Category: Writer's Favorites

Color Love (Song - Lyrics and Video)

11/8/2018

Sound is the basis of all creation, and this bird has been singing as of late. I wrote this little song shortly after arriving in New Mexico in August. It's been reverberating in my soul ever since. And just weeks ago, I had the honor of singing it to my SoulCamp family at the end of a beautiful ayahuasca ceremony in the mountains outside of Sacramento. It's a moment I won't soon forget.

Color Love
There's a color, on my face
Been painted by the human race
Can you see it?
How would it taste,
If all the lines could be erased?

Tear down my form and
Forget my name
Silence this incessant brain.
For we are all a victim-slave
To memories of passing pain.

And there's a color, on your face
They say it's different but
We're the same.
Like the trees and the rocks and the stars above
All painted in the color love.

So brother, sister, mother child,
Remember that your soul is wild.
Dry your tears and
Raise your voice
And in the oneness of all life rejoice.

(Humming)

And there's a color, on my face.
Runs deeper than the human race
Once all the lines have
Been erased,
Together we can be the change.

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Resolutions For Evolution In 2018

1/1/2018

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What a blessing this year has been. Let us take a moment to sit with it, to breathe with it, to let our hearts beat with gratitude for all it has given us.

It brings me joy to see so many people giving thanks for this year full of life, full of deepening love, full of adventure, full of change and growth, full of challenges overcome. We are shifting, and 2017 was an exercise in divinity. A light is rising like the sun, guiding us into 2018. This is a time for reflection, as the full moon will look down upon itself in the waters of the world tonight. It is a time for setting intentions, to usher in a new year (if only on the 12:60 frequency that governs us now, but we won’t get into that) with purpose, with fire guiding our water flow. Now is the time to set the tone. Now is the time to be.

I began 2017 with a dear friend in Australia and the year that unfolded therefrom was the deepest and most transformative of my life. Sitting down with my journal to reflect on it, I was overcome with emotion, with thanks and awe at the fact that it was real life, that it was mine. I want to honor it, to acknowledge the profound change it has brought to my being, to my body, to my mind, to my heart and to all of my relationships. I want to acknowledge the sense of purpose that burns in me now like a little star, growing stronger with each deepening breath, fueling me for the journey forward.

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Unconditional Love

12/22/2017

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It’s here. It’s always been here. There’s no line of separation between those other dimensions and the one that I have always accepted as my reality. There is no separation of anything. That’s what she told me, and I knew it to be true. Trust. I trusted everything she said.
Time passes quickly; we leave it like a trail behind, this linear timeline. Past. Don’t turn around and look for it, you know it’s where you left it. Now, it’s here. It’s here now. You just have to access it. There’s a universe in you; find the opening. Dive inside and escape the lines that hold you like an image in a photograph, motionless, without a soul.
Go deeper than the mind and everything that identifies your outer shell. Forget your name for a while. Elevate beyond your previous level of “I” consciousness, and tap into the collective. Be the opening, ever-expanding. Break the walls of conditioning that have been laid, brick by brick, around your essence. Break through, erupting in the light of your being. A reflection of everything in existence, you are perfection.
If it’s always here, then she’s always here, and we are her. The great mother of all creation. The silent hum reverberating throughout all of existence. She holds us in the cradle of consciousness, in the energy of pure love. When we release our grasp on the pain and trauma that the mind identifies as the self, we free ourselves from the pressure of living as that character day in and day out, and we become what we really are. We are everything.
We are diamonds, all of the elements pressed together in the form of magnificent beings, radiating energy. As we wander further from the source this energy shifts and weakens. The mechanical mind takes over as we fall victim to the forces of conditioning. We forget, we disconnect, and we separate ourselves from everything. I, me, me versus you. Solitary, defensive, in constant competition with each “other.” We are a colony of ants who have lost their ability to communicate, attacking each other in chaos. We were meant to live as a collective. Tapped into the source and reveling in our oneness with all that is.
It’s here, and we can access it at any time. Any separation from source is self-inflicted. Be the opening and enter the true Self. Feel the ego holding on for dear life to all that should be let go of. Feel it, but do not let it take control. Acknowledge it, shine the light of consciousness on it and transcend. You are so much more. We are so much more. There is no line of separation between love and reality. “Everything that is not love will be taken from you.” Love is the energy that underlies everything. Unconditional love. It is where we come from. It is what we are.

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Hong Kong Poetry Flow-etry

8/17/2017

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Carry on, carry on -
There's no need for perfection
Where you're going
You can leave that bag behind.
Travel lightly as you travel blindly
Beyond the preconceived prisons
Of your mind's eye.
Those lies belong to a past life
But you and I -
We transcend the rigid contours
Of those black lines
Etched into white paper.
Evolved and enlightened,
First we are erasers
And then we are the makers,
The creators, the rearrangers,
Magical travelers of the cosmos
Guided by divinity, we are the lone rangers
The life tamers, the risk takers.
Only lost can we ever be found
Feet rooted in Earth,
Head floating in clouds.
Take a look around,
Take another breath in
And without a doubt in your heart
Carry on, carry on flying.

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Thank You, Treecher <3

2/25/2017

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Reflections from a long and powerful meditation on the waterfront in Queenstown, New Zealand.

A tree is the ultimate teacher in the practice of meditation. A tree spends its existence sitting in its own silence, even amidst the noise and chaos that surrounds it. In contact with the earth at all times, it excels at stillness, only its branches, like hair, blowing in the wind. It never ceases to breathe -- it exists to breathe -- taking in carbon dioxide and exhaling the oxygen that is required for our life. In this way, the tree exists in a state of giving, whatever the world requires for joy and life: oxygen, shade, shelter, wood, recreation.

It doesn't question its purpose on earth, to provide these things, It doesn't stop breathing, being. It doesn't open eyes to gaze out at the chaos with any sense of judgement. It sits, rooted in the earth, and breathes -- even when the bees swarm, the rain falls, the children climb, the young woman leans against its trunk to read. In silence, it sits and breathes, never ceasing its powerful meditation. In this stillness, this silence, it exudes life; it emits from it energy, smells, colors, soft rustling, fresh air, in which all those in witness rejoice. The tree is respected, revered, a subject of dreams and poetry, though it has never spoken a word. The tree will exist in this state of joyous nirvana until a power greater than it ends its life.

If you want to meditate but are struggling to find your own silence in the midst of life's chaos, try sitting beneath a tree. Gaze upon it and extend to it a thanks for its life-sustaining gifts and deep wisdom. And then join in its meditation, Close your eyes and breathe along with the tree, focusing on your constant exchange of oxygen for carbon dioxide, rejoicing in the symbiotic nature of your relationship -- the pattern of giving and receiving that underlies every moment of our lives. In contact with the earth, perhaps even the roots of this tree, sink deeper into this feeling of security. Feel as the breeze blows your hair along with the branches of the tree, or note how its absence leaves you both in total stillness. Embody the tree, with every sound and other reminder of the external chaos, sink deeper into your internal silence, your stillness. Know that, like the tree, you are a beautiful component of the landscape, emitting energy to any form of life that may surround you.

This is your purpose, and you fulfill it with ease. There is no need to open your eyes now, for in your internal stillness, you bear witness to the entire cosmos; you are the cosmos. In this knowing, you are filled with a sense of bliss and exist only to breathe. Oxygen in -- thanking the tree -- and carbon dioxide out, returning the gift of life. You have found balance, a state that always exists within you. You and the tree are one, mirrored parts of the same life force. You exist in this state of joyous nirvana for as long as you please. You are free, you are the tree.

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Sweet Enough

2/21/2017

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It that all it takes? One breath of this outside air, exhaled toward the rising horizon. To the blue on blue monsters from which I can't avert my eyes. Will they watch me while I'm sleeping? I can't go home now, the sky is leaking, and I sense the road is perilous, for one. Breakfast for one, lunch for one, table for two. The trees that line the beach build a home for my single occupation. Now everybody looks my way -- black on black as night, they watch me breathing, every inhale deepening, and say: Isn't that strange? Or nothing at all, it's always nothing at all. Drop my eyes to stones the color of sky and wonder how they got there. Pile them up and put the towers in my pockets, it keeps me on the ground. Not good for swimming, but I like the clacking sound as I skip around. Then? Moment after moment for me to fill with anything. Rest my eyes on the snowless peaks and wonder how it would feel to share them. Dinner for one, no dessert. The world is sweet as it is, any more would make my heart hurt.

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Man Versus Robot

2/17/2017

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This is a piece I wrote back in college. Rediscovered, tidied up and given some love! It's always been a story that I remembered writing but it's been many years since I've read it (9 years?!) I think it's one of my favorite pieces to this day. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy.

Donninger wore sunglasses as big as his head, bigger than his nose and elbows put together. It was like he was preparing for the sun to drop down from outer space to say hello, and he wanted to be able to look it in the eye when it did. The frames were silver, like the wings of an exotic bat and the lenses flashed blue then green then red as if they were reflecting the Christmas lights tacked to Jeffrey’s mother’s windows, the ones that lit up even in June and July.
It was July, in fact, on this day, when he wore his sunglasses, fly-like eyes scanning the beach for his beautiful babe. He knew he would find her here, because they were all beautiful in their strappy bathing suits and fresh skin, gleaming with oils and sprinkled with sea salt. But they weren’t all his, unfortunately. And it was his loss, not theirs, he knew this. They weren’t missing anything not having him in their lives, because there wasn’t much to him that one would like besides his big silver specks.
He didn’t have a real voice, and he didn’t have hairs on his chest. He gleamed in the sun, but it wasn’t oil on his skin, because he didn’t have skin either. He didn’t have a liver or toe nails. He had never experienced the strange sensation of vomiting, because he didn’t have a stomach and he didn’t eat. He never went to college, because he didn’t need to. All of the data he could ever want to know or need to know or could ever dream of knowing was born with him. Jeffrey had put it there.

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Day 11: Habits

8/12/2016

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Habits to Help You Get Out of Bed Easier in The Morning:

1. Open your eyes - One by one or both together, it’s up to you. Open them wide and exercise movement. Don’t forget to check in with your peripherals; this is often where the little, important things are hiding, affecting you from the sidelines, their very existence clandestine. Acknowledge everything.
2. Put on the kettle - Remind yourself you are getting ready to drink, from the overflowing cup of your life. Let this pull your blanket down from your chin, and then swing your legs to dangle off the edge of your bed. It’s ok if you need a little time to wake up. Think about the liquid you are about to ingest. The first swallow of the day. Whether you choose to drink water, coffee, tea or whiskey, remember that the choice is yours.
3. Wash your face - Cold water awakens your sensory preceptors. Let go of your compulsion that life should hold you like a warm bath, like your mother’s womb. Let the tap flow freely. Splash the water on your wide eyes; remove yesterday’s garbage. Relax your furrowed brow, leave your muscles free to smile. Embrace the change.
4. Oral Hygiene - What we don’t clear away will rot our mouths from the inside out. Get it out. Swirl the water around, through your teeth and across your sharp tongue and spit it out. Spit it out gently, don’t aim at somebody’s heart. But do not hold it in for fear of making a mess. You will choke on your own decay.
5. Gentle stretching - Easy as it is to lie still, to live we must move. There’s no need to push yourself into heavy exercise, this will lead to fatigue and injury, keeping you longer in bed. Feel your need for movement, and embrace it - slowly, at first, until you are limber and ready for bigger steps. Breathe in as you lengthen your limbs in any direction or manner that feels natural and good. Exhale your fatigue, your stagnancy, your memory. Bask in gratitude as you feel your body loosen and thirst for more movement. This is growth.
6. Get to work - Your work should lure you out of bed, call to you even before you have opened your eyes. If you see this step as a deterrent to rising from your slumber, you are in the wrong line of work. Write a task list that leaves you lusting for its content. Fill your days with challenges that energize your chakras. Do not read want ads on the internet. Sit in silence and flip through the pages of your gut. Shake loose the back issues of your soul, and collect the fragments of anything that falls from their pages. Cut and paste these treasures together into a collage of what your life will be. Get to it.

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Changing States

8/4/2016

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She drip-dropped
In slow-mo,
Like water from an icicle
Falling to the snow.
She rolled like honey
Along the walls of
Her clear, glass jar,
Until she swallowed
Herself whole.
Hours to days,
For eternities
She lay
In waiting for
Changes she was
Too afraid to face.

This was written in response to the Day 4 prompt from our August 2016 Writing Challenge. The prompt was "Changing States / Transformation."

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Bird Things (Popcorn Writing)

7/20/2016

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Annie turned the light off. Once underneath the black of night, the walls came alive with things, the likes of which she had never seen. Long necks, feathered beaks pecking at their own pale flesh; their legs, short and thick, were covered in spikes that rustled like trees in a stern breeze. They were animals, from some world other than her own.
She stood, still frozen, between her bed and the doorway, assessing both routes for a safe escape. The covers on her bed, she knew, were shields against the most harrowing of enemies (which, of course, these were.) But outside that doorway and a quick sprint down the hall, her father slept. Even in the darkness, he would protect her. Just like he had from the ghosts on Easter night and the giant bugs she swore and invaded her closet last fall. He wasn’t afraid of anything, ever. He didn’t even cry at the doctor. And he had to go there a lot.
Annie jumped - she heard something coming from the direction of her bed. Faint as it was, she heard it. And she ran, her legs weary with fear - out the door and down the hall, her feet slapping down onto carpet all the way.
   “Dad! Daddy!” she screamed for him like a firework bursting through the door. “Daddy, it’s…there’s something…dad!”
   She looked up from her father’s sleeping face to see her mother, sitting silent on the edge of the bed. Her eyes stared, blank as a doll’s, but they were glistening wet. Annie’s gut dropped from her body. A terrifying sensation took hold as she struggled for a breath. She tried to call to him one more time, to scream, “Wake up!” But she couldn’t, and she knew he couldn’t either.
   Who would save her now, she wondered, as she fell to the floor - the bird things, the ghosts, the snakes and the rats closing in all around her. Once again the lights went out, and Annie thought she might drown in the dark. She wanted to.

** Back posting after a long hiatus from the blog! This was a popcorn writing exercise with the Surat Warriors. Required words were: light, underneath, walls, flesh, breeze, between, escape, darkness, ghosts, faint, weary, silent, sensation,

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REFLECTIONS FROM THE SKY

Color Love (Song - Lyrics and Video)

Resolutions For Evolution In 2018

Unconditional Love

Hong Kong Poetry Flow-etry

Thank You, Treecher <3

Sweet Enough

Man Versus Robot

Day 11: Habits

Changing States

Bird Things (Popcorn Writing)

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​REFLECTIONS FROM THE SKY

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REFLECTIONS FROM THE SKY