| 5/03/05 Garden Plan Filling space as I have never done before, I open to the unknown of this day. Seeding the garden yesterday I plan to seed more basil, hollyhock, stock, and calendulas. I open my heart to the garden and many feelings stir. I begin to move within the Garden Plan once again, Pisces Moon. The playful skips inside and the greening has begun her work. I awaken my garden hands and they remember many things, and especially favorite is the feel of the dirt as it cradles in my palm. Yes, dirty nails and the smell of the dirt will accompany me today and I will nurse myself with the Garden Plan. I have come too far not to drink and still live. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 5/02/05 Greening Sun comes over me and I sit in the wonder of its gesture. It gives so much to the heart of me and I watch it raise the sap of my life. I look through the still bare trees and I watch the waiting. The slow becoming, the patient expressing the cyclic tolerance that nature is given me a clue to this day, and the humbling reaches into me. I bend my own limbs deep into the earth and I listen to the root children. There is much below that soon will begin to rise, and I must be ready for the greening to express green upon me. When it comes it seems slow, but then in a flash it is all there like snow. The white of snow comes silently and quickly like the greening of spring. There is much above ground preparation for snow, like there is much underground preparation for spring. Ready is a patient alertness, that has become a silent immovable feast for me, that embodies much willingness to receive. I open myself to this day and I purse myself for its gifts. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 5/01/05 Deeply Inside Writing from a picture of my inner life and the real course it takes, as the pattern of reality takes a voice deeper than the daily activities of what appears to be living. The sacred rhythm of a life looking for the strength to follow an inner will that lights the way. An understanding that comes from the acceptance of courage. I have read many ways of seeing, but I prefer the integrity of being inside of it. Place and companion being the inward portrait of what I have come to believe as essential. To know where one's own place is, is to be able to ground the sacred into a resonance, and the companion becomes the inner voice. The place of sacred has invested in me and I have found the new sense of rhythm comes out of this. I have volumed this into my will and this time evolves my life in a way I have sought and now receive. (c) Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/30/05 Cautious Silence protects me, back in our loft room at last. Wild geese overhead wake me, and I love the thinness of these walls. I take into my counsel the morning mood. Strong, steady, but cautious. Feeling the new rhythm and pace in my life takes care, because the old rhythm tries to pick up the pace and I'll easily fall into it without noticing it at first, but later I will know, because of the stress and strain it is. I sit quietly and wait to hear its beat, I look for the ease, and what it is that I truly need, and that is where it is. It sounds easy, but somehow it is not yet. There is much more allowing in this need, much more coming to than going for, more trust than doing, more sight than the eyes can give. I close my self around this rhythm and I know this is the true identity of this day. I begin. (c) 2004 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/29/05 A Seed Morning comes early and I stretch into the character of this day. Each day has a character, an identity that washes through me. I open to the time I am now given for a new capacity. Life completes itself in each second and I only see part of it. I begin to realize that the wind knows my name as it blows through the early grey light of the morning. Light moving through the bare trees as their skeletons begin to draw up the greening. I look into the first light of this morning and I feel the presence of a quiet repose. I sink into this presence to write, and I wonder how many times I can look into this window and find nurturance. I write each morning to feel a kernel, a seed of each day that I can grasp into my hand. I close my fingers around it, so in the dark heat of my holding it will germinate into a deeper understanding of the identity of each day. This understanding nurtures me and gives me patience with the unknown character of what I enter. I flow with the nurturance and I become more willingly transformed. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/28/05 She May Be Life becomes me and I enter into myself with a thread of memory that conceals no pattern of legacy. I open to the regard I need for the acceptance of clarity. Patterns emerge and the deep penetration of thought begins to express within me. I consume my own presence, which is not always provided for by the logic of my time. I unwind the knots in the thread and begin to see what folds me. I am woman. I am what conceives, enters, consumes, and is consumed till the flesh of creation is birthed from my feeling of its presence. I am not a mind which analyzes, diagnoses, calculates, philosophizes, teaches from the distance of outside. I have no need to conqueror, own, or make war, on the ideas of what only knows by observing. I enter the selfish thought of creation and welcome the seeded strand of thread that has sown the life within me to a thin veil of conception that is felt real. I am my Self as she Is. I own her as She may Be. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/26/05 Rolling Out Bright morning, I feel I have travelled thousands of miles since I went to sleep. I have returned from somewhere that lingers. I look through my window and I remember to listen. Life folds through many layers before it finds a place to roll out its true identity. We guess at who we are, but I feel mostly we are surprised when it is reveled. The pictures within my frame unfold many answers that give presence to my life, but the unrolling has just begun. Each day the surface becomes more smooth, so the unrolling can begin. The pattern becomes more clear and the movement within more forward. I read fairy tales and realize more why they filled and nurtured my youth. Patterns of life they deeply cut into and the courage it takes to reveal the truth held within all the great mysteries. Once the true identity is revealed, the truth becomes clear. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/25/05 Ready Moving slowly, foggy morning, Spring rising through the mist. The day opens me like a crocus and I begin to realize more deeply the newness of this time. I become aware of how I must honor it, I let go of my need to worry. I follow the map laid before and trust I am ready. I am ready is a hard concept for me to fully feel, because I am so used to getting ready and all the emotion and energy that goes with that. When one is ready there is no more planning to be done, no more trying to see, there is just ready. The ancient mariner within me has finally spoken and the maps are made. I stop, I hear, I follow. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/23/05 Ancient Mariner Morning rises within me. Cloudy morning, I open the window of my interior view and there is much sunshine. The day sits within the movement of water and I feel its stillness of anticipation. The rules of life fall away from me more each day. I explain less. When the center begins to spiral in the same direction as the outer layers, there is a navigational ease that moves through the wind of one's words. The maps within your cellular base unfold like charts of an ancient mariner. You become less risked and more charted. You worry less because you realize your way is more mapped. You are an ancient mariner that has long ago laid out your Journey's End and the Wind Knows Your Name. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/22/05 Dance of Flow Close to a full moon-- woke up with the night sky lit in a most magical way. House colder, as the weather shifts from cold to warm warm to cold. The flow is what is on my mind and how to remember how to listen between my thoughts. There, in the between, is the flow and the ease of what is already laid before me. A new rhythm, impossible to guess, so I must be light on my feet and dance with the lead that has entered my life. Patience is the key, but this is one that i don't always turn well. The deeper I flow into this time though, the more I see what grace has been set into the pattern before me. I am learning to step more freely with less hesitation, doubt, and more stride. Awareness awakens me and the little girl in me is amazed at the power of a future waited for. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/21/05 No Place Like Home Held within the interior resonance is the very specific need to be able to relate to the volume of sacred. I awaken early, 5 AM, my favorite time of day, and I sit into the comfort of listening. Listening changes from time to time, day to day, cycle to cycle, and I am learning to navigate these shifts. This learning has a strong curve, and the longer I listen the more I know I have heard. To hear and be consoled by its truth is not always an easy task, but to persevere is what makes it possible to hear again, and the distance that one achieves begins to form a pattern of strength one can be consoled within. You begin to know your own sound of truth and though at times you dabble in the lie, you return faster and faster to the truth. I am sitting on the edge of my curve and I look out over the vast domain of the fibers of my listening. No one can listen for you, but many can believe in your ability to hear, and this day I am grateful for the many who have believed in me. Love, Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/20/05 New Course Folding the space of dreams, I rise early and listen to the quiet of life, as it begins to awaken. Morning dove, chickadees, robins, lift the day into their sound and what a sweet collaboration they have with morning. My life is in a new cycle, but the tending to respond in an old way still lays between the lines. How odd it is when one tries to respond to a new pattern in an old way. It won't fit, it won't flow, it does not any longer make sense. I have had to sit back and watch myself in order to see it clearly. I stop, I relax, I listen, I change. A new course needed. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/19/05 Willendorf Taking up space in a way that emulates water, I concede to the flow of the eternal pattern. I remember how this flow feeds me and I recognize I have become the Willendorf Goddess, a form I dreaded, but now a form I embrace, as my nurturer and my grail cup. I have learned to hold the eternal pattern in my frame, and she who loves deep into the earth from ancient times, gives me a grace with myself I need. She has rooted me into the earth, as the spiral I have become, in order to hold the creative patterns that emerge as cut across the sphere of eternity. I look into her eyes and upon her frame of nurturance and am no longer afraid of her immovable endurance. I enter the pattern of this day immobilized no longer by judgment with blinded eyes. I am surrounded by her nurturance of my frame. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/18/05 Companion Walking through the spirals of what gives life to my dreams, I take in the turn of key, as it happens to the presence of my mind. There is a steadiness that accompanies me more now. A companion of knowing that has seen what a full pattern is and how it journeys through itself like a map. I sit in the boat of its thought and have learned how to get a seat and make ready my heart for the travel. I turn the pages of my life more willingly now, and the chapters are titled. There is an embrace I now seek, and beneath the current of this day I feel its passion. An embrace of acceptance, as I learn how to give fully to the sound within, that knows what is needed and what is no longer part of the pattern of who I now am. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/17/05 Sacred Spiral Inside a day is a pyramid of thought and the full integrity of what is given. I bend into this thought and look through the all seeing eye. I pose no longer in the middle of things and begin. I begin to notice the edge of things, the corners of round, the center of mutual. I expect a curve, a bend, a flow, a turn. I move my body round and the ball of energy I form is completing a sacred spiral in my life. To be able to enter a new cycle of one's life one must complete the sacred spiral and round the answer into the new cycle. I move slowly, strongly, and with care. To care for one's movement one must love the delicate weave between. This delicacy fills me and I sit awake into this day. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/15/05 The Cared For Self Up early, the sky within me starting to rise in color. I take hope and make her my earthen floor, so that much now can begin to grow. Caring for the self is a tedious task, which there is really little training for. The world taps its foot in impatience, from a past of self caring seen as a continually questioned and argumented need. The eternal truth being that without the cared for self, the world is out of balance, impotent, and unreasonable. I take time with this day to write and look through the webs in the corners of my waiting, to notice the patterns that spin in the presence of this morning. Patterns of such beauty, that only the eternal self could weave. I have made more room for her within, and she now has room for a loom, a wheel, and a shuttle, and the storage of many brilliantly colored threads and yarns. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/14/05 Indexed Insight being a way of seeing clearly, I become indexed for a larger view of the small in my life. I wait in the passage of mystery and expect myself to arrive, and I will. I come to the clever willingness of one who knows it is better to listen than direct. A huge book unfolds before me and all the parts pop up to create dimensions. I walk through the images, because I have become small, and my mind begins to allow the character of what comes to be before me. I am ripening and the fruit of this time is somehow within me. It is rich and my age dissolves like mutable material of Plato's theory, and the eternal begins to show her pattern. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/3/05 Rhythm Rain, pours through our world and the snow yields to the new spring warmth. The frozen melts, our hearts rise, and I sit inside this moment. I have for so long watched for a morning rhythm that would embrace the full integrity of my needs. Rhythm is not something one figures out, but something that you just step into and become. It starts beating-- under things, it swells under the floor of one's life, and forces the pattern to change. When rhythm takes over you are carried on the beat of ease. The rhythm came and I hardly knew that it had arrived, because it was so natural, so part of me. This rhythm heats my frame, consoles my heart, feeds my soul, strengthens my character, and opens my window. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 4/2/05 Invisible Weave Resting inside the beginning, I wait, I hear, I risk the finding. I feel the forward and I lean. I put my face into the way. I face into the sound of the power of this time. Under this day is a rumble that rolls through my skin. It begins to open me in whole new ways. These ways are stronger than I have ever been before, but in many ways more unknown. I feel more solid, but with an intuitive palette that creates an invisible cloth that I can't as yet see, as I weave. My loom looks empty, yet it is fully tapestried. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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4/1/05 Yields to Change Renewal, the cycle of emergence once again watched over. I return to the source of my own nurturance, to write within the morning's early return to deliver the upward stream of light to my voice. I begin, and once again I remember the sacred resonance of hearing within the cause of will, that folds around a day and listens to the inward spiral, of evidence that there is a soul's property. I rest my frame as it yields to change. Moved into studio outside our home, for the first time in 20 years. A new rhythm, pattern, a new way of being. A new community of creativity. To share, to create in a space that is full of many new angles of creating; playing, feeling, expressing, and opening. I breathe in its colors and allow myself to be a little shy. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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3/30/05 The Greening Up inside the sacred well of my life that spirals through me. Winter begins to close her spiral of expansion, as the inward begins to now rise into the will of the world. Spring reaches into me, as she fingers my expression with the greening. The rains come and wash through me, through the garden, through the snow. The garden becoming more water than ground sits and waits patiently, as Gaia prepares her for new growth. The expansion underground, fully nurtured by winter, now rises to the surface of Spring. I allow what has expanded underground within me to now begin to rise and curl about my feet. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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3/29/05 Parallel Thought I open to my own sense of time, and I enfold the weaving space of acceptance. I include myself in the expression of experience, and the tactile feeling it gives to life. I can't cure the rip of fabric that has occurred in the fibers of listening, that makes it so hard for mankind to hear its own original thought, but I can weave a pattern that creates a hearing of the ecstasy held within the tear of sound, that threads it into the reason why. Why becoming the original source of experience, and the fibered resonance of expression. -- Parallel Thought. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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3/28/05 Door of Profound Will "As each woman seeks her own destiny, her will is what provides the stamina to endure and mold the sculpture of who she is, and what she hears as her own voice within. Once this happens a quantum leap emerges, and she finds her own words speak wisdom, and her heart speaks compassion. The seed of her passion grows into the joy of her depths, and her way becomes clear. Thus her Profound Will emerges." I wrote this 7 years ago, when Robert & I were creating the six doors of Sacred Space. This door seems today, more profound for me than ever before, and my understanding of it is even greater than all the other times I have entered it. I look about myself and I see many things, and they are new to me. What has been familiar is changing, but emergence does truly happen if one is willing to wait and allow the mystery some room. I am not always patient at this, but I also know the pacing is too, often part of the rhythm. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/27/05 Desire Lift opens my heart as the light of this beautiful day reaches into my face. The day opens the earth to change and the first rootings begin to emerge in Maine. Clarity comes into my senses more and I touch into the sphere of true identity. True identity being a critical factor in the way I realize. Realization coming through the many colors of our true identity. This is what for me begins to emerge as the true identity of this day as it volumes into my consciousness. The source of energy being of no religion, no myth, no culture. What emerges is more penetrated than we ever imagine within the silence of desire. Desire to rise, to become, to penetrate what is and what is not at the same time. To yield to the surface of desire is to emerge from the longing of potentiality. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/25/05 Mystical Force Feeling the space of Open more clearly, I begin to learn. I learn what it is to be understood from inside out. I move into the motion of morning and allow myself to see deeply the colors of this day. I open to the throat of the feeling, and pass through the body of memory. Because I am not fully awake, I remember the floating. I pour my heart into the cup of realization, hope rises within me, and the day begins the reel into a spin that awakens me fully. I feel empty, void, and I hear, "What is the mirrored abstraction of what you need, for the tempered resonance of a filled Grail Cup? You have come so far, and now you must nurse yourself or wither away--- you have come too far not to drink and still live." I wrote this three years ago in Mystical Force, and now it lives to fill me today. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/24/05 Whale Writer Deep in the pitch of my dreams, I awake slowly, more slowly than usual. Dreams of whales, writing inside whales, reading their walls, entering the sea through the mirrored blue Indian ceremonial square above our heads. Sperm whales that go to the bottom and then surface. Sperm symbols on my face. This day unfolds. Tired of conversations with people who say they do not understand what I write. Maybe this is a good place for them to be. There are so many things I don't understand, and I have learned to sit with that and reach. One thing I do understand, and can trust its truth, is what I write. I love walking with the language, the pulse of its beat, the flesh of its embodiment. I write outside the lines, just under the breath, something more wild than the language we know, a language that periscopes me outside the curve of daily thought. This day begins to open for me and I let it enter. (c) 2004 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/23/05 Communion Up inside the many thoughts a morning gives. I catch the thread of this day till it begins to unravel for me. Blue and yellow, red, all flow through my fingers. Dreams of buttercup yellow leaves, flying through the woods on a cycle, fording a river, all come back to me and I remember all these colors. The place where a dream and a day meet, is for me, in this morning writing. The window that opens is where they meet, and I look into what this communion creates. Days are so important, each one creates the layers of our lives. When I write, I feel I make this moment stand still instead of just gathering into the next. The immensity of the feeling of potential is in this moment and I am amazed at the granted space. So much more is available than we can ever dream. I allow the day to enter me, rather than I enter it. The potential of the gift is illuminating, and or a brief moment I see my life outside of itself, and then the inside is clear. What is meant within a day is much bigger than what seems to happening in it. I open my back and breathe in. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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3/22/05 Taproot Nature comes and she washes through us. I can feel the sprout of new life beginning to emerge from the seed. It has taken a hard winter to striate the seed, so it will crack open. This is the way it is with some hardy life. I feel I was scattered by the wind in the fall, and buried deep in the winter, and the cold has filled my shell till it has cracked, and I am beginning to emerge like a hardy delphinium. If so, I'll reach with a deep taproot and thrive in Maine, within the Garden Plan. I'll grow tall with my family of delphiniums, and accept blue in all shades. Like whales, we'll carry the sound of the sea. We'll be the whale within the Garden Wall, that will grow tall enough to see over to the ocean. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/21/05 Willingness to Dive Keeping the forces of the unknown within my grasp, I awaken at 3 a.m. I love this hour, it is so silent, so open, so inside. I light a candle and sit in my small, under the stairs, 'whale room'. It is where I dive the deepest. I listen, I feel, I look at all the sacred in my life; symbols, stones, pictures, words. I then return to my red wagon desk and begin to write. I love the tender words of my inner world, which take me through myself always in new ways. This world is what satisfies the explorer, adventurer within me. When I was a young woman, I wanted to be a pioneer and move to places unsettled, wild, and challenging, and I have done this, just not in the way I thought. My life has had a rhythm of the mystery inside and outside that I have become to love. There is a vast wonderment in the mysteries of listening to the unknown. This unknown lays groundwork for the practical, mundane, and structured of my life, so that I never get so caught in it, that I cannot feel flight, freedom, joy. I keep my hands dirty with digging, a spade in my pocket and a trowel in my hand. I dig till my nails are full of dirt, and the smell of earth reaches my nostrils, and I know I have pitched myself into my own resonance. "Placing time into the Sacred motion of one's own resonance, the willingness to dive becomes more easily made free." ~from The Morrigan by Raven Su.Sane (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/20/05 Spring Equinox Spring Equinox, and it is all in the morning air. I feel a shift and my whole body feels stronger. I dip my pen into this light and listen to Enya's Watermark. Snow still embellishes the earth but I feel the life below beginning to stir. Yesterday, made tiny sculptures of woodland creatures, and today I realize I had made an equinox nativity. The waiting; of new life to emerge, the egg to hatch, Life to become more present among us. I feel the new life stirring within my own creativity. I enter the silence of this morning, and see there is a strength building within me. Right under the fragility, a strength grows, and this morning I think somehow in the night I have cracked the shell. I am excited as I sit inside myself and feel the stirring Raven Woman. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/19/05 Oceanic Awareness Up early inside another day, creating space for the tempered quest. So little time is allowed in this world for transformation. So little time for change, shift, a new vision. Even the super-heroes must change within the space of a phone booth. Hearing the metal of my life is taking time and the tempered sword is being made, and I must follow the sound of my own truth to claim its edge. The tempered truth of one's life sooner or later must test its blade, and I am being fired for the cut. I have put a new bid in for property, and it is under a Cancer Moon. Water. I'll go down to the sea today and look into her face. I'll allow the consciousness to fill me. Oceanic Awareness of a vast vision in time. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/18/05 A Moment of Decision Inside the ocean of the creative expression is a moment of decision. This decision is made and life pours through the sieve of limitation. The larger parts of ourselves become sometimes lodged between the worlds, and we don't know how to dissolve into the new space. I feel this space is where I am at times lately, and I add water as a tonic, and I dissolve and become more fluid. Today I sit into the eyes of others I see, who are trying to dissolve like me. I add water, and together we move through the limitation, and the larger parts of myself become more creatively expressed. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/17/05 Unclipped Untrained Tiny bells jingle on my desk, but make no sound. They stir from the movement in the house as everyone moves around me, as I sit and write. I listen to Hildegard of Bingen and my window opens. Feeling that to write intuitively is like learning to feel the different rhythms of flowers and herbs, when I used to create designs for another love of my life. I used to raise acres of flowers and herbs and I placed all of them in the ground with my own writing hand. I was not trained then in gardening or design, as I am now not trained in art or writing. I love the feel of the plant, the texture of the leaf, the diverse colors of the blooms, 300- 400 different kinds, all chosen for color, texture, and fragrance. I wrote little then with words, I wrote with flowers, nature, and my passion for fragrance that oozed from their leaves. I walked among them every evening like my children, my family, my muse. Now I write with words as my flowers, and I squeeze them till they ooze their color and fragrance. I palette my life upon the page and give my flowers a voice that is as diverse as my gardens were. I mix my words in a wild and sensuous way, like the bouquets, wreaths, and hats that I had once become so famous for. My words are untrained and unclipped, like my wreaths, and I love their hidden ways. Just as no two wreaths were the same, but still a thread was true through all of them. This is the way I write. The world was once inspired by the time I put into my wreaths, maybe someday it will be inspired to give time to my words. We are all looking to be moved by the muse into something greater than we dream. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/16/05 Inside Out Inside the brightness I am inside, I sit. I follow this brightness even when I can't seem to see any other. To sit inside the spiral of life, and begin to feel the corners of things. I call the corner fairies to me, and ask them to help me find a more solid nature within me. The world seems to like what is outside in and I seem to write inside out. Is the Emperor really naked, or is he clothed in the most beautiful invisible threads of a new pattern, and this new pattern changes his mind, his life, his kingdom, and the world? (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/15/05 Day In My Hand Taking space into myself I awaken in me the thought that I can hold the day in my hand, and in this I can cradle myself within it. I rock within my palm and the light of this day caresses my face. I child myself and allow play to enter and swirl about my fingers. I forgive myself for hesitation and move deeper into the north star of my eye. I approach the distance, as if in the boat of my hand, and see the wide eye of a whole day, a whole life, a whole dream. I sink into my seat, within the cradle of this day, and become aware of its pulse. © 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/14/05 Bead I claim the sunshine of this day and take it into my heart. A night strung with the beads of integrity. Each bead an asking, each bead an answer. The solution being held within the commitment. The commitment being the integrity of a dream. The integrity, the clear palette. To dream a dream is a risk, to become a dream is a commitment. To know a dream is what it takes for it to have integrity. Today we write a brochure for Salon and give it the integrity it deserves, so that it will become clear to all, the frame it is woven from, and why. It is only now, in its three years, ready to take from the loom. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/13/05 Sunken Treasure Inside this day there is a river of motion flowing from the moment of sinking. As the world spins a picture I sink. I realize the picture spinning is not reality, but a distraction from the moment, and I sink into the moment. The moment has no face, no identity, just a feeling, but it is starting to become more real than the spinning, for the first time. There is more real information in the sinking than the spinning. I lay the fiber of myself upon my bed and I put it on. This fiber comes from what I have sunk into. It is an invisible thread, but has more illuminating fiber in it than a mind can conceive. This part of the journey has no idea, just feelings, and the feeling must compose the way the mind can rest into. Sunken treasure. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/12/05 I Sink Into I sink into the void, between what I know in my life and what I feel in my life, and that is where I begin. I sink into the between of things and understand what lives there for the first time. I sink into the moment before thought cuts it out. I write from that moment and there is clarity. I sink into what is before what is not, claims it. I begin to understand this moment between in my body, and it is a place of acceptance, purpose, and pattern. I follow the pattern and it spreads me open to myself. I surrender to my intuition that lives between and sees what is. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/11/05 Raven Thread Inside the night more steadily, vivid dreams, up with the light. Wonderful blue skies, what a dear and wonderful winter we have had. Snow marking our transition, as the world moves her pattern into a depth that will create an emergence, that is more sweet, like the heart. Snow is always a purification, and times herself with emergence. I look into the window of this day and find a threading that has evolved my character with a fine sharp needle. I pull together the cloth of my persona and wrap it around my frame. To some, persona is not real, but to me it is a fiber I have come to claim, and weave upon my frame with invisible thread that blends into a character my spirit will enter. I raven this thread and the bird within becomes my oracle. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/10/05 Language of Understanding Up in the middle of my life, making the middle fill me in on what there is left. I squeeze into a day all I can, and yet still I wonder why. I look through the window of a day, a moment, and the lost is still there. Ever since I was a child, the lost would be there in the let down of between things. I don't want to fill this in anymore. I want to fall into its presence and I want it to fall into me. The men of many moons, in the Black Box Theater, are the many days that are into a life, and then one day the presence enters, and it is the future self, that seems to know what the between is about. This future self has fallen into the middle, and the many moons of a life begin to know what the middle knows. I sit up in the night of a new moon in Pisces, and realize this small story is an opera of one small life that falls into itself, and all the mythic tales of the Night sky open to its reach. Up to write the language of understanding, and it becomes the flat rails I stand upon in the ark of my life. Symbology becomes more clear, as I share my creative world with you. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/9/05 Perspective Perspective, a window that keeps me open to change. Wind, snow, scrapers, all part of the sounds of winter in Maine, and mornings like this keep cozy my little girl inside. White on black, a way of making room for oneself. I rinse through my mind to find any remaining suds that weights it down. I feel a bit foggy and I know that it is because of a shift and I am looking for the new perspective that will give me some clarity. I 'll go out today and let the cold wind clear out my view. Perspective, a way of changing what seems to be real. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/8/05 Wide Awake Calling forth a smile, I awaken this day within me. Being awake is truly a scary, but brave thing to be. All my life I have wanted to be awake to the sensation of living, even the pain. I used to think I was odd or afraid, but now I see I was brave. I think I love the senses of life so dearly that I have rarely dulled them. To be alive to my life means to enter its full feeling, and I have come to a space that the feeling is more important than the distractive situations, causes, and chatter. I will draw back from what deadens, and will face full force into what is alive with color, beauty, passion, taste, fluid flow of what a body knows in the fire of its living. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/7/05 Up In the Dark Feeling in the void I travel through writing till I find myself and I take her hand. I remember that I am near a door and I ask to enter. I begin to feel my sides and notice what now is written on the walls. I feel the room about me and i call my name and the wind of my breath comforts me. Fired into release by years of hormonal shifts from maiden to mother to crone, I now sit in the night with more courage and less fear. I wait till I can prophecy to myself a vision that will give me enough pitch to pour my black into, I am like ink waiting for the pen to fill, so I can become poured into words that speak the language I have come to know. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/6/05 Future Self Up slowly, overcast morning, looking through my window to see the intention of this day, so I don't get caught in the blabber of what is not truly real. Neck cranky, deepening my stretch to alleviate my body from its night of Dream work. "Black" and "Walnut", characters in my dreaming and I gave "Black" "Walnut" for the transition of this time. I look into the power of Black on white in my life, because I am a writer and I see that the essence of walnut deepens my color, so I can develop enough pitch that I can write true to what I know as truth for myself. This truth is the essence of my intuitive life and why my future I allow my future self a voice in the present. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/5/05 Joy Whispering within the last remains of my dreams, I move through the covers up into this day. Bright white light shines into our room and toys surround us. We now sleep in the main family room, too cold in the loft. Our Babars rest with us, such Ganesh-like guardians of our child within. My dreams now vivid and colored, I write and draw them, for the ease of my day. I look into the window of this day and I feel joy rise in me, and am so amazed it still rises in me, even when some days it seems to pass me by, and I go deeply into the passage of my life to find it. Like Indiana Jones, I dig till it is given back to me. Like Demeter, I will not let my Persephone stay too long in the underworld, but I do know if I want the spring to come fresh and new, I must go into the underworld to find what fresh life has been taken from me and visit the mysteries of my Soul. Blue skies today and the completion of many things that I have long awaited. -- Joy. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 3/1/05 Cloture Cozied into many layers of dream, snow silently falling, my world embraced by the comfort of time. Looking into the meaning of dreams, I roll into a ball and out the door of possibility and imagine many sweet things. Up slowly and I look into a world of white and I am the black that lands upon it. I am the figure with the Raven hood wrapped around my head, knitted from the fibers of my life, unfolded with the colors of the light on my feathers. It is magical to weave ones totem into a cloture. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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