one woman's journey to wholeness…

Posts tagged ‘christ’

Incoming Thoughts On Becoming Whole…

river at twilight

river at twilight

 

right-doing flows from right-being

sunset

sunset

 

let go…be still…surrender

and thus be made ready for Divine Service

at the appointed time

sacred space

sacred space

 

illumination does not come while shopping or bar-b-que-ing

it steals upon one slowly

in the Silence

when one is alone in the dark stillness

of Being

sunset

sunset

 

what is most difficult in this process of becoming whole

is the necessity of surrender

of submitting one’s ego-directed will

to Something that can only be felt…or sensed…

never known in the three-dimensional modes of

touch…sight…hearing...taste or smell

one is, nonetheless, acutely aware of

It…

some  indwelling Thing

that is more true…

more real…

than any thing in the

manifest world

 

“Altared” States Five…

“altared” states…

As I sit here daily

“altared” at my altar

I am discovering that there is, indeed, Something here in my heart

that responds to me intelligently and oh, so lovingly

as I push valiantly along this path of no signs.

I have  HELPERS  as real as you and I…

whose words of wisdom and truth

keep me faith-filled and grounded:

God is in charge.

The only sane choice ever…in all matters…is to wait for God to act first.

Keep your focus off of that which you desire.

Turn your attention ever-inward to the Christ Indwelling…

to that “Place” within from which True Life and all Being unfolds.

Remember–you are only a vessel…an instrument…

the vehicle and not the driver…the clay and not the sculptor.

 In this endlessly unfolding human drama…

you are neither playwright nor director…

you are merely an actor…and a bit part player, at that. 

 When you can be perfectly at peace with these Truths of your being…

when you are able to “chop wood and haul water” with joy and gratitude

for being so privileged as to be so used by the Creator

then and only then will you experience peace beyond understanding and

yeah, that kind of rich” abundance.

Remove your attention from the world of form and

keep it glued to the Power which underlies

all that you see.

I  thank you, my Inner TeachersAspects of my Greater Self.

I pledge to You the same faithfulness and constancy that you show me

day by day, step by step as I move prayerfully and cautiously through this  life.

And although I cannot see, touch or hear you with my physical senses

I know that You are indeed, with me always

in all ways.

I know beyond a shadow of doubt

that as I continue seeking the “kingdom” within…

all else shall be added unto me.

Ashe.

Reflections On A Rainy Day…

reflections…

I am here to serve by being

I am part of an ongoing, ever-unfolding and expanding Creation

The more I quiet the intensity

of my human desires…

the more my will becomes one with the

Will of God

I owe God the proper upkeep of this body

and in order to do so

I must avail myself of every human means

until the body falls under the complete control of the Godhead

via

the indwelling Christ

at which time

the body is re-formed, re-newed and maintained

without interruption

I am here to serve as a

Woman-of-God...

The Battles Belong to God…

These earthly battles, indeed, belong to to God: that Holy Presence that has taken up residence in my third and fourth CHAKRAS

that Intelligence with which I communicate in these sacred moments

that mysterious Force that draws me here to this holy spot

above my beloved river

today swollen and

windblown

my river…

Mother God waging Battle

for the survival of Her children:

all the two and four-legged creatures

all those who crawl or grow

along the Body of Her

Sister:

Gaia

Rolling waters

hurried along by the wind…

not wise to tarry in danger

and there is much danger

all around…

it comes by air

by water

by sight and sound…

visions of madness upon the land…

humanity gone berserk

lost in the lunacy of

their own imaginings…

killer cruelty ruling the earth…

a million lives taken…

a noble mountain leveled…

all the same…

I watch from my perch

high above the rapidly rolling

river

listening to words of

Truth

that flow from That Which Has Taken Up Residence in my

heart and solar plexus…

and then I know…

all is just as it must be…

and so, I kick back

and I am at peace once more…

in Love

at-one with my world…

I can leave the battles to God…

“Altared” States Four…

light-bearers…

thank you

o’ bearers of Light

“bringers of the dawn…”

thank you for this day

this time of inner peace and self-knowledge

thank you for this moment of expanded understanding of the

who...

what

and why

of my being

grandfather…

thank you, grandfather

for the energy streaming forth from you

upon whose waves I ride back

in Time

to another place

the plains of Kenya

a forest full of ebony trees…

an ancient carver…

his countenance the color of the wood

he so lovingly carves…

so carefully sculpts…

into his own image:

universal God-man

descended from the stars…

originator of the species

planter of the seeds from which we

sprout…

speak o’ ancient one

as I listen…

speak to my heart

and to my mind…

infuse me with

your wisdom..

your knowledge

use me as a

transmitter of your

power…

help me to accept that

coniunctio…

I am loved...

I am love

On Becoming a Wise-Woman…

a view from my window altar…

Just sitting here at my window altar drinking in the beauty of this late summer afternoon. Thinking about what these times of personal adversity are teaching me. I am becoming a Wise-Woman…am being tempered by life.

Am learning that a Wise-Woman accepts what is and goes within for shelter…guidance…security…fulfillment. In the midst of pain and adversity, she remembers who she is and Whom she has come to serve.

She recognizes her dark nights of the soul and accepts them with peace and tranquility in her heart…knowing that this too has come to pass

contemplation…

A Wise-Woman depends upon her faith to see her through…regardless of how small and meager that faith may be.

She understands that solutions are not to be found in the madness of the external world but in the silence of her heart…

She knows that regardless of how difficult circumstances become, she must remain cheerful and upbeat…”laughing in the Devil‘s face.”

evening falls…

A Wise-Woman remembers that Her Holy Husband Which Art In Heaven…the Other Side of Who She Is …is more powerful than any danger in the  apparent world.

She knows that if she allows her spirit to be broken by life…she will surely die. And so adversity may bend her but she never breaks.

Through it all, the Wise-Woman maintains that inner Light…that tiny, mustard seed of faith…knowing that she shall rise again–reborn…renewed…reformed from the ashes of her dead self…and outmoded ways of being in the world

In times of adversity a Wise-Woman shuts her mouth and clings to her God

Autumn…Season of Death

river at autumn

 

river at autumn II

 

Autumn…Season of Death

I sit here gazing out at my river…allowing my mind to drift along with its flow. I am reminded by the changing colors of the trees that summer has, indeed, passed; and like the trees on the far shore of the river, I, too, am undergoing a season of change…a season of death.

Unlike years prior, I am experiencing this season of death not with sadness and gloom but with a quiet joy in my heart because now, in this season of my maturity, I am experiencing death and rebirth simultaneously.

Who? What is dying? And how can I rejoice over the death of any part of self?

She who would hold me back on this journey of at-one-ment is gone. The fear-driven, doubting, ego-personality-self; the one who trusted nothing—no one—but her own blind, limited, ignorant-of-the-truth-self has passed away…

She’s been burned to ash in the fires of initiation; and from those ashes, my new, Christ-infused-Soul now arises.

The Sacred Marriage has taken place; my soul has taken a bridegroom—the Bridegroom.

Yang and Yin have been joined together. The Holy Couple now rule this body, mind, soul…life.

I AM renewed, rebuilt, restored as the God Seed takes root and flowers into new being.

My life is now lived under the authority of the GodWoman within to whom responsibility has been transferred. Instead of attempting work out (in my tired, little brain) every matter that gives me pause, I have given Her full permission to be my response in every matter and aspect of my life.

When I am brutally honest with myself, I am forced to admit that I, the “i” that is communicating these thoughts, does not have a clue as to what this “third dimension” of Reality and the myriad forms contained within it should look like. Therefore, I have returned responsibility for this life—individual and collective—to its rightful “Owner—that which is responsible for the creation and maintenance of the entire universe and all of its contents—including us confused humans.

My life is becoming a celebration of the demise of ruler-ship of the flesh and the triumphant restoration of the ruler-ship of what we humans perceive as the Divinity underlying all creation.

Harlem: A Reflection of Life’s Cycles

reflections...

 

A Harlem: A Reflection of Life’s Cycles

Today, the spotlight of my gaze shifts from the past to here-now.

Yesterday a good friend of mine and I drifted through Harlem. We flowed with the current of this Memorial Day Sunday, allowing it to carry us along as we relaxed into Life and re-connected with the Village of Harlem.

I loved the quaintness of the French Bistro on 7th, and the TAKE THIS CRAP FOR FREE yard “sale” outside that brownstone on 139th Street. I now have a cake of handmade soap, a work of art that adds to the uniqueness of my bathroom decor; and yet another book to add to the overflowing piles in every room of my apartment.

I love the fact that I am now inspired to clean the crap from my own closets and drawers and set up a TAKE THIS CRAP FOR FREE corner in the laundry room of my building. I am always seeking ways in which I may begin to live a life of more giving and less taking.

Harlem loves me and I love Harlem. I love drumming with the folks in Marcus Garvey Park on as many Saturdays as I get my Bertha butt out of the house and on the express bus to Manhattan.

I love the hustle and bustle—the unique Harlem energy—of 125th Street where I sometimes walk the strip from 8th Avenue to 3rd—just for the feel of it. (Sorry, I’m old school and can’t remember those new names for the Avenues I’ve known since childhood!)

I loved the crush of Sunday tourists at brunch up at Londell’s yesterday; the accents; the cacophony of so many foreign tongues; the strangeness of so many white faces.

Then…there were the closed for-business-businesses…the gated storefronts…block after block after block…

Melancholybittersweet is what I begin to feel as I battle to accept the changing face of Harlem.

Death and rebirth…decay and new life growing from that decay…like the cycles of my own life.

Like Harlem, I experience my own mini-deaths each day as the no-longer-useful parts of who I’ve been gradually die-off to make room for the birthing of La DiosaCrista.

And then one day—behold—a new face…a new form…a new life.

Just like Harlem.

 

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