my whole Being
a live camera
with no film
to record or to remember
the thousands of trees
the vast dirt fields
the long-ago-fallen trees.
Sunlight sprinkles itself
over the surfaces of
No film to show
only my Body
the furrows of
the fields the gray
glow of our sun.
There is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us, for they are commissioned to guard us; and if we were dying in pain and shame, if scorn smote us on all sides, and hatred crushed us, angels see our tortures, recognize our innocence. — Charlotte Bronte
There is a kingdom of spirits that protects you. Do you not see them? –Charlotte Bronte
I wish I could see them—the spirits, the angels that surround us, waiting, longing to help us. I believe—with my mind—that there are such things; it’s consistent with the great saying God is Love which, I’m told, can be found in the gospel of John. I’m not a big follower of the bible, and I’m not a believer in the creeds of the world’s great religions. But I do believe in Divine Love—that It’s all around us, and available to us.
I can’t see the ‘angels’ that could easily be around me—around each of us—waiting to help us in our struggles, or perhaps wave some of that fairy dust off their wings onto our aching hearts—at least, most of the time I can’t see them. I’ll admit that sometimes I do have a sense of the Love around me. It’s just that it disappears so easily.
One night, I read something* about a prisoner during the holocaust who was in line with a group of men waiting to be taken to their death. In the midst of this horror, one of the men jumped out of line, offering to read the palms of other prisoners, exuberantly telling them of their future wives, their future children, of what seemed to be their extinguished possibilities. More and more of the prisoners asked to have their palms read. The mood changed, for both prisoners and guards—and against all odds, the unexpected happened: the guards loaded the prisoners back on the truck and drove away with them, taking them back to their barracks.
I wondered about what enabled that solitary palm-reader to act. The next morning as I awoke, a sentence came to me, and then more:
Please Let me also look at their palms and see their infinite possibilities!
And seeing them,
they glimpse themselves
As they really are!
Let us not be hypnotized
by modern day brutes
Let us look past all their dark thoughts
Let us turn again and again
beyond those dark clouds
to what is beyond their sight
Let us see our true pure being
and all our possibilities for Joy
Pull back our curtain of fear and disconnection
Open our ears to the truth of our being
Open our eyes to That Light
Not what they see
they do not define me!
I’ve listened to this intunement today—more than once, as there’s so much.
Kevin says that there’s a vast body of information available to us. And it’s accessible! Something rises up in me, and it says, Yes, that’s true! Somehow, I am very, very sure there is a vast-universal-awareness-of-knowing, and that we can know it.
Then he adds, And it’s not me making it happen. A lot of energy rises in me when I hear this. He’s sharing this from his Whole Self—like a grass fire that spreads, and awakens in me a memory.
And there’s so much more—he noticed he can awaken that in someone else—and it wasn’t just him doing it! Hearing that, this comes: There’s this flame in me, it receives from beyond-me, and it speaks.
It’s beginning to sink in—that I can form a relationship—a WE—with something in me. I’d been sitting with certain troubling sensations and thoughts recently and had begun to understand this more deeply.
I woke up the other morning with an uncomfortably dry mouth and it came to me: I can sit-with this! I’d been wishing this dry throat situation away for years, and now saw that I’d been missing an opportunity to be-with-it.
What follows below is what I wrote while it was happening. Two short sentences came to me. I sat up and wrote them. And then kept writing.
“I don’t look to you to disappear. I look to you to appear.”
I said/thought this to that place in me that is dry—thirsty to the point of having no more resources, completely dry and without what she desperately needs.