| 07/26/05 Wombed Feeling safe in the flow of this day, I begin to look out from the sides. What is far, all at once seems close. The nature of life can consume us and the decision is how. I feel today consumed by color and the red I sit in is warm, cuddly, and like the womb that it is. To be wombed by a day is to be mothered by the flow of the rhythm and the consciousness of belonging. I belong to this day, and the squash that blooms so vividly outside my window calls me into yellow. I feel like Geb sitting on the golden egg within the womb of Nut. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| 07/25/05 Garden Rules Space becoming my need, I walk through the garden early, with coffee in hand and a blueberry muffin. Heavenly blue morning glory begins her bloom, as she climbs the arbor over the little pond. In the pond a water hyacinth blooms for the first time and the trailing nasturtiums bloom a pale soft yellow. I think next year i will put them on the arbor with the heavenly blue, that is if the fairies want this too. Living with fairies and allowing the garden to rule is a wondrous way to be in the Garden plan. The day begins with a feeling of an unopened present and the anticipation of its wonderful contents. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| 07/24/05 Visionary Crisp morning, beautiful light threaded through the tent. I snuggle into the feeling of my life between awake and asleep. I feel the day in its earliest nestings, and I realize it is all I truly own. This moment, this day, this time-- I take my memory and come to a place of vision. I am a visionary, and together, Robert & I create a visionary world. We see through the feelings of structure that the world calls reality. We realize the patterns of potential that can change and affect this structure, and we create a structure that will change the limited structure of life and thought. If an angle can tilt a square, and an oval can encircle a pyramid, then we know a circle can hold a crescent. We change the angle of what seems stuck, till the tilt begins to rock it loose. In the visionary sight of pattern we are not limited by idea, because we see them only geometrically, and the limit is only in the angle, size, shape, and color. These are familiar, and the mind and body can grasp change more freely in this way. In school I almost failed in geometry, algebra, math of any kind, but as a visionary patternist, I can understand the quantum physics of the self inside of life, completely. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| 07/22/05 Wonder Threaded through is the light of this day and it neighbors all our hearts into community. I bend into these words and realize how often I have come to this table of words and found nourishment for my day. To write, for me, is to be alive in my mind, to allow the breath of my inner reality to enter. There is a quiet stillness in this day that I did not feel yesterday. There is a volume of done, held within the stroke of time, and the feeling of completion makes me now watch to see what emerges from the forest. It will be magical, because I feel it all around. There is a glimmer of new light slipping through the spaces between. What a wonder now begins. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| 07/21/05 Drawing Dreams The feeling of life comes through the nature of sleep, as the threads of dream weave into the morning posture. I stretch, I write, I draw the dream I do not quite remember. Drawing my dreams intuitively when I wake always surprises me, because the drawing always speaks and the depth of chords of memory are awakened, and an understanding comes. An understanding, beyond my mind of situations, that fills my body with ease and compassion. Drawing dreams is, for me, the fastest for my body to relate to the understanding of my dream life. Even if I can't write about them, I draw them. Somehow this resolves the distance between night and day. When I draw I can see what it is that I know that is within the dream memory, that is beyond scenarios and symbolic limitation. A language that sees clearly the divine within and marks the mind with clarity. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| 07/20/05 Fullness Sensing the very nature of growth, I awaken early. I can feel the stretch of nature, as she reaches across the seasons to become fullness. I sit and lean into the Green as it spreads through me. Time nurses me until the fullness seeps out of my fingers, my words, my memories. I close my hand around the measure of relief and fire the seed into bloom. Large yellow squash blooms, tall blue delphiniums, golden yarrow, flowing comfrey, spiked daisies, blood red bee balm, glorious Gloriosa, white tansy, yellow evening primrose, sweet grass, and tall tansy at the gateway, as guardians, vining blooming clematis, trailing nasturtiums, all pour into me, and I remember who rules the day. The Garden. I awaken the beat of climbing. Sunlight crosses over the climbing and the thrill of summer heat ignites the passion of color. The Garden speaks in all colors. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| 07/19/05 Time Out Forgiving the night for awakening me at 1 am, I begin to try to step into the pace of my day at 6:30, instead of 5:30. What is it that makes a routine? I don't seem to get one set for long. It is harder the last 2 weeks to do my yoga-- not from pain, but lack of being in pace. I am taking in deeply an unknown, and my body is recalculating for the ease of assimilation. In these times less is done, less is created, less is written, and I am plagued with why. The lost visits daily and I must review the importance of time. All deep mysteries take time, time out, time down, time to come back up, time to digest. The world has taught us so little about time that it is foreign to our schedules, boundaries, and achievements. Today I must have time to digest and I must feed myself time, even if it is spoon by spoon. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever become totally comfortable with the process of listening. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| 07/18/05 One Eye Open Trying to touch the center of my consciousness I remember last evening in the sand garden, with a fire in the chiminea. The smell of smoke, the crackle of the fire, and the grit of the sand, all made for an evening of childhood, felt once again. Life right now for me is more above water and I long for the depths. I crave the ecstasy of the written word that journeys into the unknown and the cradle of the boat that holds me. I feel my words more spread out, like wings than gathered into a dorsal fin. The language of the walls of the deep dive calls me , but I must float on top with one eye open for now. Raven wings assert themselves, the air becomes my sea and I rise. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
|
||||||||||||||||||||
