in grand style mausoleum while its soul roams and romances the Universe vying for another chance or tormenting the heavens for answers, explanation and directions to the promised land of milk and honey only to be escorted to heavens no fix address attic waiting for a new or maybe an already existing body seems to me that the body receives more regard after its retirement-stripped of its redeemed rights then honoured after the fact.

As long as this body -mutated cells, malformed and all- continue to fulfill its redemptive rights and, spirit renews it strength my sojourning continues. Oh what a day when fixation loses its fix on the way my mind chooses to make sense of this journey.

After my soul separate from the body, all that will mark my tombstone is the inscription: God Knows!

No fanfare sendoff, no gloom; just a party that makes the dust gone before revel in ad infintum festival. I recall when I first made this request open knowledge to some of family decades ago; one next of kin treated it as the most crazy, morbid, unrealistic, farfetched desire.

Too bad, because that’s my idea of celebrating life and, I am not foolish nor is it foolish!

I baptize you

The stupid sin of thinking that I could take over life’s work was plaguing my sanity; the more I pinned God down the more God knocked me off with a mighty breath that was strong enough to knock supercilious down to its knees and that was no praying stance if you ask me. Once down on its knees OmniGod sheltered its integrity and left it down long enough to accomplish OmniGod size work. The sky would then brighten. I would wake up from my slumber only to resume the same damn shit; was it that? or was the damned shit the temptation to kick OmniGod to the curb and render it useless and fall for the murky soup of slow suicide disguised as the only way out of hell medications.

Which is it?

Thank you for baptizing me as I choose and with my own name; for wrestling the damn shit out of me and implanting my very own truth in me and the bonus of my very own voice to testify as life ordain me to.

Well OmniGod I never thought I would have been praying such a prayer and I am not even on my knees and it feels good for a change to pray while the cloud of hope and joy give me a ride in the sky… a natural high that I am not about to baptize with the name, schizophrenia.

Living in two worlds: overwhelming dilemma

How do I know that OmniGod is still the One
How do I stay focused on swimming upstream when the current is flowing downstream?
How do I know what I need to do when I am downstream?
How do I know what I need to do when I am upstream?
How do I invest wisely whether I am upstream of downstream?
How do I know when to wait, wait patiently; and when to act, act wisely?
I pray with the same feverishly intent- without the worry and sometime with the worry!

Then I shake it and fill it to brim with a generous extra of faith that the God of discernment of all things, all thoughts, all emotions will sought it all out…even when no words are required or necessary

Bombarded between whole and hole with the decision to choose from is like walking on a tight rope so far up in the sky that the trampoline appears to be not anywhere in plain sight where I will need it. And looking ahead of the trek superimposed on the jagged edge of a cliff doesn’t help either. Its like Peter walking up and down and around the lake of Galilee all fine and dandy until the wind began to blow!

By design, I know first instinct would be to trust the maker of the wind; by habit I have become prone to believing that a blob of terror is mightier than the wind-charmer.

Maintaining a balance between heavenly-mindedness with earthly-purpose is the practical solution to being earthly-purposed with heavenly-mindedness. Even beginning to begin to focus on the difference is triggering trust and panic in the headquarters of confusion and clarity. Guiding God, transform my understanding of the difference between the two worlds: the seeking soul of a committed citizen.

So I continue to do what I do best- exploring the mind and writing its message using my very own voice.

So help me OmniGod

Wild-Child Living

An abysmal track record of right intentions competes with my courage to follow my heart and as much as it would still get me to the pathway that intersect life and living I’d rather not give up on my self ever again.

Sometimes I feel that I have lost all that I really want and although it is only a feeling that this is so it becomes totally distracting; still I continue to dissolve the pain and hurt of disappointment that brings on this woeful state of being.

The thing that always work well in gentle bringing me back to real time is, rethinking of myself from the inside out- a wild child. Everything else is secondary. This is very much possible and soul already knows that this is not open for discussion or, for grabs because it is sealed with the stamp of approval of the creator and author of my life.

the thing is I am completely or, maybe almost is the more accurate word, unrelgious as it would apply to culting as I refer to it... where the congregation itself is a prime example of segregation. not surprisingly so to me now as when I could not understand why I felt so in place out of place in the to be place. The unsurprised in those long ago days makes sense in the present state of my mind because as much as I still do not like to accept the fact is still is the fact to me anyway-the foundation of religions no matter its original and mandate is still underlying a social structure- like political government with its norm, mores and classes of isms.

the truth about me is that I was born to be unnatural; I was born to enjoy wild child experiences with the heart of a quiet warrior.This the way I want to live and this is the way I want to die because I firmly believe within myself that this is how I was born to live and this is how I must die to consider living my life to the max and, if I find out that there is in fact more to opulent afterlife and that I am not a fitting candidate then I will gladly be escorted to the hereafter walking on my head and fanning the air with my withered legs.

what's next?

I don't know

Smog Alert

who needs to go off to the desert or camp on the equator
and who on this earth is thinking of skipping a long cold shower or a blast of cold air
who can putt in this glaring, blaring heat without dismantling the sun's terror

and, this
is
just
beginning

as for me...

it is a good day to be in a air conditioned atmosphere where my thoughts continue to flow through my fingers... at a computer lab.

Comme ci, comme ça

It is incredibly startling how I retreat to my old mindset of OmniGod when my buttons seem pushed past limits with no clear explanation or apparent reason.

Since everything happens for a reason I know that there is good reason for my recent wanderings that brought me back to times when I used to believe that God had already finished doing everything that’s required and I got a poor hand of cards and well, tough! and that the rough, rigid, rascal was having trouble coming up with a back up plan to undo the damage of such ruthless use of intelligence and so I was left on my own to figure out life .

It is amazing I still have tongue, teeth, lips and cheeks and that God’s wrath did not finish me up!

Thank God for setting the record straight: no need to continue believing that old definition of God. Since I have, even for a moment, been able to have a personal concept of the God who changest not and I need to continue reinforcing my relationship with the OmniGod as I chose to as I understand; I thought that by now the fact that I took the time to really know the Holy-High God and personally defining OmniGod would make it easy to not revert to the ruffian-God and maintain the gusto of least resistance of life’s fray which I know still comes and sometimes comes in unexpected ways as long as I am flesh and blood.

My wheel got stuck, I’ll say. And of course, whom did I call on for help when yet another stall in unbelief muckland attempted to grind me?

Dear OmniGod:

My apologies for my blasting when your presence seem to have left me, I am not sure why; all I know is you are in all of this perplexity and complexity. For that reason I felt safe even when I was rehashing how I used to think of you… it was as though I just lost it with you!

Thank you for being blatant with me and for reopening my heart and mind’s eyes and realigning them so I reconnect with you the God who knows all things, sees all things and understands all things.

This is way better than a flogging with no intrinsic reward, even in hindsight.

As it was in the beginning…

I noticed that hunger made people sell their birthright; the famine- equivalent to recession and inflation- made some sell their livestock in exchange for rations; desires made some barter their prized possessions and the anguish to make it through the day made many volunteer to become slaves and still some bargaining with God to avoid discipline; even to end their misery was a common plea with the Almighty.

Another common ground is the effect of greed, some hoarded the harvest and the resources; building bigger barns to hide the riches and wealth taxing over and above.

In this same resourceful guide are examples of compassion, celebration, faux pas, warriors seeking justice, freedom, assertiveness, courage, feasting.

So in fact there have always been characters such as displayed in this day and age.
The one that still get me is that God had no qualms about being jealous enough to make sure there is no other Number One. Why does OmniGod, the creator and owner of everything and everyone has to be so concerned about something or someone taking its place?

Maybe once bitten, twice shy!

And why did OmniGod take six days to set things in motion and why the need for rest
I think it is to indicate the relevance of self-preservation and self care.

Links of a Chain

The deeper I pry into the mind of Intelligence, the more I understand the thread that hems Creation with the Creator.

The more questions I have especially when reading the chain of events from the beginning of life’s story, the more I believe that modern day relations and events are interconnected and everyone is playing a role specifically assigned in helping God’s plan unfold as it is.

Spiritual Gymnastics: no leotards required

Intimately connected with the Rock of Ancient of Days power to manifest its evolutionary intention in this ongoing progress of digesting life requires intense workout in the spiritual gym

With equipment like, confidence, courage, perseverance, patience, endurance, least resistance, and the overall daily frays as the gymnasium, my quiet desperation and I’m-pumped excitement always get a fine-tuning workout.

Brief Debrief

Outcomes seem an ongoing activity of incoming cues from intuition and information to assist with the business of living. Continuous beginnings that come with an end and beginnings with no end merge with ending of visible and invisible. Just like seasons appear as if out of nowhere in no time at some point of natures’ cycle, so to endings are also beginnings. An immaculate exponent of how to dissolve the sting of seriousness in the world with an end and the world with no end

State of awareness present multidimensional perception according to Kairos -defined time
States of the mind define personal interpretation of perspective, according to its version of reality and in respect of its unique ability to understanding the universe.

Life presents possibility of probability to satisfy esoteric formula of absolute certainty and potential uncertainty all-powerful, all knowing, all present and all-right.

June 02, 2008
Spiritual Gymnastics: no leotards required

Intimately connected with the Rock of Ancient of Days power to manifest its evolutionary intention in this ongoing progress of digesting life requires intense workout in the spiritual gym

With equipment like, confidence, courage, perseverance, patience, endurance, least resistance, and the overall daily frays as the gymnasium, my quiet desperation and I’m-pumped excitement always get a fine-tuning workout.