vision

A proposed experiment:

Take a day,
the entire day
even just once,
block out sight
our strongest sense:

That which we have honed
cultivated
That which we use most to assess others
and take in the world,
at least initially,
That which has created a national obsession
of looking Good, looking Young
to satisfy and stimulate
the eyes of others
That which takes in beauty
aesthetics
art
The Most

Close the Shop of Sights
for a day
Pull down the blinds.
Do it guided by someone
or
unguided, alone

Spend the day in darkness....
And you will with clarity
"See" what you hear
"See" what you taste
"See" what you feel and touch
"See" that which you missed before.
Vision.

Next experiment:
Take a day,
the entire day
even just once,
block out voice

Close the Shop of Talk
for a day of Rest
refrain from speaking,
refrain from humming,
refrain from mouthing words.

Spend the day in silence....
And you will with clarity
understand how to listen
and to
"speak" what you hear
"speak" what you taste
"speak" what you feel and touch
"speak" that which you missed before.
Truth.

Next experiment:
Take a day,
the entire day
even just once,
block out taste
an overused sense

Close the Shop of Eat and Drink
for a day
you will live
Spend the day giving your organs a break.

refrain from putting a morsel in your mouth
refrain from imbibing liquid, just water
refrain from chewing or sucking

And you will with clarity,
"taste" what you eat,
"taste" what you feel,
"taste" what you hear,
"taste" what you see
Nourishment.

Next experiment:
Take a day,
the entire day
even just once,
block out .......
and you will with clarity.....
..............................

Some experiments
to get to Know:
what it's like to have not
what real have is
what the least cultivated sense is like:intuition, gut,
what C-o-n-n-e-c-t-i-o-n is
what Conscious-ness is.

Try it, just for FUN.

Happy Ending

Once upon One lifetime
a soul had returned to Earth:
Born unto this era
To a small family
who bestowed her with the name of Sentima.
Initially, in the very beginning of this life,
She knew her Purpose, her Place.
Bit by cumulative bit, this assuredness got erased.
She became full of strife,
A traveller she became; not really belonging,
circle in a square
heart stopped singing
that Ode to Joy,
Lost the lightness,
She longed for love, a need to be free,
To know fun and play,
Aching for answers,
that which soothed her soul.
All of this sent her seeking,
journeys took her onto foreign lands,
Always looking
to regain Happy
Adventures:
boldtentativejoylessexcitingriskysexypainfulunhealthfulexternalstimulatingsad.
along the way she occasionally bonded with other souls,
but she was not yet ready for reclaiming
that which was lost to her.
Until
ONE DAY
she found a key
the key to it all
She opened door after door,
and soon she found the security chest:
that which was locked for many years.
She turned her beautiful golden key to discover the treasure,
the Holy Grail............

That she was here to love.
With all her heart.
Self, everyOne, everyThing
Period.
Happy Ending
The Beginning.

Guide + Most memorable night

Oh Light

I know you are in there

Sometimes you are dim

Because I have shielded your brightness

Cast a veil over your face

In my clear moments, which I bask in ever more often

I feel the rays you cast through me, from deep inside me, into me,

I am a sieve for your beams

Reaching out of me, connecting,

Penetrating the darkness without which I would not have met you.

Dear Light

Reminding me of Source, Energy, Beauty,

One

I drift on your waves

Supported , guided

I Trust

I Surrender

I Open

I Know

Glad to have met you!

***********************************
And...submitting late for last week!

My most memorable Night:

Fifteen years ago
Three-thirty am.
Driving home from late night out.
Snow like down shaken from the fluffy pillows up there,
Filling a great big quilt spanning every surface.
One smooth sheet of white, no stitches between road, lawns, parks, sidewalks.
Still chill
Peace
Heading north along Yonge Street (one of the longest in the world), gliding downhill towards York Mills Ave.

Car wheels morphed into downhill skis: entire hill all to myself. No lanes. Sailing on silky terrain of powder white, mogul-free.
White spires for trees.
or
The scene morphed into my bedroom: my body rolling on my white as white bedspread, making angels.
Silky velvet robe laid out against purple black spread of sky
Buried my face in the soft light down.
White beeswax candles for trees
Illuminations by car headlights became the flickers cast by the candles on the walls of my room.

Whether skiing or rolling on my bedspread, I felt utter stillness in my bones
Hush quiet.
I owned the world. Or so I imagined.
Suddenly, something breaks the unending white:
Brown rabbit contentedly hopping on the puffy blanket, traversing my slope
I stop and watch the intruder. Mr. Rabbit stops to gauge his intruder.
Mutual recognition. Staring contest.
No-one else existed ‘cept me and Mr. Rabbit on the white blanket.
We were the universe.
Almost as quickly as he appeared, Mr. Rabbit nodded good-bye and disappeared behind the candle spires.
I was tempted to follow Mr. Rabbit; would have met Mr. Fox.
We three would have had a ceremonial dance in the circle of our white candles
Sacred dance in silent connection.