Walking Home

bird1I dropped my car off at the shop at 8:30 this morning.  I live within a walking distance of the auto shop, about 25 minutes.  Today is one of those pre-vernal-equinox days.  It tempts the mind to believing that it is spring.  The awakening inside is piqued and we lean towards longer, warmer days.  Those days when the bulbs burst into their flowers and we rise feeling renewed.

It’s so easy to hop into the car first thing to run errands.  Get where I want to go quickly, accomplish more things on that never-ending list.  Such a convenience.  Such an expediter.

It’s when I don’t have access to the car that I begin to really see what surrounds me.  And to discover that there are surprises in every front yard.  The wood-crafted alligator that guards the front patio.  The ornamental kale in barrels in front of the fusion food truck on the little boulevard.  The so soon crocuses, purple, yellow and white.  The Downy Woodpecker beats out his rhythm in the ancient cherry tree.  Then there’s the way the sun feels at this time of the day.  And the way the soft sunlight touches what I see.  Past the auto dealership…I’d like to be in the market for one of those jeeps…but not yet.  The spectacular vista of the mountain peeking through the low houses and buildings.

I pass a rare few people on foot and the greeting is always to “Have a nice day.”
What is it about this time of day that enlivens the sleepy soul?  What is it that makes you glad to be alive and renews optimism?  I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have experienced it if I’d been in the car, in a rush, not in the present moment.

Not to make it all glamorous.  Walking home from the mechanics on a winter’s day with snow and ice on the ground is not a picnic.  At each street corner, there is an indefinable slush puddle.  It could be deep enough to seep over your boottops.  Then the walking home is more of a survival exploit.  I find myself looking down and then out, down and then out.  I don’t see much of the scenery as the focus is not to slip and fall.  Regardless, I allow this adventure on occasion too…a test of my mettle?

All of this to say, take a walk in the morning when you have an opportunity, or make one.  See what you notice that you might have missed had you not been on foot.

And, “Have a nice day.”

 

Awakening Beside the Stream of Consciousness

So, is there a stream of consciousness, of awakening?  Would all who sat beside it or sipped from it become enlightened?  Could it be that easy?

The mystic poets, i.e. Rumi, Hafiz, Lalla, Gibran, Blake, Miribai and more, appear to have drunk from the stream of consciousness.

I wonder what has to be surrendered in order to sip this divine nectar?  Any ideas?

Rumi says:
“There is only one sunrise a day.
In  your sleep you see many shapes and people.
When you wake, you see nothing.
Close those eyes and open these eyes.”

Realistically, can you do that…see through your dreamer’s eyes?  At least some of the time?

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This one rings true because I’ve had some experience with it and I have talked with others who practice gratitude.  Even in troubled times, they look for something to be grateful for.

from Rumi (again):
“Flying toward thankfulness, you become
the rare bird with one wing made of fear,
and one of hope. “

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I also appreciate this poem by Hafiz.

Absolutely Clear
Don’t surrender your loneliness
So quickly.
Let it cut more deep.

Let it ferment and season you
As few human
Or even divine ingredients can.

Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft,
My voice
So tender,

My need of God
absolutely
Clear.

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Have you thought of loneliness as a doorway to the divine?  I’ve had the experience of being deeply with my loneliness.  And then, slipping into the place of reflecting on the loneliness that is pervasive across our planet.  A connection was then established with all who experience loneliness.  I was less alone.IMG_9970.jpg

Writing Prompt:
What’s it like for you when you visit this deeper Stream of Consciousness (Awakening)?
Tell me…don’t be shy.  We’re more connected than we realize.