Come meander with me on the pathless path of the Heart
in these anecdotal,
sometimes inspiring, sometimes personal meanderings of the Heart's opening in the every-day-ness of life...

Wednesday, April 14, 2021

Still Mind - Hazrat Inayat Khan

 Where is the voice of "God" [The Sacred] heard?  In silence.
The seers, the saints, the sages, the prophets, the masters,
they have heard that voice which comes from within by
making themselves silent.  I do not mean by this that because
one has silence one will be spoken to; I mean that once one is
silent one will hear the word, which is constantly coming from
within.  When the mind has been made still, a person also
communicates with everyone he meets.  He does not need many
words: when the glance meets he understands.  Two persons
may talk and discuss all their lives and yet never understand
one another.  Two others with still minds look at one another
and in one moment a communication is established between them.

Where do the differences between people come from?  From within.
From their activity.  And how does agreement come?  By the
stillness of the mind.  It is noise which hinders a voice that we hear
from a distance, and it is the troubled waters of a pool which hinder
us seeing our own image reflected in the water.  When the water
is still it takes a clear reflection; and when our atmosphere is still
then we hear that voice which is constantly coming to the heart
of every person.

Sufi Teacher, Poet and Musician

with thanks to No Mind's Land
Photo also via No Mind's Land

Tuesday, April 13, 2021

The "Work" of Happiness - May Sarton

 I thought of happiness, how it is woven
Out of the silence
in the empty house each day
And how it is not sudden and it is not given
But is creation itself like the growth of a tree.
No one has seen it happen, but inside the bark
Another circle is growing in the expanding ring.
No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark,
But the tree is lifted by this inward work.
And its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.

So happiness is woven out of the peace of hours
And strikes its roots deep in the house alone;
The old chest in the corner, cool waxed floors,
White curtains softly and continually blown
AS the free air moves quietly about the room;
A shelf of books, a table, and the white-washed walls --
These are the dear familiar gods of home,
And here the work.....can be done,

For what is happiness but growth in peace,
The timeless sense of time when furniture
Has stood a life's span in a single place,
And as the air moves, so the old dreams stir
The shining leaves of present happiness?
No one has heard thought or listened to a mind,
But where people have lived in inwardness
The air is charged with blessing and does bless...

May Sarton
from: Collected Poems: 1930-1993

with thanks to The Beauty We Love


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Sunday, April 11, 2021

Be Undone - Clare Blanchflower

photo by Martin Stranka

 In the willingness
to be so fully undone
For all strategies to end
Surrender is here...

To see and be seen
in the light
of what is

To rest
as undefended
at the feet of Life

Being humbled
again and again
As threads
of defense
and the true power
of Being
is embodied
Life living ItSelf

A pure power
that wants nothing
A power
that says
I don't know...

And the eternal heart
beats in
silent reverence

Clare Blanchflower
Original title - "Devotion Is"

Friday, April 9, 2021

Grace Comes...

 Grace comes unbidden...
Her soft Presence comforts in the
coldest dawn and darkest night,
and sits with us when we are broken,
beaten down by the "life game"...

She is the antidote for an aching heart
and struggling body...

She hears your silent tears...
and walks with you...

Grace brings you love and kindness
to endure the crosswinds that bite...

It's all Grace -
come to bind the wounds from those
who tried to suffocate your voice,
who tried to kill your spirit...

She softens the heart
and clears the pain from your vision...

She is always with us,
even in the death of the body.
She is "the beautiful woman sitting on
the fence," come to take you "home,"
or to your next "journey" -
wherever that may be...

Grace has come, Grace has come!

She is singing her love song!

There is nothing to do but surrender
and let Grace sing her song of Love
to the weary heart...


Mystic Meandering
April 8, 2021

The reference to "the beautiful woman on the fence"
is something my mother experienced during her
dying process 2 years ago...
Hospice said she was hallucinating, but we knew she was *seeing.*
She saw a beautiful woman sitting on the fence out her window,
at the top of a small incline, on many occasions.
She said: "the beautiful woman on the fence
has come to take me on my next journey."

Grace Comes...


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Wednesday, April 7, 2021

Insistent Grace - Stephen Levine & Ivan Granger

 There is a grace approaching
that we shun as much as death,
it is the completion of our birth.

It does not come in time,
but in timelessness
when the mind sinks into the heart
and we remember.

It is an insistent grace that draws us
to the edge and beckons us surrender
safe territory and enter our enormity.

We know we must pass
beyond knowing
and fear the shedding.

But we are pulled upward
through forgotten ghosts
and unexpected angels,

And there is nothing left to say
but we are That.

Stephen Levine
Original title: "Millennium Blessing"

Commentary by Ivan Granger

Most of us spend our entire lives avoiding that inner opening.
Most of the time it is a quiet itch at the back of the awareness
we squirm and turn away from.  And when it really presses
on us, it can inspire terror, as if we were facing death.

It is the death of our old world view, the death of patterned
awareness, the death of our limited notion of who we are.  All
we thought ourselves to be stops - and so it is a sort of death.
To feel that grace approaching, to welcome it, requires a sort
of courage.

It requires courage, and surrender.  We have this idea that
spiritual opening is a terrible effort... No...  That unfolding
wants to occur within us.  The only effort is to let go of our
endless strategies to halt the process.  We all feel it, a gentle
prodding to let the heart open, to know ourselves truly, to be
present and radiate ourselves into the world.  It is insistent,
trying to happen within us.  Call it grace, if you like.  The
question presented to us: Do we courageously accept the
invitation or not?

For those of us who live in contemporary society, how hard
it is to stop the ticking of the clock?  From such an early age
we internalize the sense of time and progress and deadlines.
Yet, in doing so, we forget that these are all just concepts,
just one way to understand the unfolding of being and
experience.  That sense of time is a powerful tool for doing
and accomplishment, but it isn't inherently "real."  It doesn't
have much to do with who or what we are.  There is a flow of
days and months, but they are the surface current of a much
deeper timelessness.

It's fascinating how we use the hyperactivity of thought to
define the world, to frame our perception of the world, and
in some ways to limit our notion of the world.  The other
thing about thought:  It creates time.  When thought settles
down, we discover timelessness.  And as the poet says, the
mind comes to rest, not in the head, but in the heart.

And we remember.  It is not through intellection but through
stillness that we remember.  Look at the word "remember."
Re-member.  To remember is to finally see how apparently
separated reality actually fits together in a single body.
Discursive thought can only ever examine pieces of the whole.
To remember is to have the full vision of Wholeness, as
things actually are.  But this vision is found in timelessness
and stillness, through the quiet mind unfiltered.

Ivan Granger
Poetry Chaikhana


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Monday, April 5, 2021

Step Into What You Are - Matt Licata

 At times, the most wise and soulful action is to establish a
boundary with another.  To stand up and assert what it is
that we need.  To move in an empowered and swift way to
maintain our integrity.  To privilege our autonomy.  To
meet narcissism, abuse, misattunement, and neglect with a
fierce embodied response.

This is not only the case with "external" others, but also
with the multitude of "internal" others as they emerge as
voices, figures, and images in the interior landscape.

As we wake in the morning, wander through the day, in
liminal states and at the entryway to sleep and dream...
we may notice their presence, arriving quietly in one
moment and as firestorm in the next - telling us:

"There is something wrong with you.  You have failed
again. You have done life wrong. You are unworthy of
mercy, of grace.  You are beyond redemption.  You are
unlovable and unwanted.  You do not belong here."

The images and voices of the past, shadow emanations
of authorities, cultures, and lineages of intergenerational
trauma and trance.  The voices of a realm that has forgotten
the holy,
the sensitive, the eccentric, and raging uniqueness
of the heart.

But in a moment when perception is clear and a glimpse
is given from behind the veil, it is seen that the visitors
come not to harm, but to reveal.  But they, too, must be
met with boundaries of clear seeing.  To not accept what
they say at face value, but to enter into dialogue and to
find the way into what is most true.  To not merely accept
their conclusions, proposed tunnels of reality, and the
psychic lenses through which they have come to see...

But step into what you are.  To live in and from that as
your poetic offering to a weary world.  To take the risk
of telling a new story, dreaming a new dream, and
weaving new cloth.  And to allow yourself to be toned
and tuned by the great Weaver herself...
breathing and sensing and listening as a new vision is


Photo: Art - Mystic Meandering

Sunday, April 4, 2021


 Breaking free of concepts, constructs, beliefs and stories
that have kept me entombed...
I rise...

Waking up to my "True Nature"
a living expression of "The Sacred" within me...
I rise...

Untangling the tattered threads of old roles, old crafted identities
worn to make me feel safe and important...
I rise...

Letting go of frayed "lifelines" that kept
me tethered to the shore of familiarity and conformity...
I rise...

Now not needing to be other than who I Am
my natural, playful, creative, expressive Aliveness...
I rise...

Mystic Meandering
April 3, 2021


Photo: Vortex Art 2010 - Mystic Meandering
done with fingers and Craypas oils

Friday, April 2, 2021

Realer than real - Nancy Neithercut

There is a common misconception that enlightenment happens
*to* the person.  And somehow this imaginary character becomes
a no-self.  And obviously anyone who thinks that they are
enlightened also believes that there was a path or method that
they used to get there or to attain that, where there's nothing
to attain and no "person" to get it.

People long to escape their humanness.  As you grow up you
learn morals, you learn what to be like, how to act in society.
These morals generally come from some religion originating
from some God or giant authority keeping society together.
And one of the first ones they try to teach you is how to try to
be selfless.  So they tell you to give some of your candy to
Marianne.  And Marianne is happy to get it and your parents
or caregivers are happy that you've done it and so you feel
good about yourself.  So this seemingly selfless act was very
selfish wasn't it.  Lol

So the goal of many of these religions and societies is to become
a selfless person.  That sounds good to so many because they
can't stand the pain that they feel, the loneliness they feel
inside.  They have been taught that anger and jealousy are bad,
so they are trying to have only nice happy thoughts and nice
happy emotions and act selflessly, but this simply cannot be done.
And it is quite understandable that some people would be 
trying to erase or change themselves, their thought and emotion
in order to feel better.  However, I do think that unless they had
heard of it [as some teach it] they would not be trying to get
rid of the self.

So there are people who claim they have reached this rarefied
atmosphere.  And often they are revered and people imitate their
actions and language they use.  And they give instructions on how
to reach this unreachable place.  And seekers love this stuff because
 it gives them a path and it solidifies the Belief in [a separate] self.

And these "teachers" are revered and given a lot of flattery.  And
the authority hierarchy power driven cult is born.  I knew one
woman who said that there's nothing that you can do or not do 
[to attain enlightenment].  A few years later she was giving
instructions.  Other prominent "teachers" and "teachings" tell
 people to "drop the story" [of me], obviously not realizing that
there is no one who can drop,or not drop anything as we only
exist as a story...

It's all simultaneously dream-like and realer than real...

Nancy Neithercut

 With thanks to No Mind's Land


There is no "better" version of the self;
no "enlightened" version of the self.
You don't become your big "S" Self...
We are all "The Mystery" in funky clothes :)




Photo - Nancy Neithercut
via No Mind's Land

Love those funky clothes!  :)

Thursday, April 1, 2021


 What is my purpose in life? I asked "the Void"

Your problem is that you equate 
your purpose with goal-based

The Universe isn't interested in your achievements...

Just your heart...

When you choose to act out of kindness, compassion
and love, you already are aligned with
your true purpose...

author unknown


On any given day it's not about the goal.
it's about the experience of living...

of simply being...

author unknown


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Child of the Milky Way - Chet Raymo

 I am a child of the Milky Way.  I am made of the dust of stars.
Every atom in my body was forged in a star.  When the
Universe exploded into being, already the bird longed for
the wood and the fish for the pond.  When the first galaxies
fell into luminous clumps, already matter was struggling
toward consciousness.

The star clouds of Sagittarius are a burning bush.  If there is
a voice in Sagittarius, I'd be a fool not to listen.  If "God's" 
voice in the night is a scrawny cry, then I'll prick up my ears.
If night's faint lights fail to knock me off my feet, then I'll sit
 back on a dark hillside and wait and watch.  A hint here and
a trait there.  Listening and watching.  Waiting, always waiting,
for the tingle in the spine.

Chet Raymo
from: Soul of the Night: An Astronomical Pilgrimage

With thanks to Cate Kerr
Beyond the Fields We Know

Photo - Cate Kerr


How can you explain the mystery of the Inexplicable?
You can only surrender to it...
My "medicine" - my wild comfort -
is the wonderment and splendor
of the Infinite Cosmos...
It soothes my Soul.



Monday, March 29, 2021

A Moratorium on Names - LaMotte

 I've been in love for seven million years.
It was always you.
Don't ruin it now by telling me your name.
Isn't it time for a moratorium on names,
so that we may finally see?

A moratorium on the name of God
and the word Peace,
until we learn to use them as verbs.
A moratorium on Love, so that this body
may be love's exquisite synonym.
A moratorium on Better, Worse,
on Sin and Hell, or Heaven too,
so that our eyes may grow
accustomed to the earth.

A moratorium on the names Christ,
Krishna, Allah, Yahweh,
so the "goddess" may have room to breathe,
and we may hear her inscrutable murmur
from the cavern of the prophet in each
human heart, her infinitesimal thunder
in a violet's bell, rung by a dewdrop.

Isn't it time to reinvent the tongue,
so the Ineffable may babble sweet
new names for the One Who Is?


Fred LaMotte


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Saturday, March 27, 2021

El Shaddai - Fred LaMotte

Myriad names of God swirl from the womb of holy silence.
Just so, stars spiral from a black hole at the center of the galaxy.
Yet all the black holes in the cosmos are one and the same fertile
void.  This star-birthing singularity, the infinite hush of the maternal
dark, is not far away.  It is the core of your being, the bindhu at the
center of your heart.

In Jewish Kabbala, the Great Seal of Protection is a mandala
containing 72 divine names.  We can find similar mantra-mandalas
made of Tibetan and Sanskrit letters.  In the untranslated letters of
St. Pachomias, "father of Christian monasticism", I have seen such
mandalas of syllables written in Old Latin.  They were possibly
derived from the Demotic, the language of Egypt, home to the
wisdom schools of Christian Gnosticism.  In all these mystical
traditions - Indian, Tibetan, Hebrew, Christian - the names are
bija mantras, healing sound-vibrations used in meditation.

In the Old Testament , the Lord tells Abraham that, "my name is 
El Shaddai," usually translated God Almighty.  But the etymology
is uncertain.  As with many sacred Hebrew words, there are alternate
roots, each with its own significance, resulting in parallel
commentaries. These multiple roots are complimentary,
not contradictory.

One root of Shaddai means "fertile field, uncultivated wilderness."
This would suggest the other divine names, which are the very
energies of creation, spring from a wild impregnable field
to which
the intellect of man may lay no claim - or what Christian mystic
Ruysbroeck called, "the wayless wilderness of the Godhead."

...in the most popular etymology of the Hebrew word, Shaddai means
"mother's breasts."  El Shaddai is the "God who is like a mother's
breasts," the feminine power.  So countless worlds, innumerable
energies, and all the names of God are born of one Mother,
who is the divine Silence
This Silence we may experience,
 but never "know."  
For this is the
Silence of The Beloved...

Fred LaMotte


Thursday, March 25, 2021

The "Cosmic Mother"...

 Laying down the burdens of existence,
coming to rest in the 
"Mother Energies": the "originating
feminine energies" of the Cosmos...
Unfettered, Unbuffeted 
by the strain of life circumstances - well, some days...

Embraced, and tangibly Infused by
this Primordial Source Energy - Always...

This undefinable, formless "Cosmic Mother"
invites this meandering mystic to sit,
as I stumble across the threshold of a doorless door...
into an Ineffable space that holds all...

There is no "thinking" here - yet "thinking" still occurs
as mental images and constructs
of present life occurrences pass through,
which now hold no reign on the mind - well almost -
fledgling that I am...  :)

The past - just fleeting memories passing through
with no mental or emotional attachment - surprisingly;
like wandering through a foreign land
with no attachment to or somatic contraction from
the experience - so far, but it's only been a few weeks...
The shift to a new orientation, re-framing the perspectives,
untangling what I perceived to be real is still occurring...

Pathways of the Primal Mother Energies now leaving their
imprint in the brain and body - very subtly...

The body trying to self-correct after a life-time of walking
the energetic History Trail of Family Dynamics in physicality -
core survival issues that have left indelible scars - beginning to release...

Realizing that All That Is is this exquisite Primal Energy
expressing Itself through every experience; experiencing Itself
in many forms; morphing Itself into different expressions, 
different life experiences, reshaped by life occurrences that
also shaped my perspectives and perceptions...

Now finally experiencing the fluidity of the "Mother Energy"
that innately flows through me/us - like an Aurora Borealis
subtly streaming through this body, leaving its own illumined
energetic signature...

Mystic Meandering
Meditative Writings
March 21, 2021


Photo - Mystic Meandering
Cosmic Snow Chair
(created through lunapic)

Monday, March 22, 2021


 Our "Winter" snow here in Colorado often comes in March,
  The snowiest month of our Winter season that crosses into Spring.
 It did not disappoint this year.   Last week we got over a foot of snow
 with 3-4 foot drifts.  Today about 3 inches - clinging to the trees,
creating a winter wonderland, and tomorrow night another 2 inches maybe :)
  I love the snow, and this magical  season. 
  I grew up in New England and have missed the snowy winters.

Here's a short photo montage with a playful, artsy twist
at the end...

The picture above transformed into this, below, with the help of lunapic,
a photo editing website - looking like a folk art painting...

and into this - my favorite - a cosmic look...
Of course it all depends on your perspective... :)

Springtime is traditionally a time of renewal. 
but in the current zeitgeist, with yet another mass shooting, 
and the pandemic continuing, millions out of work, ongoing hatred
and racism etc., I don't see that happening until a mass shift in
human consciousness occurs which means a change in

Saturday, March 20, 2021

This Shines On - Miriam Louisa

 This shines on
whether I'm in bitch mode or radiating benevolence
whether I'm depressed or enjoying equanimity
whether I'm achingly weary or frolicking tirelessly.

This shines on
whether my bookshelves are stacked with scriptures,
chick-lit, crime or porn
whether my shoes are microfiber or leather, my coat cotton or mink
whether my fridge is piously vegan or robustly carnivore.

This shines on
whether my philosophical tendencies veer towards the
 scientific and secular
or the mystical and metaphysical
whether I'm a closet optimist disguised as a cynic
or a knee-jerk nay-sayer, jus sayin

Don't be fooled.  This shines on
- pristine, incorruptible -

This shines on
whether you agree with me as you scan these words
or jump to defend your own view
whether you accept me as a flicker of the vast Light that we are
or turn your back on our inextricable intimacy.

This shines on
and in, and from, and through, every perception,
every experience and every face and fact of World
known by human and non-human Knowingness
|(and I exclude nothing, no thing in creation
from that capacity of Knowingness.)

This shines on
The sages call it Reality, but beware: it's not a thing, an object
or even a state.  To name it is to turn from it, but it could care less.
It shines on regardless.

Miriam Louisa Simons
This Unlit Light

With thanks to No Mind's Land


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Thursday, March 18, 2021

Stillness Speaks - Ginny Lonsdale

Photo: David Peters - Milky Way

 a field, transparent expanse
no inside, no outside,
no boundary
though all things
underneath all things
before all things
from which all things arise -
just movement rising and falling

no agitation
no naming
no reference - one thing to another
nothing is object
and no attributes
thus nothing strikes -
one thing against the other
no agitation

It is peace, utter peace
'the peace that passeth understanding'
the words 'peace' and 'calm'
are limp slivers of linguistic conceit
they cannot transmit this knowing

HOME of pure freedom
no me - no past, no identity - completely unbound
only awareness
deep unfathomable peace

just the gift that always is
Reality's Self

emerging through the door of this transcendent HOME
one last kiss and wave off:
"this is Stillness. people live in this Stillness"
a respectful, gentle invitation...
with a dash of humour, like...
'you might like to give this a try ... there's nothing stopping you'
(nudge, nudge)

a white liquid light
through the head into the crevices of the brain
down into the body
filling every vibrating molecule with
exquisite sweetness
scintillating divine light nectar
of which I had never known before
nourishing this material form.
A loving embrace - divine LIGHT pouring itself into 'me'
Every part of this body responded with delight
fell asleep.

Monday, March 15, 2021

Perfect Pulsing Silence...

 Perfect Pulsing Silence...
Utter Stillness...
Breath-giving Life...

This is what I come to sit for;
to sit in utter and complete Silence of Being -
the pulse of Life;
to feel and sense "The Silence;"
to feel its Aliveness,
to hear Its Song...

Sitting in the silence of not-knowing
puts one in a place of really listening,
with no agenda or expectation,
leaving the space open for "The Silence" to speak,
to calm the mind and
sing Its Song to the Heart...

I listen deeply for the Song of Silence...

A breeze touches my arm gently from the window
inviting me to be more acutely aware...

I gaze inward
to "The Silence" within
that is mirrored
in the silence of the night.
It's all the same Silence that infuses everything...

The Rhythm of Silence begins ~

I sit back in my chair
listening to the pulsing Silence
within and without,
feeling Its familiar Rhythm,
feeling the dance of intimacy begin again...

Nothing disturbs It,
Nothing disturbs the depth of It,
Nothing prevents Its Song
from being sung ~

In this intimate Silence I am reminded that
everything occurs within "The Silence";
all life, all breath, all death, all movement
occurs within this vast space of Silent Awareness
that we are...

In "The Silence" of Awareness
I know everything is living according to Its
natural order - is following Its natural order,
including this life I call mine...
All life is being lived
by the hush of "The Mystery"...

All is the pulse of the Great Silence ~
The pulse of Life ~

Mystic Meandering
Meditative Writings
May 2011


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Saturday, March 13, 2021

Pulsation of Life - Fred LaMotte

 The sign of life is pulsation. 'Spanda' in Sanskrit.
From Spanda comes our word 'expand.'  That which expands
must also contract, must pulse.  That which does not pulse
cannot play, cannot live.

Pulse is the nectar of creation, and the wine of health.  Atoms,
hearts, moments of time, cycles of history, worlds and
galaxies, all bubble up and dissolve as the pulse of the Infinite.
Music is the pulse of silence, dance is the pulse of stillness,
art is the pulse of the formless.  Spirit pulses into Matter.
Shiva pulses into Shakti.

If we are going to pulsate and live, we must not only know 
how to act, but how to rest; not only how to swell, but how
to empty; how to listen as well as speak; how to be dark as
well as radiant.

We learn to rest between the pulses.  Between our days. 
Between our moments.  Between our heartbeats.  And right
in the midst of busy lives, to be so vulnerable that we can
fall into the gaps and silences, coming Om even for an instant,
which could be an instant of eternity, as we let go of Doing to
sink into Being.

But we get stuck in the mind, do we not?  In dry abstractions,
brittle concepts.  Whether religious or political, is the same 
arid paralysis: lack of pulse.  Weak pulse is dis-ease. The
organic vibrancy of our body goes numb.  Confined to the 
cage of the intellect, we have no juice, and cannot feel the
kiss of God.

Ideology will never save the world.  Our world will be saved
by the call of a robin at dawn, the flavor of your grandmother's
mashed potatoes, the sting of dew on your bare feet.  Whatever
the question is, the answer is not an idea.  Nor will the answer
ever come as the conclusion of an argument.

The answer is returning to pulsation.  When you are stuck in the
mind, drop those inflexible concepts and come home to what
pulsates, the rhythm that softens and expands our heart.  This
life-giving pulse of Spanda need not be sensational or
dramatic.  It could be as gentle and intimate as your next breath.

Fred LaMotte


Photo - Mandala Art
Mystic Meandering

Thursday, March 11, 2021

Doors through which we pass - Thich Nhat Hanh

 This body is not me.
"I" am not limited by this body.
"I" am life without boundaries.
"I" have never been born,
and I have never died.

Look at the ocean and the sky filled with stars,
manifestations from my wondrous true mind.

Since before time, I have been free.
Birth and death are only doors through which we pass,
sacred thresholds on our journey.
Birth and death are a game of hide-and-seek.

So laugh with me,
hold my hand,
let us say good-bye,
say good-bye,
to meet again soon.

We meet today.
We will meet again tomorrow.
We will meet at the source...
We meet each other in all forms of life.

Thich Nhat Hanh

via - Death Deconstructed


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

The Present Darkness - Sutphen

 The present tragedy will eventually
turn into myth, and in the mist
of that later telling the bell tolling
now will be a symbol, or, at least,
a sign of something long since lost.

This will be another one of those
loose changes, the rearrangement of
hearts, just parts of old lives
patched together, gathered into
a dim constellation, small consolation...

Look, we will say, you can almost see
the outline there: her fingertips
touching his, the faint fusion
of two bodies breaking into light.

Original title - Naming the Stars


Photo Quote from tinybuddha.com

Monday, March 8, 2021

The Disguise...

 "She" - the Cosmic Primal Energy of all Life -
is hidden among us in the disguises She wears...

She" - the Primordial One,
Sometimes conceals Herself
Sometimes reveals Herself
through everyone as they are:
all expressions of Herself
in disguise...

Through this mystery we find
our way back to Who we are -
by simply being ourselves,
the Natural expression of ourselves...

And you recognize, at the core of your Being,
that you are Her - the Primordial One,
disguised in a body, playing yourself...

Mystic Meandering
March 7, 2021


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Saturday, March 6, 2021

Everywhere Veiled - Fakhruddin Iraqi

 Art by Joe Maccer at Deviant Art

Everywhere veiled
by Your own Face
You are hidden from the world
In Your very manifestation.
Look where I will
I see your Face alone;
in all those idols
I see only You.
Jealous lest You be recognized
at every instant
You dress your Beauty
in a different cloak.

Farkhruddin Iraqi
English version by William Chittick and
Peter Lamborn Wilson

with thanks to Ivan Granger at Poetry Chaikhana


Life is a Cosmic Play, the Divine playing hide and seek,
playing us.
"She" has many disguises...

Thursday, March 4, 2021

Rediscovering Myself - Derek Walcott

The time will come
when,with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here.  Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine.  Give Bread.  Give back your heart
to itself,
to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows your heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit.  Feast on your life.

Derek Walcott

Original title: Love After Love


Photo - me of me :)


Tuesday, March 2, 2021

Joy Returns - a little (maybe)

 I have recently experienced illness with a fever. 
During the night the fever broke, and I awoke
feeling lightness and Joy - if only for a few moments -
as I scurried to the bathroom and back to bed, excited
to be feeling Joy again :)  It lasted only a few moments,
but I felt relieved...

In my journal I wrote:

 the weight of illness,
 how heavy it is and how it
weighs you down,
like the dampening sound of a bell
 when struck - dampened by the weight of illness -

in this case a fever of unknown origin. I know that many 
have experienced this great weight of illness in the past year.

And yet - for a short moment
Joy breaks through
and sings from within the bell.

I am grateful knowing that Joy returns for
many of us - no matter what the illness, even if only a
little, for only a moment, and our bell begins to ring again...

Many Blessings



Don't try to find it in the future.  Joy is not hope.
Don't try to find it in the past.  Joy is not an ancient story.
And all our stories are ancient, even the tale of yesterday.
And please don't travel to a higher plane, an elevated state
of consciousness, in search of joy.  You will never find it
there, because joy is not a "state" to be gained - or lost.

Neither is joy a condition of circumstance, the good fortune
of some but not others.

Joy is what Existence is doing...

It glows from the Heart of Presence...

Does the light of joy descend from "above"?
No, it wells up like a tear from within.
Joy is the light already embedded in the darkness,
the fragrance of the void, the music in the hollow
of the bell not struck, the overflowing wealth earned
by not-doing.  If you need a reason for joy,
it isn't joy.

Fred LaMotte


Photo - Mystic Meandering

Sunday, February 28, 2021

Adi Shakti: The Primal Energy - Madhu

 The [Cosmic] Mother's magic is ancient as life itself.
She existed before Gods and mortals, and She will
still exist even after the great dissolution.  Mother is
pure energy in subtle form, but in times of need or
just out of the desire to play, she manifests.

The name Adi (or Adya) Shakti means 'primal power'
or 'primal energy.' She is the power or energy infusing
the whole existence.  She is the power, the power/energy/
force that permeates all creation, including the animate,
inanimate and divine.  She is the [energy] from which
the universe is created, and sustained, and She is what
everything will withdraw back into at the end of their

Shakti in the highest causal sense is God as Mother,
and in another sense it is the Universe that issues
from Her Womb.  She is the darkness from which
light issues, the unmanifest from which everything

She is no one particular form...but is generally
manifested in everything that we see in the universe,
including the life force that moves in it.  She is often
described as neither male or female, yet both male and
female at the same time - beyond descriptive categories
of male and female.

She IS everything...

including what we categorize as light and dark, creation
and destruction, good and bad, youth and senility, left
and right, inside and outside, physical and spiritual.  She
is the ultimate non-dual unbroken Reality.

She is pure Being-Consciousness-Bliss,
existing in the form of Time and Space,
and all that is therein, and is the radiant
Illuminatrix in all being...

From: The Primal Goddess Blog by Madhu
Fascinating blog!


Personal Note: Yes! I have felt this way for a long time...
The Hindus just give it a name... :)



Photo - Mystic Meandering