Zen Girl

Centering into the journey.

Archive for the category “Life”

It’s a hot day

we feel a void from the same empty pot.  
religion, money, success, they cook poorly in this pot.
what makes a meal– compassion, respect, true connection.  when the pot fills, we are fed. no void.

 

To fear and disrespect ourselves, nature, other life

to never seek out connection

to put our individualistic ideas before our fellow life and respect thereof

is like using a tear dropper to fill a pool that you’d really like to swim in. Efforts will

evaporate, and soon the sun will scorch our dry, empty souls.

A Drive

How do I describe this unfolding before my eyes..not with art, which doesn’t move; not with words, they are concrete, but this concrete that unfolds before us just outside the glass barrier surrounded by dark forest with branches over our heads, zoom past appearing illuminated by the lights, and we can only see just ahead, curves born out of the darkness, our minds lulled into the music filling us with its essence, we share the silence we give and the fear of returning home, so we keep driving, riding up the hill, back down, into town, and back again, riding our moods as they change with the tunes, up and down the hilly one way, up and down, we are this up and down. 

Amigo Road

It’s morning–clouds surround this house and cool mist dampens all.  The Big of our lives float in my mind.  What’s our connection to one another–what’s really going on here and where’s it all going to go?  How does the Now shape what’s to come?   Just tiny little seconds in an endless sea of time.  Before, the space to think alluded me. Thoughts barreled down and ran into each other, frustrated, with nowhere to go.  But now they soak in deeply, before releasing into the hills.

Days are spent outside creating and improving–nowhere to go and nowhere to be but right here with these dirty hands and feet.  My mind focuses, my body sings–the sun breaks through the fog midday and warms me with energy.  Tromps through the trails, I stretch myself with yoga on the wooden stairs, standing in stillness and quiet with these Redwoods, young giants.

And at night I receive the cold air with gratitude.  There is warmth from a hot meal fresh from the garden, and from our shared existence here on Amigo Road.

Bundled up, I float into sleep with the forests quiet song.

“You haven’t begun to think until you don’t know what to think.”

It seems to me that genuine thinking for oneself isn’t possible until every last bit of knowledge, every last thing we think we know, is gone.  We cannot have emptiness without first emptying, making room for the new.  To accept something as the Absolute just will not do, if one is committed to freedom. This freedom can be preceded by accepting nothing at all as the absolute truth or ultimate answer.  I’ve come to this:  I know absolutely nothing. Read more…

I forget myself sometimes

but I always get little reminders.  I am always here, I simply choose to forget.  I get lost in the game of where to go, who to pursue, what to do.  I get lost in the meaning of it all.  I get lost in the love and the hate. I get lost in the ‘getting to’.  I forget about the here, the journey.  My creativity falls away.  Sponteneous creation, authentic here-ness.  It feels too far away to grasp.  I am lost in the questions, the problems, the options, heavy loads of possible solutions to each equation.  Many forks in the road.  A heavy burden, my whole life.

 

But even during these times, I feel a lot.  So much.  From the soothing rhythm of a song.  The beauty of a magnificent flower in the middle of the bustling city.  The way the sky looks.  The sound of a birds wings. The escape into wilderness.  The beauty of a persons energy.  The massage of a stream of water. The complexity of an unspoken dynamic.  The endless connections of cause an effect, the infinite creation, and the nothingness, the emptiness that all things share.  I am forever changed.  And even when I forget myself, my ability to create,  like much of these past few months, I am always still here.  My self, the self I have become, who deep down embraces becoming, now has the gift of being reminded every day how beautiful life is.

I’m still here.

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