Not Now

Looking through my journal for some notes, I came across this little piece I wrote a few months ago. It speaks of the experience of contraction after expansion. After the Ecstasy, the Laundry, as Jack Kornfield put it.

 

Not Now

The dawn was grey and unpromising

Another one like so many before

Heavy was the first wave of weariness and with pain fast on its heels, it crashed once more onto my heart.

How much more I wondered.

How much more before I can take no more?

 

Following my plan for the morning, I went about my business not allowing complete despair to root in me again.

Reminding myself of that which I knew; it’s okay, just be with it, I sang to alieve the pain of dread. Could I ever hope that the shift would last?

Or am I doomed to be teased by Clearsight only to have it snatched away overnight?

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Let It End

Woman, you bleed from a thousand cuts,

your life blood draining away.

Cease now this tragic waste, this martyr’s sacrifice,

come into yourself,

close all the doors,

save your wisdom, let it mature within.

Fear not, it will birth of itself and you will be re-born.

Wisdom is your child,

you’ve been lied to – this is not the way to heal!

Let it end here now,

do not carry this forward.

End this insanity now, let it not continue one moment longer.

This is what you came here to do,

to end this insanity, this pointless suffering,

it is not brave, it is not noble,

it is insane.

This insanity is not your design, not your truth.

Let it be done with now.

 

© Lynn Paterson 2016

For Her

For Her

I cry for the little girl who was rejected.

I cry for the child who was ignored, and for the baby who wasn’t loved,
Deeply I grieve for her – she, who was never told she was enough, more than enough.

That time after time the message has been you are not good enough, you are not enough,

For what love there was did not include her.

Never was she completely seen for what she is – and Her veiled appearance became her personality,

Too many times he only saw his reflection bouncing back to him; he did not allow himself to see Her,
And so the parts unseen in her could only reflect himself,
No wonder he cannot love Her, for he can only see himself.

Is it possible to love her for who and what she is?
Not to approve of her,
To be acknowledged for who and what she is, not for approval, not for acclaim,
For Her.

© Lynn Paterson 2016

Song to the Elementals

Water, body of life,

Life of my body,

Love me,

Now.

Distil me,

Do not stop until the well runs dry.

Wait for me at the gates of the eternal moment,

Until I am ready to remember.

I love you,

Earth water, love me,

Love me well, forever now in this moment, until I remember you.

 

Matter, body of life,

Life of my body,

Elementally yours forever now my love.

I remember,

Earth body,

Body of earth,

I love you.

Light in dark places,

Dark matter,

Coming soon.

 

Fire, of my heart,

Heart, of the fire,

I love you.

Burn me brazen love,

In passion that scorches,

With a glance that destroys,

Every thing.

Burnt ashes, cinders,

Blow in the wind,

Love me Spirit Fire,

Exhaust my love.

 

Breath of my soul,

A living breath,

Sacred contract, The Bridge.

Dear soul,

I love you.

Wisp of Self,

Drawn together from all time and space,

Blown together now,

Pulsating Earth breath,

Love me. Remind me.

 

It is right

That all that is left

May not be known

Only experienced

Intangible

Ineffable

Much sought after

Never found

Hidden in plain sight

Uncovered

Realised

The unbounded

I Am

 

© Lynn Paterson 2016

 

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The Spectre of Grief

This I wrote 1.5 years ago.  ‘Tis only now that I can share it… and it still feels a little too much too share even now…but here goes.

 

The Day

The terror of a thousand dark nights of the soul compressed into one terrifying moment.

Then another and another…

Anguish ripping the fabric of my reality, tearing my world apart.

Unravelling in seconds what took years to construct.

 

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The Next Day

Hard to believe that yesterday was the worst day of my life. So far at least … for today soul has resurfaced its eternal optimism of Being, impressing upon my fallen heroes a new will to survive, a new adventure to be had and shared … and then,

Dark despair arises, sheer terror once more as all the monsters and demons I once believed slain are resurrected in their splendid horror.

Shame floods my body in honour of some long forgotten, if ever known memory and the spectre of grief is wearing my face once more.

Another moment, unaware, happy and engaged, is dashed as I remember I’ve lost him – the story has changed…

I puzzle at the swift change from happiness to despair – what does this despair rest its case on I wonder?

 

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reflections of the soul by charley celis

The Wild Love of Spirit

~~~~ feel ~~~~

The wild oscillations occurring in my heart refuse to be tamed;

The Wild Love of Spirit ignites a flame that cannot be contained nor defined by intellect alone.

I soar with Spirit and scream with the Goddess.

My heart breaks open easily.

Tears fall freely as every moment brings me more Love, more compassion, more awareness.

I have tasted ecstasy and have known myself as Love too many times now to return to the limitations of the mind.

I have seen the face of the Beloved and will not settle for less.

Ecstasy Of St.Teresa - Staglieno Cemetery in Genoa, Italy

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bELoved I Am

“Beloved I Am, touch me with your passion, ignite the flame of Love within me! Leave nothing untouched! Unravel me completely.”

“Oh sweet emptiness how I yearn for you! To discover with the secrets of eternity is joy itself! Be with me now my Love for I Am nothing without your desire to know me.”

“Ah Spirit, be upon me now like no other time! Ravish me, explore every atom of my existence and leave no space unvisited. Discover in me the joy of Being.”

Spiraling through space undoing and redoing myself, unmaking and remaking myself. There is nothing here to stop me. Unravelling myself, swirling and coming together again anew … a cosmic dance of Love; Spirit unknowing in one moment … knowing in the next, dancing here, dancing there, dancing every where.

Separate circles … not spirals. Bands, circles, rings – they constrict and bind. Concentric circles around the self…

The eternal Now moment found within the deepest of Self knows no bounds.

She said “Your prison is a self-made construction of the mind. It is not hard to find those who wish to help you build and maintain it, for the wages of sin may be irresistible.”

An emptiness bestows itself upon me; there is a bleakness about it, yet joy can be pulled up by a thread from this void.

To know yourself you have to turn yourself inside out.

Consciousness invading me, swarming over every part of me, nothing is left of me. A mass movement, a movement of mass. Consciousness leaving no stone unturned, no thing can stand in its way as it swarms over and through, devouring, consuming everything in its path, its wake leaving me shattered, broken apart and undone every sense I have, no sense of ‘me’ is left in this moment; I Am dissolved in the sea of consciousness.

 

            Something is stirring my molecules. Something is stirring them back together…

            But wait! Out of the corner of my ‘I’ a small silver fish appears. The silver fish of consciousness is back.

 

 

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