Original Face

Misty Mysteries

A lone tree in a field,

clinging to a mystery.

Jewels and Dewdrops

Dewdrops of quasi-spherical shapes look like jewels and diamonds. Only one who is Beautiful inside, recognizes Beauty in the World. If you spot it, you got it ...

Another one told me this story about this picture ...

"My aunt told a really cool story once. She was talking about how to raise young girls and the things they need to know.

When she was a girl, her uncle told her to think about dew on the leaves and how it sparkles in the morning sun. It’s so beautiful. She said ‘those are our diamonds and jewels’

Then her uncle, Jimmy, said that she is as precious as those sparkly jewels and she should remember that."

The Earth Child Dream

Saturday, November 05, 2005

This morning I awoke meditating at the edge of space ...

In the dream I am at my old high school, in the front yard. I am wearing pyjamas and an old comfortable robe. The sun has just set behind the school and I can see the Belt of Venus; the purplish glow around the horizon. I look up above the horizon and look up further. Then, in the twinkle of knowing, I begin to fly, going straight up and beyond. Faster then thought I race to the outer regions of the stratosphere. I look down and see the Earth recede to a blue organic ball. I am there in the grey glow of this transition region. I feel the Earth, Gaia, like a living being. I am a child, yet also a caretaker. I float in this region embracing the Earth with Love and Peace. I feel the Earthshine on my face …

where infinity meets destiny

Just beyond the horizon, where infinity meets destiny, I can see the Beauty in that very convergence. It is then, that the bliss permeates me, and all and everything is connected by Love.

Gods laughter in a flower...

As the mysteries of our own Hearts unfold, showing us how connected we are to all that is, that we are never 'alone', but always in His Heart, growing, becoming, being!

... and we are each, a miracle ... a song of Love, where sorrow and Joy, laughter and tears, are but each a note in it ...

Beauty echoes through all things, like Gods laughter in a flower... and a communion of the 'Eternal Present' exists, as if no past ever compelled, nor future beckoned.

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Photo taken at my Community Gardens, with Nikon 8400 ... feeling written yesterday.

Tens of Rains

A grey day weighs heavily, on this early morning, in North Vancouver. At least ten shades of grey clouds hover over Burrard inlet and Vancouver’s downtown core.

Dark monuments of man reach for the ever darkening clouds of nature. Like two opposing lines of inevitable force, waiting to clash. Jutting, hard.

Rain is building in those clouds, waiting to pound the works of man. Slowly, over time, breaking down his cement edifices with wear and tear; Shock and awe!

What is it that nature does, before the rains pour forth? An inevitability hovers in the air. A tension builds. An uncertainty and lack of ease pall the faces of the army of man.

When? When! When is the assault to begin?!

Ahh! A siren pierces the heavy stillness, wailing its frenzied lament of another victim. It's the fear and waiting! It breaks them down, and they simply die of fright!

The tension rises another notch. Burrard inlet is a haunting grey, still as a watery grave. Unusual! Something is coming! I feel it in my very bones.

I broke my hand many years ago, while taking pictures in a river gorge. I slipped on an algae covered stone face, while arrogantly leaping onto it. Now, as if something smashed has a second sense for coming battles, it aches like the beat of a war drum.

Even the Ravens seek protection in the branches of their coastal woods. The Seagulls usual complaining bleat is quiet. No wind is felt. Nothing moves, now.

Waiting. Damnable, waiting!

The tensions that precede the thunderstorms of the prairies are not like this slow buildup here. There is a sneaky quality. An ignoble hidden something lurking about, ready to steal your expectations and the needed release. In the prairies, you see it coming. You can gauge it. You ready yourself for the onslaughts, gird your loins, steel yourself for the occupation. Feel the release. Here, you watch, and temper your response. Hold fast.

Wait. Too soon! Not yet!

Eyes flit back and forth over the horizon. You, watch the buildup of the clouds forces on the mountains; darkening more and more of the sky. You look further out to the sea, beyond where you can imagine. It is darker still.

Wait. It is coming! Wait!

The sea, the sky and the mountains. These are nature’s grueling forces that mold your fate here. They are merciless powerful Generals whom are just as likely to argue amongst themselves, rattling their sabers, as to combine their indomitable armies against mans puny battlements.

Wait. Save your strength. Wait!

Just as likely you could wait for days like this. Knowing the inevitability of the struggle is certainly coming. Always, you are tricked! It will be within the hour, or towards the end of the day, you tell yourself with hesitation. Your eyes scan for a horizon, gone now, blended with the mutable grey of the sea. No certainty, only restlessness.

They are making ready. A shiver runs through me. Wait!

10 of Balloons 

Ten of Balloons

I was driving to pick up my boys, one weekend, in an affluent neighborhood in Winnipeg, where they lived with their Mother and step Father. The river was nearby, and I passed by large homes with spacious yards. There, I saw a driveway to a home not visible, for the trees, and noticed a sign surrounded by yellow balloons. Happy 50th Birthday was scribed on it.

I remember ruminating that this somehow represented a successful man and that this was a milestone, a banner year, in which to celebrate his honestly earned accomplishments. All of his creative efforts and loving marriage had culminated on this day of happy celebration; so I posited in that birthday sign surrounded by balloons.

Yet, who knows how this life really was. No doubt, happiness, fleeting, visited, as it does with us all. But who can keep this happiness inside walls of brick and wood? Who is capable of this Herculean task, this blood, sweat and tears, to hold fast to this ephemeral experience of secure joy and triumph; marked, as it were, by a sign surrounded by balloons.

Even the balloon, stretched and firm, soon releases its inspired life to the wind; spent and flaccid! Is this not so with happiness, too?

Yet, there are lives, sifting through time in their happy pursuits, I imagine. Simply living out each day in a magical bubble of certainty and faith. Hearts pure and innocent, established in the community; plain lives with real smiles untormented by fears and worries. Just lives, holding hands, crossing busy streets of vice and temptation, to bounteous gardens of virtues happy wholeness. Like playful children with joyful abandon and natural grace, generous with smiles, and kind.

Happiness, then! Is it time well spent? I see in that yard a wizened old man, slumped in his lawn chair, deep in a just slumber. His children's children play with abandon all around the great yard, where bounteous gardens bear their fall fruits. The remains of a festive feast lay on the table, while birds' songs twitter in the crispness of a sunny day. His dog lay by his side in simple easy obedience. His wholesomely beautiful wife looks on the happy scene from the kitchen window with a gracious smile of contented gratitude. A sleepy joy is here... as seen in the Tarot card, the Ten of Pentacles, above, from the Rider Waite Deck.

The other day, walking by another affluent neighborhood, I saw a sign, marred and weathered by some days gone by. Surrounded by dark and deflated balloons, wrinkled and unceremoniously blowing in the wind. Written, obviously with hurried strokes, was, 'Everything must go, Moving and Divorce sale! Saturday and Sunday only'!

What is, is!

What is, is! "You cannot know God, but you can experience God. So a Master is a matter of experience. Not of acceptance or denial, not of knowing or unknowing, not of having or not having, not of calling or not calling, not of welcoming or not welcoming, but of experiencing.

If you see the Buddha on the road, kill him!

This refers to an ancient Zen Buddhist saying, meant – like other non-sense proverbs of this tradition – to startle the student into a new way of looking at things. An attempt to get them out of their 'ROMANTIC SLUMBER'!

"Slaying the Buddha" means to become independent, to take responsibility for what you are and to learn to become who you ought to be. To get past your 'STORIES' about your-self'! Thus, if you find the Buddha on the road – not inside you – you know this Buddha is an imposter, an illusion, the Wizard of Oz in eastern dress. Get over it! Get Reality! Right into Light!

Shri Parthasarathi Rajagopalachari

My Guide to Heights Fantastic...

Wow, I can Blogg from my Blackberry!

Well, that is collaberative technology...

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Sent from Jerry's BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

Amaryllis

I also have a Garden which grows some things to eat, too!

RuZiK

This is a GREAT natural shot... 

Got my Franklin-Covey Micro planner today

Yeah, I use an Outlook integrated version, but need something to write on when I am not at the Laptop. I have found Planning to be a magical manifesting of reality which has a high incidence of coming together.

So, more manifesting tools and moments of witnessing the times...

Franklin-Covey Micro planner

My WorkSpace on an ACER Travelmate 6000

My workspace ...

Sahaj Marg Babuji Memorial Ashram

The Ashram in Chennai India ...

I am standing in a marble palace last April, in Chennai India.

Through Ice Echinacea, Flowerly

Through Ice Echinacea, Flowerly

I have a community garden plot where I grow Echinacea and other flora... the ice I am looking through was frozen water in a Bird Bath which I was able to take out and play with. I put it together in Adobe PhotoShop Elements; a good digital tool...

Wind Horse

I chose Wind Horse as my Blogger site name 'cause I have this T-Shirt a good friend gave me with a Tibetan Wind Horse running ... and it echos my love of biking and hiking and walking .. my body as Horse and Wind as the freedom to ride ...

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The "wind horse" design is a classic prayer flag motif. In fact the Tibetan term Lung Ta literally means wind horse, and has become practically synonymous with the English term "prayer flag". This symbol has its origin in the fact that Tibet had a deeply rooted 'horse culture", which is to say that the horse played a part of great importance in the Tibetan life ways. The image evokes the notion of a power, which is like the fastest horse in that it is swift as the wind as it goes about subduing negative forces.In the upper left corner the "kyung", who may be thought of as the Lord of Birds is pictured. He is unsurpassed in his ability to diminish diseases, and thwart the malevolent influences which the class of beings known as "Nagas" may inflict. In the upper right corner the "druk" or dragon is pictured. The dragon is associated with the power of the sky and sound. The force of the dragon's roar compels beings to awake from the cloudy obstruction of ignorance. In the lower left we see "senge", the lion - lord of beasts and the symbol of strength and freedom from fear. In the lower right is "tag" or the tiger - which symbolizes confidence and the satisfaction which one may justifiably rest in when one has become firmly established on the path of Dharma.