dilation

dilation

the end of the inner and outer,

no separation
without a wall,

without enclosure,

all endings but openings of spaciousness,

dilation,
new airways open
endlessly

beyond the stars,
beyond the perimeter
of these words

beyond any edge you can imagine

dilation,
i am closer than close
to all that i am

no thing
at all,
no infinitesimal crumb between
myself and I

oh how i ran away from this lack of boundaries
oh how frightened
i imagined
complete dilation to be

yet
God only gives

God only gives
increasing
expansion

dilation,
and there is no more contraction,
no more contractual agreements
to tighten up and limit dilation

no more  penny pinching,
when all that is and isn't,
is already completely
yours, mine and ours

dearest love,
my deepest apology
for any thought of smallness
i ever breathed life into

dilation
expands every material object to its rightful infinity,
given back to Source,

Dilation,
another name for God,
for reality

for This
experience

no "past" or "future",
only continuous dilation

opening

every imagined particle

giving greater and greater space
to itself,
the Unknowable,

dilating,

what are you?

I ask I

dilation is my experience

even as a contraction
appears to shut off the blood
in its vessel
and a throbbing headache
seems to build from the pressure
of the damning...

even here
as i so tenderly caress
this infant in my hands,
dilation gifts the deepest intimacy:
i with I

at last,
Home,
not to a little house of childhood,
but of Dilation,
where only That
beyond the concept of Infinity
can ever hold me

ever

expanding...

infused

there is nothing anyone
can ever do or say
to make "you" feel better

be cause
that is not You.

You are not lack.

You are Overflowing

Your very nature is
enthusiasm

infused
illumined
enlightened

saturated,
the scent of Heaven
is strong
among us

stop,
and smell the roses,
we say

stop,
and take in
the scent
of your brother...
it was given him
for you

where are you running to
so fast,
you would leave this gift unopened?
and feel but emptiness
rushing toward the next and the next and the next...

leaving This
unreceived,

breathe in
your brother

let him
enter you

allow the Joy
of his heart
to be

watch

the most beautiful flower
in all the universe,

infused,

your brother's heart,

be slow now

listen deeply
to the silence

allow
the silence

Christ

Christ showed up as my door today,

not at my door,
but, yes, as my "door"

stopped in my tracks
by its beauty

holy altar

infinite shades and shapes
of white

sunlight reflecting up
off the floor

i can't take my eyes
off of you

tears

for such incredible beauty

ever present
every where

every where
every miniscule and gargantuan
location
in space
or not space

the "hinges"
vertebrae
stacked curves
loops

like incoming waves
continuously changing reflections
nuances
subtleties
flowing

as viewer shifts one micron in space
or time
never to be seen again

not even in memory

Home
at last,
where Only Beauty exists

get out of jail free card :-)

The Path,
your path,
any path,
The Way of It,
this moment,

isn't pathological

what a pathological interpretation
that Reality,
what is,
is pathological

that's an insane perspective:

the sun (you fill in your word, worry, idol, criticism)
shouldn't be there

can you see the disaster
you make
of Heaven,
maximal Love,
the best it can ever be,
now?

the simplest thing in all the world,
what is

only the intellect,
intellectual,
would complicate
the present moment

with an abstract past,
an abstract future,
an abstract, distant "foreign country",
an abstract "other",
abstract borders and boundaries
where there are none

aren't you always awareness?

watching thoughts/images/words
and "sensations"?

awareness is not hierarchy nor categorization,

awareness is not effort,

it just is

here is the kiss
of you
to you
to wake you

a get out of jail free card :-)

awareness has no cost...ever

awareness

images,
sensations,
words,
are the stuff
of play

stirring the bowl of water
to watch the leaf spin around

soaping the bathtub
to slide down
and around

sledding hill,
ice skating,

packing snow,
crunching ice,

twisting up the swing
to let go and spin around

shaking pop
to watch it fizz

remember the stuff
of childhood?
mud between toes

what's your earliest memory?
smell?
lilies of the valley,
violets

colors?
green plastic plate,
music man record,
brushing hair,
pink tufty bedspread

the stuff of childhood,
play

not one thing serious about it,

watch...
 it comes
and goes
and

 never stops,

no matter what we call it...

there is not one thing
you have control over

have you noticed?

someone told you once
that what you see
isn't supposed to be there,

it isn't so

it just isn't so

awareness is not attack

without a dime

"It is not Christ that can be crucified." (acim lesson 303)

Egolessness cannot be "hurt",
diminished.

Egolessness offers everything I want.

Without one need,
without a dime to my name,
to hold,
to carry,
to grasp tight to  my fingers...

without one dime,
I am free
to ask,
to not know (that money is necessary, how to survive...)
what I am here for

What?
beyond mere survival,
what Gift
am i here to share,
to offer?

it is This that provides for me,
is provided
and given

i'm not a body,
here but to take up space,
suck up resources
and compete with others
to eat

no, babes,
I am Song!!!!

Song!
do you hear?

every infant a new note,
a melody
of the continuing Love Song,
serenading me

every voice,
another word of Love,
every eye,
a flower

tree: Love
grass: Love
fence: Love
you: Love
me: Love
coffee cup: Love Song

appreciation is the only appropriate response
to anything

Gifts beyond counting...
beyond measure,

without one dime
to my name!

what am i here to give
right now?

and the archaic idea of getting
but dissolves to dust,
like the ancient yellow paper
it was written on

Merry Christmas to all,
You are the gift
to you
and to every one.

Thank you

lifting the body off your brother

lifting the body
off your brother

what is there?

what do you see now,
holding his hand,
without the physical hand?

where is he?

isn't it but your Heart,
where he lives?

where else could he be?

is there a space outside your heart,
a space where your heart isn't?

a space Love did not create,
inhabit,
and ooze endlessly
through every pore?

a space in the universe
your smile doesn't warm?

would you put your brother
in a vacuum?

can it be that radiance
is a vacuum?

can it be that "my brother"
is  not "me"?

One

the unnameable
untouchable
undestroyable

inseparable


lifting the body
off your brother,
what is there?

flight of a "U"

can you find your unworthy self in the word "unworthy", in the letters...?

oh oh oh

noooooooooo...i cannot

this moment
i discovered, uncovered, revealed
only love
for "U"

the smoothness,
the flowing curve
of Her,
surely a She!

feel it
like driving on a straightaway
and then slowly curving
and as you round the curve,
just like when you were a kid sitting in the back seat,
you are pushed to the outside edge,
the wall of the car,
the others leaning against you,
squeezed and sandwiched by your friends and family
 on a carnival ride...

and then as you emerge from the bend
you are released,
weightless once again

feel
your finger, your lips,
 on a smooth piece of driftwood,
the polished curve of a pebble,
the warm clay
being rolled into "worms"
and the ends joined to form an endlessly curving circle

the U
like a skateboard ramp,
the boarder dives off,
gains  momentum
to rush up the other side
and pop up into the air, like dotting an "i",
to land on the ledge

or
swivel in midair
to drop back down
and fountain up to where she first
dove
off the
cliff...

trusting
exhilarated
blissed
and blessed
by such a
"shape"

an enclosure,
a cupped hand
in which to travel
every possibility

a sweet "I",
flexibly doing her yoga,
bending in the middle,
as her "two ends", extremes,
 draw close to each other
and say,
i am not rigid,
i am not fixed,
i am not separate

straight, but in this moment,
my range is infinite,
i am here but to serve,
sweetheart, to serve

all this,
and i have hardly begun
to express,
to share
the wonder of  U

the doors have been opened,
the castle is lit

no, i cannot find unworthy in
these "letters",
these "shapes",
this Beloved
design and beauty,
that a scared lost ragamuffin
once tried to hijack
and blanket
with the meaning
of "unworthy"

listen but to the sounds
as you slowly allow each full nuance to be,
play with it, slow and fast, hushed and booming,
the music of U, n, w, o,r, th,y...
notice,
feel
the dance,
the yoga of the tongue,
lips,
jaw
as this song
is released
to invisibly vibrate
throughout the entire cosmos

isn't this really
your heart's endless
capacity?

bucks the tide

stillness

bucks the tide:

go
move
do
feed me,
sugar!
prizes
rewards
approval
prove prove prove
i am,
"i" exist,
am worthy

above all
don't stop

don't rest for a moment
or you may see
the spinning wheel,
so fast
so constant
so never ending

you may see the pattern,
the repetition,
of just 
one
thought
in many forms:
"separate"

feelings of unfulfilled,
future,
past,
empty

standing still
in just this moment
can be revolutionary

realization:
i'm not hungry
i don't need,

gratitude
wholeness
connection
space
infinity
all there is

breathe,

now,

notice:

it's being done,

no need to struggle,

rest,

stillness
bucks the tide

of "danger"

in stillness
i watch her flail about
like rumplestiltskin,
and simply disappear
in a poof of smoke

just a bunch of steam,
 a moment of sleep, forgetfulness,
believing
he was his own dad   :-)

ripple down effect

of a bucking

a tide...

the world,
she wakes,
and remembers
she is

God

what are you doing here?

sometimes you have to go back,
be cause
you missed it
the first time...

"what are you doing here?"
he said

she heard a tone
she heard lack of love
she heard rejection
she heard failure
she heard inadequacy

she
did not hear 
the question

"what
are you
doing
here?"

now,
in just this instant?

no idea

without a past,
without a future...

maybe i'm here
to hear
the question

to hear
the rushing sound
of the "heater",

to see,
to feel,
the curve of the arm of the rocking chair

to hear
the creaking in the ceiling

to feel
cold toes,
the smooth flow of ink as pen moves across paper

to breathe,
to feel
the rise and fall of the chest,
in and out of nose

to see
sunlight
on deck outside window

to see #78 light up in yellow
on the cable box

isn't that everything?

there will never be more than 'this'

if i can't completely love
this little heater
in front of me now,
whooshing and purring

i will never be more fulfilled
than this moment

if i deny this moment
its repetoire,
its choir,
it,
infinity,
without a name...

i will forever be lonely,
looking
for the next hit...
to  kill
my nightmare
of NOT

in this little heater
is all of Heaven

exclude nothing
from Love's arena...

that's what's i'm here for,
to experience what its like
to exclude nothing
from Love

thank you, Aaron,
from the bottom of my heart
for asking such a profound
and direct question...

sometimes
you have to go back,
be cause
you missed it
the first time...

without exclusion of reality

the Lord is my Shepherd

I shall not want

it is  not of you,
it is through you

there is nothing you can do
to make Love happen,
or not happen

Love is.
Everything.

break earth's stupid sleep
break of day light
break the fast of denial of Love

the Keeper of the Home
is forever at Home,
feels at Home
with everything,
every situation,
every thought

the sheep are my thoughts

the Lord loves his sheep,
let's no "lost" sheep ever be lost,
under the Master's watchful eye,

there's only ever been one to watch,
the "stray":

you have never ever been alone
since you/time arose
in the hand of the Master,
a 'wild' idea,
silly

remember but to laugh
at the arrogance of
believing that the sun(rain, snow, person, voice...)
shouldn't shine today...
that it's too hot!(or cold!)

it simply should
be exactly as it is,
because it is

herein lies the peace of God--
plain as day,
no secret,
no long lifetimes
of spiritual seeking

you need look no further
for the error,
for the light,
for sanity

seek no more for anything
more complicated,
deeper
or higher

Truth is obvious
and could not be plainer
or simpler

everything else is deception--
self-deception

that is the cause of all pain

be grateful it is so simple
and no further moment
is required for perfect joy.

amen.

sanity:
radical (no exclusion of reality)
acceptance

loving
what
is

quiet joy

it's a quiet joy--

a secret.

nobody else needs to know

some will see it as attack,
comparing themselves

you're lying, they say,
no one can be that "happy"

f@#k you! don't point out my sores,
make my pain greater,
telling me,
that if i wanted
i could choose otherwise
or that i should be happy...

now i'm doubly damned!

no,

the peace
that passeth understanding
is very very quiet

a space
to love
it all

the feeling
is for
you

Pop! ple!

some things in life are just freely given

like joy
like humor
and the color pink!!!

can you imagine this world without pink?!@

oh so sweet potatoes
ruffles
petticoats
lips
sink bubble bath
cheeks warming
hearts
art
pickles ripening in the sun
just a hint of pink
to kno' when ripe
and juicy to pluck
the free flowing juices

of joy
running through me,
the river runs through it all,

plopped into this moment,
what sweetness this holds
"art teacher" it says on the IRS form,

(ha ha ha ha!)
...says nothing,
about the "job",
really?!

hanging out with fun loving open hearted "women",
students of beingness
willingness
playfulness
and exuberance

called past timidity,
despite reservation
and all hesitation
to join,
come!
to play with 'This'!

a sandbox of burnt wood,
 colored liquids,
to splash, dabble,
pour and mix
with glee and ink,
tearing paper
and gluing it back together,
crooked, upside over lapping, kissing..."the other"
allowing hearts
free range

e
merge
enceny

spontaneous pop! ple!

where "we" can literally sing out!
the radiance multiplies
welcomed, welcoming  and lovely tenderly drippling and 
no wording,
 just running down the page...

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......
i love that!!!

the warmth is tangible
the outer image
is felt
within

siblime magic of 
a "paint crackle"

and
i
did nothing

to be
"This"

this love
of seeing

encouragement
enthusiasm
appreciation

some things in life
are just freely given

like joy
like humor
and the color pink!

(and turquoise :-)

out and under

she built her house,

and then
she moved out

so it is
in every moment

what is?

the house
wasn't her

it dawned on her
to take off her jacket
and the one under that
and every jacket she had ever tried on...

her skin
her bones
her grandparents
her father and mother, sister, brother

until there was no thing left
to take off...

and she could not contain
her smile