My Dream - Peggy 2009

I approached the Creator and I told Her my dream, “I dreamed the world could be saved and I knew how to save it. I had to tell someone!

So I went to my Earth Friend and I told her of all the beauty and grace in the universe and how we humans bring that to each other. I showered her with images of you, Creator, and of your garden and I told her what is yours could also be hers.

     She looked at me sadly and said, 'I cannot hear you.'

Realizing that she could not interpret my words, I went to The Magistrate. And I told her that you, Creator, called to us through each other. I tried to explain that we must be silent and quiet in our hearts to hear your voice and to understand the ebb and flow of your grace.

     She said, 'Where did you learn these heresies?'

I confessed that I learned them from speaking with you.

     She said, 'I have never learned such things. What you say threatens us. You are a false prophet.'

Saddened at her response, I told my Spirit Friend of my concerns. Surely she would understand me. I explained that you, Creator, were speaking through all of us, through our friendships and our families, our relationships with the earth and with those like us across the globe. I told her that you informed us of these things in so many ways, but that sometimes we needed to affirm them among ourselves. I said that was what spirit friends did; they reflected the love and beauty of the Creator’s promise to each other and made light.

     She said, 'There is a time for that. And now is not that time. Now it is time to sleep.' And she turned out the lights and closed my bedroom door.

I did not want to sleep!

I lay in the dark night wondering if I misunderstood everything you have taught me. I wondered if perhaps your promises of love and grace and joy were promises to be kept only to myself. And yet, they were promises so lovely, so grand, so true and so life saving. And now they seemed so heavy, so burdensome, so alienating. The world was perishing, and your way was so simple and obvious. I had to try to tell them. But, alas, they could not hear me. They thought me a heretic and a fool. They left me in the dark to hold these insights all alone. In despair and self doubt, I closed my eyes and let my mind slip away so my heart could not feel the pain."

The Creator looked at me with gentle eyes and smiled. She drew me into her broad arms, and as I melted into her breast I could feel our hearts beating together in the very same rhythm. I lifted my eyes to hers and from our gaze emerged an ocean of tears that poured over us, cool and clear, settling around us in a peaceful tidepool. She breathed and we expanded together, her chest burgeoned, heaving above the waters like a breaching whale, then exhaled back to gentle calm. Misty breath surrounded me and drew me cell by cell into vapor. I knew this peace.

     Ever so calmly she assumed my discouragement into our eternal embrace and whispered assurance through me,
                                                           “I will talk to them.”

Looking for Your Face - Rumi

From the beginning of my life

I have been looking for your face

but today I have seen it

Today I have seen

the charm, the beauty,

the unfathomable grace

of the face

that I was looking for

Today I have found you

and those who laughed

and scorned me yesterday

are sorry that they were not looking

as I did

I am bewildered by the magnificence

of your beauty

and wish to see you

with a hundred eyes

My heart has burned with passion

and has searched forever

for this wondrous beauty

that I now behold

I am ashamed

to call this love human

and afraid of God

to call it divine

Your fragrant breath

like the morning breeze

has come to the stillness of the garden

You have breathed new life into me

I have become your sunshine

and also your shadow

My soul is screaming in ecstasy

Every fiber of my being

is in love with you

Your effulgence

has lit a fire in my heart

for me

the earth and sky

My arrow of love

has arrived at the target

I am in the house of mercy

and my heart

is a place of prayer

May your prayer expand to the farthest edges of the universe. May your heart be open to receive the mystery. And may the Beloved breathe the fragrance of Love into your soul. Peggy

Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī  was probably born on 30 September 1207 in the province of Balkh in the district of Wakhsh in Khorasan (now in modern Afghanistan/Tajikistan). He died on 17 December 1273 in Konya in Seljuqid Rum (now modern Turkey). Rumi’s meeting with the dervish Shams-e Tabrizi on 15 November 1244 completely changed his life. From an accomplished teacher and jurist, Rumi was transformed into an ascetic.

Shams had traveled throughout the Middle East searching and praying for someone who could "endure my company". A voice said to him, "What will you give in return?" Shams replied, "My head!" The voice then said, "The one you seek is Jalal ud-Din of Konya." On the night of 5 December 1248, as Rumi and Shams were talking, Shams was called to the back door. He went out, never to be seen again. It is rumored that Shams was murdered with the connivance of Rumi's son, 'Ala' ud-Din; if so, Shams indeed gave his head for the privilege of mystical friendship.

Rumi's love for, and his bereavement at the death of, Shams found their expression in an outpouring lyric poems. The general theme of Rumi's thought, like that of other mystic and Sufi poets of Persian literature, is essentially that of the concept of tawhīd – union with his beloved (the primal root) from which/whom he has been cut off and become aloof – and his longing and desire to restore it. Wikipedia 2.7.12

The Sea Lion ~ John Eldridge, From The Journey of Desire

Once upon a time here lived a sea lion who had lost the sea. He lived in a country known as the barren lands. High on a plateau, far from any coast, it was a place so dry and dusty that it could only be called a desert. A kind of course grass grew in patches here and there, and a few trees were scattered across the horizon. But mostly, it was dust. And sometimes the wind, which together made one very thirsty. Of course, it must seem strange to you that such a beautiful creature should wind up in a desert at all. He was, mind you, a sea lion. But things like this do happen.

How the sea lion came to the barren lands, no one could remember. It all seemed so very long ago, in fact, it appeared as though he had always been there. Not that he belonged in such an arid place. How could that be? He was, after all, a sea lion. But as you know, once you have lived so long in a certain spot, no matter how odd, you come to think of it as home.

There was a time, many years back, when the sea lion knew he was lost. In those days, he would stop every traveler he met to see if he might help him find his way back to the sea. But no one seemed to know the way.

On he searched, but never finding. After years without success, the sea lion took refuge beneath a solitary tree beside a very small water hole. The tree provided refuge from the burning rays of the sun., which was very fierce in that place. And the water hole, though small and muddy, was wet, in its own way. Here he settled down and got on as best he could. Had you journeyed in those days through the barren lands, you might have seen the sea lion for your self. Quite often in the evening, he would go and sit upon his favourite rock, a very large boulder, which lifted him off the burning sand and allowed him a view of the entire country.

There he would remain for hours into the night, silhouetted against the sky. And on the best of nights, when the wind shifted to the east, a faint smell of salt air would come to him on the breeze. Then he would close his eyes and imagine himself once more at the sea. When he lay himself down to sleep, he would dream of a vast, deep ocean. Twisting and turning, diving and twirling, he would swim and swim. When he woke, he thought he heard the sound of breakers.....

The sea was calling to him.

The sea lion loved his rock, and he even loved waiting night after night for the sea breezes that might come. Especially he loved the dreams those memories would stir. But as you well kn

ow, even the best of dreams cannot go on, and in the morning when the sea lion woke, he was still in the barren lands. Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to fall back asleep. It never seemed to work, for the sun was always very bright.

Eventually, it became too much for him to bear. he began to visit his rock only on occasion. "I have too much too do," he told himself. "I cannot waste my time just idling about." He really did not have so much to do. The truth of it was, waking so far from home was such a disappointment, he did not want to have those wonderful dreams anymore. The day finally came when he stopped going to his rock altogether, and he no longer lifted his nose to the wind when the sea breezes blew.

The sea lion was not entirely alone in those parts. for it was there he met the tortoise. Now this tortoise was an ancient creature, so weathered by his life in the barren lands that at first, the sea lion mistook him for a rock. He told the tortoise of his plight, hoping that this wise one might be able to help him. "Perhaps," the tortoise mused, "this is the sea." His eyes appeared to be shut against the bright sun, but he was watching the sea lion very closely. The sea lion swept his flippers once against his side, gliding to end of the water hole and back. "I don't know," he said. "it isn't very deep." "Isn't it?" "Somehow, I thought the sea would be broader , deeper. At least, I hoped so."

"You must learn to be happy here," the tortoise told him one day. "For it is unlikely you shall ever find this sea of yours." Deep in his old shriveled heart, the tortoise envied the sea lion and his sea. “But I belong the sea. We are made for each other."

"Perhaps. But you have been gone so long now, the sea has probably forgotten you."This thought had never occurred to the sea lion. But it was true, he had been gone for a long, long time. "If this is not my home, how can I ever feel at home here?" the sea lion asked. "You will, in time." The tortoise appeared to be squinting, his eyes a thin slit. "I have seen the sea, and it is no better than what you have found here." "You have seen the sea!" "yes. Come closer," whispered the tortoise, "and I will tel you a secret. I am not a tortoise. I am a sea turtle. But I left the sea of my own accord, many years ago, in search of better things. If you stay with me, I will tell you stories of my adventures."

The stories of the ancient tortoise were enchanting and soon cast their spell upon the sea lion. As weeks passed into months, his memory of the sea faded. "The desert," whispered the tortoise, "is all that is, or was, or will ever be." When the sun grew fierce and burned his skin, the sea lion would hide in the shade of the tree, listening to the tales woven by the tortoise. When the dry winds cracked his flippers and filled his eyes with dust, the sea lion would retreat to the water hole. And so the sea lion remained, living his days between water hole and tree.

The sea no longer filled his dreams.

I was that May that the winds began to blow. The sea lion had grown used to the wind, and at first he did mot pay much heed at all. Years of desert life had taught him to turn his back in the direction from which the wind came and cover his eyes with his flippers, so that the dust would not get in. Eventually the winds would always pass. But not this time. Day and night it came, howling across the barren lands. There was nothing to stop its fury, nothing to even slow it down. For forty days and forty nights the wind blew. And then, just as suddenly as it begun, it stopped. The sea lion lifted himself to have a look around. He could hardly believe his eyes.

Every single leaf had been stripped from his tree. The branches that had remained, with only a twig or two upon them, looked like an old scarecrow. And I do not need to tell you that there was no longer any shade in which to hide. But worse than this, much worse indeed, was what the sea lion saw next. The water hole was completely dry.

Three weeks after the wind ceased to blow, the sea lion had a dream. Now, as I told you before, there were nights in which he had dreamed of the sea. But those were long ago and nearly forgotten. Even still, the ocean that filled his dreams this night was so beautiful and clear, so vast and deep, it was as if he was seeing it for the very first time. The sunlight glittered on its surface, and as he dived, the waters all around him shone like an emerald. I he swam quite deep, it turned to jade, cool dark and mysterious. But he was never frightened, not at all. For I must tell you that in all his dreams of the sea, he had never before found himself in the company of other sea lions. This night there were many, round about him, diving and turning, spinning and twirling. They were playing.

Oh, how he hated to wake from that wonderful dream. The tears running down his face were the first wet thing he had felt in three weeks. But he did not pause even to wipe them away, he did not pause, in fact, for anything at all. He set his face to the east, and began to walk the best a sea lion can.

"Where are you going?" asked the tortoise.

"I am going to find the sea!"

~~~~
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
From the Four Quartets, by TS Elliott

Listen to your heart's longing. Get your head out of the way! You long for the True, The Real, the One Life that begets the universe. You know who you are. Your heart reminds you, not your head. Be still! And know that I Am. Be Still! Let the voice of your True speak truth to you - Namaste, Peggy

VISION by James H Cousins

When I from life's unrest had earned the grace
Of utter ease beside a quiet stream;
When all that was had mingled in a dream
To eyes awakened out of time and place;
Then in the cup of one great moment's space
Was crushed the living wine from things that seem;
I drank the joy of very Beauty's gleam,
And saw God's glory face to shining face.

Almost my brow was chastened to the ground,
But for an inner Voice that said: "Arise!
Wisdom is wisdom only to the wise:
Thou art thyself the Royal thou has crowned:
In Beauty thine own beauty thou hast found,
And thou hast looked on God with God's own eyes."

As a meditation, I have coupled this beautiful poem with a stunningly lovely song, written and performed by Patrick Leonard, Live To Tell. The [popularized] song's lyrics were written by Madonna and include the following phrase, which is convergent with the selected poem:

I know where beauty lives

I've seen it once, I know the warm she gives

The light that you could never see

It shines inside...

May the window of your third eye be opened to the divine beauty within you, that it may shine forth in glory, a reflection of the "joy of Beauty's gleam" in every face. Namaste, Peggy

James Cousins was born in Belfast, Ireland in 1873 (died 1956). He was largely self-educated. He later moved to Dublin where he became part of a literary circle which included William Butler Yeats, George William Russell and James Joyce. Cousins was significantly influenced by Russell's ability to reconcile mysticism with a pragmatic approach to social reforms. He had a life-long interest in the paranormal. Cousins produced several books of poetry and wrote widely on the subject of Theosophy. In 1915 travelled to India where he spent most of the rest of his life, eventaully converting to Hinduism. At the core of Cousins's engagement with Indian culture was a firm belief in the "shared sensibilities between Celtic and Oriental peoples". In India he became friendly with many key Indian personalities including poet Rabindranath Tagore, Indian classical dancer Rukmini Devi Arundale, painter Abdur Rahman Chughtai and Mahatma Gandhi. Wikipedia

Live To Tell was originally written by Patrick Leonard, who plays in this video, for the soundtrack of the film Fire With Fire. The song was shown to Madonna, who decided to use it for the film At Close Range. It was produced by Leonard (score) and Madonna (lyric) for her third studio album True Blue.

Cosmic Mother

Resplendent jewel and unclouded brightness
of the sunlight streaming through you,
know that the sun is a fountain leaping
from the father's heart,
his all-fashioning word.
He spoke and the primal matrix
teemed with things unnumbered -
but Eve unsettled them all.

To you the father spoke again
but this time
the word he uttered was a man
in your body.
Matrix of light! through you he breathed forth
all that is good,
as in the primal matrix he formed
all that has life. Scivias, Hildegard of Bingen

Nature takes shapes that repeat themselves at all levels of life. The orb, the wave, the elipse, and the spiral are found in plants and animals, in geographic and cosmic configuration, in quantum particles and animal cells.

Forms such as the seed, the leaf, the egg, are potent metaphors for life, as they relate to shapes we find in the human body. The womb itself, can take the shape of a branching tree; seed-bearing ovaries hanging ovoid from bilateral filopian branches. Or imagine the womb a germinating seed, as in the image of Mary above, a seed giving rise not simply to one life, but many, as she becomes the fruit-bearing tree.

The Sanskrit figure for the sound Ohm, can represent the shape of a bird in flight. Perhaps a dove. Spirit. Nature's patterns and forms give rise to a symbolic language that speaks to us of the unity of Life. We are held in a matrix of relationship, each level dependent upon the others to potentiate and sustain the sacred web.

From Hildegard, Prophet of the Cosmic Christ by Renate Craine: "According to Hildegard, the Mystery of God reveals one great pattern. All of creation, including the matter of the universe, emerged from God's Love (Caritas) and has Christ, the Wisdom of God, as it manifestation, goal and explanation. The entire universe is meant to reveal the interrelational, Trinitarian energy pattern of Love. Humans are meant to participate in this pattern of fecundity (viriditas), which is the work of the Son ['the work of the Word is fecundity']" Causae et Curae, 22, 15.

Hildegard's vision is fully articulated in the lovely words of this excerpt from Scivias, as she sings of the receptivity that makes Incarnation possible; praises for Mary, the matrix of the Good Man...and Eden, the matrix of "all that has life." And God saw that it was Good.

Artwork and original description: Joyti Art Ashram  http://jyotiartashram.blogspot.com/2011/06/elemental-symbol-of-life.html

The Inner History of a Day - John O'Donohue

No one knew the name of this day;

Born quietly from deepest night,

It hid its face in light,

Demanded nothing for itself,

Opened out to offer each of us

A field of brightness that traveled ahead,

Providing in time, ground to hold our footsteps

And the light of thought to show the way.

The mind of the day draws no attention;

It dwells within the silence with elegance

To create a space for all our words,

Drawing us to listen inward and outward.

We seldom notice how each day is a holy place

Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,

Transforming our broken fragments

Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.

Somewhere in us a dignity presides

That is more gracious than the smallness

That fuels us with fear and force,

A dignity that trusts the form a day takes.

So at the end of this day, we give thanks

For being betrothed to the unknown

And the secret work

Through which the mind of the day

And wisdom of the soul become one.

Jeremiah 29:11 (God assures the exiles.)

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  I will be found by you...”

May each day bring to you a revelation of divine light and love, hope and trust, wonder and reverence,

Peggy

Blessed Longing by Goethe

Tell no one else, only the wise
For the crowd will sneer at one
I wish to praise what is fully alive,
What longs to flame toward death.

When the calm enfolds the love-nights
That created you, where you have created
A feeling from the Unknown steals over you
While the tranquil candle burns.

You remain no longer caught
In the peneumbral gloom
You are stirred and new, you desire
To soar to higher creativity.

No distance makes you ambivalent.
You come on wings, enchanted
In such hunger for light, you
Become the butterfly burnt to nothing.

So long as you have not lived this:
To die is to become new,
You remain a gloomy guest
On the dark earth.

John O'Donohue, in his book, Anam Cara, offers this poem as an example of the "helplessness that sometimes accompanies love." He offers it as an example of the way passion causes us to surrender our "common sense, rationality and normal serious reserve;" to awaken to the creative energies, the desires and longing emmanating from the heart.

This awakening is the threshold of "salvation." To make the realization that you are part of something so vast and lovely, it transcends form and time is like falling in love. It IS falling in love...it is seeing "sameness," recognizing yourself in the other - realizing that you are One with the Other, falling into the universal mystery that is the Love of God! Love is the nature of this cosmic Spirit-relationship. Love is all there is. Love is who you are, where you came from, how you are to live, and that to which you will return.

Love is the truth and the life and the way.

You are "saved" because you realize the eternal nature of this One Love. You are fully awakened and fully attuned to the music of the universe - the creative flux and flow of the divine and its movement through you and around you and before and after you. And you have no choice but to surrender to it, because it is who you are. As a caterpillar dies to become a butterfly and a butterfly is drawn to the light, so do we transcend ourselves for, by, and in Love.

In love we reach outside of our selves, extend ourselves, open, vulnerable and real we willingly fly into the fires of (com)passion and truth. Our need for love draws us to our Lovingness. There may be pain, but it is sacred pain. And the real tragedy would be "to have cautiously avoided these depths and remained marooned on the shiny surfaces of the banal." (John O'Donohue)

May you live passionately in love - awaken, surrender, be vulnerable and open, true and free in the eternal embrace of sacred Love that is who you are in unity with all creation. Peggy