182 Listen

Open. Listen. Let peace enter your heart.

Don’t listen to me, actually.  If there is anything I have learned in a half decade on this planet, it is that I seriously know very little.  Do I have wisdom to share?  Oh ya.  But is it pertinent to your journey?  One way or the other, it actually is.  But sometimes human information, human sharing, human thoughts can be the catalysts that move us in entirely the opposite direction.  So “don’t listen” to me. Go where led. Internally. 

For some reason, parenting comes to mind.  It is written that extreme parenting sends a child in the exact opposite direction.  A super Democrat might have a Republican child.  An extreme hunter/meat eater may sway offspring to be vegan.  And so on.  It’s reactive.  Mom and Dad had some ways of handling money that made the world complex.  I feel like my brothers and I swung the pendulum to the other side.  Naturally.  By growing up in a form of monetary chaos, we saw that we wanted something different.

To retreat into listening is about higher self, God, or whatever a person thinks keeps the planets in motion and the universe expanding.  Whatever that is. 

When Amber spoke of listening, one of her most glowing points was that we expect a certain kind of hearing.  We even expect a certain type of answer.  And the Eternal doesn’t work like that.  The Infinite is infinitely creative!

Perhaps you’ve found a theme, cleared up some internal and external space, surrendered a boat load of personal beliefs, and feel ready to listen.  No burning bushes.  No speaking angels.  No sun rays pointing out a beloved.  

The craziest methods unfold.  Vibration.  Intuition.  Dreams.  Art work.  Successes leading from one space to another.  Failures pushing away.  A subtle statement from family.  Repetition in what you see or hear.  A movie.  A breakthrough at work.  Inner knowing… The list is so long.  And it gets, hmm, odd… for those that can accept odd.

It helps to acknowledge that you want to hear from the advanced spaces.  It helps to work with, rather than against, the Eternal.  Some people do it so naturally that they are unaware.  

The library had a program on Henna art, back when the kids were teens.  I wanted everyone else to have the experience, so did not hurry into line.  The woman did my art work last.  She drew the symbology methodically, beautifully.  She talked about her expression.  

I stared at the work.  She had defined my life and my challenges and my growth with some quick strokes of henna.  Without any knowledge of “me”, she had allowed Spirit to speak directly to me.  

She was clueless.  I asked the right questions. And I didn’t divulge her gift.  But she was listening, doing her calling, giving incredible gifts to the receivers.  Oblivious.

Prayer and meditation are wonderful ways to open to listening.  Creating, doing a form of art, baking for expression, all open the inner ear to the Divine.  But the messages may be as obscure and silent as the wind, and may come whispering in when you don’t have a rosary in your hand.  Open.  Listen.  Let peace enter your heart.

179 Emergence and Grace. What Are You Working On?

Stepping into the world of an eleven day retreat, the first adventure was looking into what is calling me.  Scattered.  Completion.  Healing.  Those were not the words that popped out of my pen.  

Isolating down to two or three words sounds simple enough.  But soothing the monkey mind, that is not a simple task.  

Emergence.  Grace.  It boiled down to those two.  When I looked at them with scrutiny, I felt nervous.  Those are words that speak to either realm, the staying on the planet realm, or the moving on to other levels realm.

I don’t want to commit to dying soon.  

I don’t want to commit to NOT dying soon.  I’m trying to stay flexible… emergence, grace.  There is a Divine flexibility built into that focus, into those words.

I am on the last days of the fifth chemotherapy cycle; tomorrow begins cycle six.  It will be the third of the fall set.  On the weekend after the third spring cycle, my colon perforated, and an emergency surgery left me without several organs, and with a new ostomy.

This coming weekend will be an anniversary of sorts, my body repeating the experience of three sets of chemotherapy, and the ramifications.  Prayerfully, just a mental thing, something to live beyond.

Emergence. Grace.