chomp

the heart is not a duplex

there's no storage
of false information

there's no compartment
for hiding

there's just
one blazing fire

no thing left

no refrigerator,
no freezer,
no north pole
or south

there's nothing
that can escape it

it's coming for you
now

right now

see that "tree"
that "sky"
that "voice'

these words

it's the fire of Love
here to burn you up

and turn you into cinders

that's what it's all for

the end
of "you"

every crumb,

gobble,
gobble,
gobble...

get it?

:-)))

nothing else

your Heart is singing
and where are you?

your Heart needs nothing,
She cannot be silenced,
She cannot be put out

Life is not mortal.
Life springs eternal.

"it" has a plan,
some little plan,
to grab a crumb
of safety,
such a little plan

and your Heart,
like a raging forest fire
lights up everything

every little thing
cannot be seen at all
without your Heart

it shines now on your face, dear one,
let go,
melt into it,
all your little fears,
boundaries, borders,
restrictions, defenses
cannot hold long against Love

you need not worry about
the outcome,
all wax melts in the warmth,

there is no ice
that does not melt
in the sun

so you, dear one,
are over
already

there is nothing else
you need to be

between the words

life is spontaneous,

is there really any question?

only glazed eyes,
looking "back",
looking "forward"

could possibly worry

thought,
pre ordained,
concept

of course, you don't feel alive,
like "something is off"

mind enclosed in a capsule
while
your Heart is singing away!

of course, you feel deprived,
like you are missing out on something

your step is skipping,
your child is playing,

and you are not there!

don't know what's happening,
(what's gonna happen,
what '"has happened")

now that's living!

now that's singing!

grace

(sitting on "my" couch in "my" living room
after facilitating a woman on "i'd be happier
if I had children")

"I'd be happier if ________."

No, you wouldn't.

Who would tell you such a thing?!@
(what a cruel thing to say, to think...
what a guarantee of emptiness)

without that thought...

so lovely
just sitting here

it's really only that thought
that has ever caused unhappiness

sitting in the glow
without that thought

just look! what "God" gave you!

perfect mirror image,
newborn kisses

perfectly fitted
delicious
hand tailored
yes, that is the perfect tv for me--small screen,
the perfect flowering cactus,
yes, the artwork
is so me

i'd be happier if what?
if i had a different reflection in the mirror?

that's what we're saying

without the thought "i'd be happier if _____"
i see i chose everything exactly as it is.
i hand picked it,
every pillow, cushion, paint color,
carpet, flooring,
lotion, book
even this pen cartridge

how 'bout your body, you say,
did you hand pick it?

without the thought "i'd be happier if..."
i adore
this "thing",
called a "hand"

oh my God,
amazing,
this miracle of a hand,
fingers!
falling in love with it
for the first time.
i've truly never seen it
 before
(through such loving eyes)

"hand picked"...
funny,
even that points to
the value of this hand

what would i have to be thinking
to not be enthralled
with this "hand"?

i mean really,
if you think you've got a problem,
just take a look at your hand
and notice the gift it is

with the thought "i'd be happier if..."
i completely miss it.
For 58 years I've never seen my hand
like i do today.
Never felt so much love for it.

how many ways "God" has shown up,
how rich the "books"
that sit in piles on the floor,
the table, and rest waiting on the shelf

oh, by the way, God,
none of this is good enough...

NONE of this,
the ENTIRE HOUSE and all its contents
doesn't do it.

it's hard to fathom
this has been a mantra

the bottle of lotion
stands so elegantly,
silently,
humble
and regal,
day and night
just waiting to serve
whether i ever touch it again
or not

even the foil on the coffee cup,
two chapsticks, and bottle of eyedrops...

i am so rich,
so rich

without the thought
"i'd be happier if..."

muscle

meteor showers!
for no reason

the low lying clouds,
heavy on the ground

murking days and hours
in the contracted heart

Tolstoy, Dostoevsky like drama,
a cold Russian winter,
Siberian boots walking across  my chest
in the night

and in the morning,
still cold

am i dying?
on the way down the hill...?

and out of Nowhere
the bicep begins pumping iron!

it LOVES this motion,
this "work"

strength is.
in it

resistance and strength are lovers

the heavier the weight,
the darker the night,
the more my adequacy,
capability,
and Generative Life--
rejuvenating Itself

glows

a spark

there's a spark
in each of your words,

in every thought,

intelligence
and love,
beCause that's Where
It came from,

even the idea of "you"
arose

a shower of thoughts, words, pictures

fireworks!

there is no darkness
in any word or thought

it's not possible for a thought
to be vacant,
to be empty

it is

a spark!

shooting up out of the Invisible Fire,
out of the Night Sky

simply happening,
poppety pop pop!

you can't stop the flower from blooming
or the grass from growing!

O my goodness
what a show!

what would you give you

what would you give you this Christmas?

would you give you worthiness?

a sense of value to the world,

would you see the love you've contributed,
the kindness,
the joy,
the support,
the comfort,
the generosity,

how many smiles you've shared,
how many times your eyes have lit up,
your heart warmed,
your tender listening,

how many hands you've held,
how many lessons you've opened to,
how many meals you've shared,

how much quiet meditation,
how much stillness,
how much gratitude,
how much laughter,
how much silliness and humor,

and quiet depth,

how much reverence,
how much honesty and integrity...

have you noticed
how big your heart is?

would you give you this?

so many presents
to open