Stories about life, love, death, and what comes after.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the randomness, chaos, and utter unpredictability of life. We all have free will, of course. But alas, so does every other being we encounter. I may plan for a direct, sunshine-y, drama-free path, yet there all y’all are, out there in your bumper cars, driving all crazy and slamming into things.
"Many people I know and love are weeping and some are rejoicing. We *are* the yin-yang symbol being expressed in this human realm. And in each of us, elements of the other, and all of us making up the whole."
How we can see things that allegedly aren’t there, according to the Human Rule Set (lies, for the most part, trickery to allow us to forget who we are), is something I don’t understand. But that I have seen things and experienced things deemed impossible is enough.
In my pre-meditation reading (30 minutes for my SAD lamp to work its magic), I’ve been slowly rereading Roland Merullo’s “Lunch with Buddha.” I’ve been reading it for this passage, which comes at the end. (ALL of the Buddha books are fantastic. If you can’t stomach books on spirituality, these are novels, beautifully written, chock … Continue reading no regrets
I heard the last beat of her heart, my little dog. She was here, here, here. And then not. It seems impossible, the finality of that. And then she came back to me…
The ancient mystics knew the truth about death: crushing grief can lead us to healing, to alignment with what our souls already know. And then “we wake up laughing…”
Eight years ago I prayed to get out of this living hell so I could be with Mike again. Today, in the same Mike-free world, I'm prone to ending texts and emails with "I love this life!" We are here, our loved ones are Here, and it's all the same. There is nothing to fear. The heartbeat of Love is eternal.
This is not mine but it is so delicious that I'm posting it on this extravagantly beautiful spring morning. This is from Danielle LaPorte, a spiritual teacher and author I don't recall ever hearing of. Yet this January 5 post rose into my Facebook newsfeed from out of nowhere. Gifts. They're everywhere. And this reminder … Continue reading you. me. some. one. now.
“Instead of shooting through the front windshield to crush my skull against that house-sized hunk of metal, I crawled out of that car with only a burn on my neck from the seatbelt. I remember leaving Frank's Little Hut in Montrose as I'd done a dozen unbelted nights before. I remember pulling that seatbelt around me; doing it and wondering why at the same time. Guided. Always.”
Suddenly, the room hushed and there was a weird change in the atmosphere. The clatter of cutlery on plates, the voices of those near me, the traffic passing by on Cherry Street, all of those sounds became muffled and there was a feeling of density in the air. At the same time the sound changed, everyone around me lost the vividness of their human suits and I could see with perfect clarity that there is nothing between us.
An Unexpected Mystic 