Give up that need

Image from Lucy's album

We want, need that person to be perfect and we are jolted, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, psychologically, when we discover something about that person that does not sit right with what we have understood to be their message, their thesis, their philosophy, their spirituality. 

We are jolted, disappointed and discouraged, yet again.  We have so wanted to believe that s/he was the true one, the one whom we could finally trust, who had all the answers to all the difficult questions in life. 

But then we discover some little quirk in their character, some flaw in their thinking perhaps, some indiscretion in their personal lives, some action or practice that they perform that seems to contradict their philosophy.  Well, it certainly seems to contradict our perception of their philosophy. 

And we feel let down, yet again.  It reinforces our belief that the world cannot be trusted.  That the world is inherently untrustworthy.  That we are, as we had judiciously suspected all along, random beings expected to make our own random way through this hostile cosmic ocean of biased probabilities, biased against our wellbeing. 

We are, after all, not meant to live freely and joyously.  Haven’t we noticed that the world has been trying to tell us this all along? 

I mean, just look around you and you will see so much suffering.  Just about every other person you meet has or knows someone with cancer.  Or diabetes or heart disease or Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s.  Or a fatal accident.  Or the destitution in Somalia or the corruption in Libya or the terrorism in Afghanistan or…

Take your pick.  It isn’t hard to find something that smacks of suffering.  It’s right on the doorstep of your conscious mind swirling in the vast space of your subconscious mind. 

This leaves you lost, abandoned, yet again.  It was foolish of you to have hoped for that perfect being.  It was foolish of you to have trusted.  It was foolish of you to have let yourself believe all the things s/he said. 

Yes, it all sounded so right, so good.  It struck a very deep and personal chord in your heart which rang truth.  How could you have been so wrong?  So misguided?  So easily led and deceived?  So certain? 

You’re no fool.  You’re more than intelligent.  Heck, you’re even considered wise by many.  How the hell did this happen?  How did you allow it?

This has taught you not to trust anyone.  Anyone. 

But if you feel that there is someone you can trust, then for god’s sake, trust them but don’t rely on them.

That’s right.  There is a difference between trusting and relying.  Sure, go ahead, believe what they say.  After all, it feels good, doesn’t it?  But don’t, for god’s sake, rely on them. 

They’ve got their own lives to live.  They may not be able to rush out and haul you in when you’re drowning.  That’s just how things are.  That’s life.  It’s not their fault.  They were perfect, up to a point. 

So what do you do?  You learn to rely on your Self.  That Self that underlies  you/her/him, your perceptions of yourself and of her/him.  You become acquainted with that Self.  After all, wasn’t that what s/he was helping you do? 

So carry on the work.  That’s something that you’ve not lost.  It’s always there.  It’s always been there and always will be. 

And realize that that Self has always been calling you to itself, through him, through her, through you, through everything that you experience. 

Don’t expect words of consolation from me.  I have few enough for myself.  Find your own. 

Better yet, don’t need to be consoled.  Give up that need.  In its place, think freedom.  You’re free to think a new thought, a new desire, a new expectation, a new dream.

Better yet, don’t think.  Just move in the flow.  It’ll take you to unknown places. 

Wouldn’t that be amazing?  To be free of the known and free to enjoy the unknown?

Overstayed his welcome

Image from Lucy's album

And now I fear
Optimism has overstayed his welcome

You must surely know
that I have budgeted this week for no more than
two days of
fearless expectations and
three nights of peaceful sleep

that's all I can afford
with my usual stipend of recurring thoughts and
recycled emotions

So I'll help you pack your bags
and wish you a safe journey to
wherever you're bound
for I really must return to my
usual mindset
It's all I can afford, you understand

Longings Enchantments and Sacred Spaces

Image by Lucy: Mt Glorious one late Afternoon

I slumbered

and while I did

my soul went wandering

It seemed to think

that it had been trapped

inside some strange body and preposterous mind

Even though I stirred

every now and again from my intoxicating slumber

urging it to return home

it paid no heed

Like a joyous pup

somehow unhooked from its leash

it tore away, never once looking back

Such was its glee and reckless abandon

Oh, do come back you silly thing!

It never heard me

or if it did, it paid no heed

But in the cosmic winds that 

somehow seeped through the 

curtains of my slumbering consciousness

I heard the sweetest melody

upon which these words gently tumbled:

'Longings, Enchantments and Sacred Spaces

are where I'll find God's divine graces!'

To disappear with you

Gossamer thoughts
lifting off
arising from
the formless pits
of consciousness

A thread
lands
somewhere
causing a tremor
across the landscape
I've learned to call
Me

Did you feel it...
too?
Have we touched
without...
reaching out?
Kissed
without...
trembling?
Merged
without ever
leaving
this sanctuary
of unspoken
love?

Even in this
gossamer moment
Eternity waits
while I turn off
the stars
and roll up the
oceans
to disappear
with you
in a place
called
heaven

Instead of wondering

Images from Lucy's album

I have this desire to capture my thoughts and feelings as they arise in moments of experience here in the country of my birth, in the town where I grew up, among the people – family and friends – that were an integral part of my life for the first 19 years of my life in this physical form.

I so want to hold these moments to the light of awareness and ask questions such as:

Who was I then?
How did I really feel then?
What did I really think then?
Who is asking these questions now?
Why does she want to know?
How did this event shape me? What did it leave in me? What did it create? What did it destroy?

I want to know where all the fragments of that moment are. Where did they disperse? Where did they collect? Who has them? Will I ever get all the bits together again? What would that feel like? Will it be momentous? Will I be frightened by it or encouraged?

I know I shall not pine for it but there is a certain nostalgia that I cannot seem to shake off. Why?

I sometimes feel like I am an observer, quite apart from who I was, looking into the times of my past, transfixed. I feel somewhat disconnected though not completely.

It is an odd, sweet, musty, haunting, slightly disturbing feeling. There is so much of my past that was painful for me or at least that is what I mostly feel about the past.

Yes, there were joyous moments, triumphant moments, moments of childhood abandon and teenage thrills but they are overshadowed by traumatic episodes, so frequent and so terrifying and that never seemed to end.

I cannot be certain that the past is no longer with me. If anything, these oddly nostalgic moments persuade me that I have never fully left the past and this can be disconcerting at times.

I wonder if I shall always feel this way? I wonder if there will come a time when I will no longer feel this tug of emotions to my past?

Ah Lucy, you surprise yourself though not me! You do know, of course, that you decide exactly what your experiences will be, exactly what will happen to you. So, why wonder? Unless, of course, you are not yet ready to choose? Is that what this is about?

Yes, I am sure that’s exactly what this is about.

There’s one thing about making choices, Lucy. You don’t have to do them straightaway. There’s nothing wrong with not being ready.

That’s true but sometimes, the delay is more debilitating than energizing and so, for that reason, I realize that I’d rather make the decision sooner than later. Not always, but increasingly so.

After all, it is fear that prevents me from making the decision. Fear that:

I might make the wrong one
That I’m forever bound by it
That I will never be able to reverse it or make a different one

Yes, Lucy, it’s always fear of one form or another. But, you are well and truly on your way to recognizing fear in its many forms, even the more subtle forms. That is your awareness.

Shall we learn again the language of love?

 Image from http://price.baltiblogs.com

We watch time
We fill the spaces in between
with attention to random thoughts


Some take us back 
to the early years
when we commenced our
walking journey

Some refresh the memory
with recent history

But always 
there are feelings
that rock the thoughts
captured by attention


Who knows what goes on in the minds
of those who do not speak?

We rely on spoken language for clues
We rely on behaviors too
But most of all, and increasingly,
we rely on words

They provide us with shortcuts.

not always reliable

often distorting or hiding
unspoken messages

We must learn again
to communicate
without words
in the silent, dynamic language of
gazes into
and away
of 
advances 
and retreats
of
postures
and gestures
of 
contact
and avoidance
so that,

when once again, 
we employ words
they shall be
of
great wisdom
great awareness
great patience
great accuracy
for we will have gained
some mastery over
Attentiveness - 
the language of love

Imagine every joyous desire this season and it is yours

Imagine…

Peace in your heart
Joy in your spirit
Love in every thought, word and deed…
Imagine it…
Intend it…
Allow it…
And so it is…

Dear Friend

May you feel the presence of angels
Around you at all times
May you hear their sweet singing
Upon the tinkling of their harps
May you rest softly in their arms
And soar high upon their wings
May their good tidings remind you
That you are blessed now and always
May this Christmas be a time of
Wonder, Hope and Faith that now
And in the year to come,
And in every moment
You are in Love’s inescapable presence!
Blessings of Joy, Abundance, Power and Peace!

Love always,
Lucy

Love, devotion and surrender

He pierces my soul, with tenderness - a sublimation. I’m lost deep in the womb of my eternal birth where all emotions are laid bare, plumbed, a willing victim of healing rape.

Why? How does he do this? I can no longer distinguish the man from his music. I’ve listened to him for decades now and still he penetrates me like no other. Ah, perhaps one other – the solitude of an adagio.

But it’s neither slowness nor solitude in his music that overpowers me, for although there are periods of both, there are also movements of searing speed that tear after impossibly long sustained notes of ecstasy - permitting an unparalleled climactic release.

How does it do me? How am I done? If I only knew!

I find myself, once more, delivered to unknown places, spent like a woman made love to over and over again. Her lover, of angelic descent, it would seem - tender, powerful, knowing, impeccable with timing, fulfilling in every way and unforgettable.

But look for ‘him’, and he’s not there! It’s not that he’s left, it’s simply that he wasn’t ever there.

And I? I haven’t the faintest and for many, long years, it never mattered.

Why does it now?

Perhaps because the angel’s light has finally coaxed open my sleeping eyes and lifted me from my love-worn stupor. Perhaps I am now finally ready to rise into the light.

With love, devotion and surrender.

Sleep now your final sleep

 Image at

Sleep now your final sleep
It's finished
this long journey
which never really began
and cannot ever end
yet, for now, drops you off
at heaven's door

The angels are waiting
their harps
softly tinkling
their wings
spread wide
to shield you, just briefly,
from love's blinding light


You'll happily rest
in their safe embrace
and watch with eyes closed
the celebration
of your return
leaving your smile
in tomorrow's rainbow

So, my love
sleep your final sleep
for I am at last ready
to say goodbye     

When it all gets too much, write a poem

Original image distorted by Lucy

Huh!
You thought it would be easy!
After all, wasn't your brain firing off
in a trillion different places just then?
Wasn't emotion surging through you
like a hurricane through Florida?
But now, sitting as you do,
at your keyboard
the ghosts have vacated
the brain has frozen
the s-urge is no more!
And all that's left
is a sickening suspense
a diary of unfinished thoughts
a mausoleum of hidden decay
an unresolved tragedy
a gaping wound
with no chance of healing.
Huh!

Go home!
It's all over
for now
Settle yourself
Find something else
to do
You should know by now
it's all over
long, long before
you realize.

Forget my advice
When it all gets too much
curse loudly into the wind
The ghosts will pick it up
and torment someone else instead
We hope.

Just don't
don't write a poem
Don't consecrate
the sacrilege
with your ritual of
fine words and provoking metaphors
Such symbols are wasted
in the wasteland of phantom emotions

Oh, but what the hell
If you must
then write
write a poem
when it all gets too much.

(Not) A weather report

Image from Lucy's album

My attention is torn from my writing
by the sudden, raucous rustling of leaves
in the high, sprawling branches of the fig trees
unfurling noisily in blasts of wind
like waves
in a grumbling ocean
whose roar grows very loud
then recedes into
disquieting periods of
quiet

They are lusty and strong, these leaves
Spring's latest and uncontrolled litter
Thrusting upward and spread flat
Harvesting sunlight to fuel
organic factories

We have a mutual respect, I think,
for each other
though not necessarily, mutual
benefit
I cannot help but think that I have
given them little
while they have given me
so much more

Only now can I truthfully say

Image from Lucy's album

You cut the cord of conditional love
by leaving.
I tried desperately to repair it –
Tears, pleas, remonstrations, messages, silence
A pitiful ensemble of self-inflicted pain
and, fortunately,
impotent

Meanwhile, the stream flowed
as steady as ever
unperturbed
like a sleeping
babe

I sat by it
days and nights
wondering at its constancy
its unremarkable magic
of being shaped by the land around it
yet wearing it away
and every stone or boulder in its course,
eventually

Such, I realized, is the nature of
unconditional love
Indeed, there is no other love
for that is love’s quality -
unconditional

And like the stream -
constant
and like its unremarkable magic -
unstoppable
And like the love I’ve now discovered -
free, limitless and without
need

Only now can I truthfully say:
I love you.

For what it's worth

For what it's worth
my arms are open
my heart is warm
my thoughts are loving

For what it's worth
my breathing is gentle
my eyes see goodness
my steps are chosen with care

For what it's worth
I'd rather leave this earth
having sought only peace, joy, goodness and freedom

For what it's worth
I'm still discovering
my uncaused, infinite, imperishable worth.

And what about you?

Unexpectedly

Image from Lucy's album

Dusty sienna
sweeping across my backyard
menacingly
a cosmic sneeze
poised to
erupt

The glow
burns its way
into an unexpected
memory

I look on
a reluctant voyeur
eager to return
to my vague
Now

But the sweetness
Oh where does it come from?
It trails me
like honey
unable to leave
the spoon that's
scooped it

I breathe in
the air of
Now
feeling its
eternal age
upon my
wondering
breasts

It's familiar
this unseen dust
Its message
portent

I return
assured
Now is
all there is.

Eruption

Image from Blogspan

T   o   u    c    h................ ing
S  o  f   t.......... ly
M    o   v   e.................... ing
S     l      o      w......... ly

Erupting

Exploding

The
shock

Excited,
molecules
scatter
unpredictably
across the sense-scape
of my
human-ness

Do the angels in heaven tremble
like I do?
Do they shimmer in radiant dust clouds
of ecstasy
like I do?
Do they feel, like I do,
that the world has finally ended
while I
have
finally
begun?

In a world

Self-Portrait
(Click here to listen to me singing this)

In a world
A world of our creation
In a world
Of our imagination
You will see
what you have
learned to see
You will feel
what you have learned to feel

Can you see
nature's startling beauty
Can you feel
her moving mist of peace
It's up to you
to reach for higher things
It's up to you
to seek for meaning
'Cos it's a world
A world of your creation
It's a world
of your imagination

Part the clouds
and touch the sky
Always there
and reaching high
Shake the dust
from off your feet
For underneath drums
Love's constant beat

In a world
A world of wild enchantment
In a world
Of sweet intoxication
Poets roam
sometimes in desolation
The lost come home
from numbing isolation
'Cos it's a world
A world of their creation
Yes, it's a world
Of their imagination

Part the clouds
and touch the sky
Always there
and reaching high
Shake the dust
from off your feet
For underneath drums
Love's constant beat

It's a world
A world of our creation
It's a world
Of our imagination...
Of sweet intoxication...
You create...your world
You create...your world

Copyright 2009 Lucy Lopez

The Conscious Mind

Image from Flickr

How I wish
that I could
set myself to
Happiness
and remain there
forever

How I wish
that the dancing light of
Joy
moved into
every dark corner
leaving no room
for hurt, fear
and despair

How I wish
that the ocean of
Freedom
engulfed me
dissolving me
in its
unstoppable waves

How I wish
that every breath of mine
was a breath of
pure Love
filling me with the
complete goodness
of Life

But most of all
how I wish
for the
conscious mind of
Awareness
so that none of these
are hidden from me.

Between the long shadows

Image

Between the
long shadows
of the slipping sun
the spirit of
unspoken sorrows
hovers
trapped in its own
confusion
unable to tell
formless fact
from
fleeting fiction
Ducking and diving
it makes
hollow proclamations
of love
understanding neither
its entreaties
nor its
intent
yet knowing
beyond its own
shadows of doubt
the scourge
of its
endless exile.

Your radiant love!

Radiance by Brent Boechler at bau-xi

I want to
float
unimpeded
on an
imperturbable
bed of
silken, shimmering
ocean
traveling forever
in your
timeless, endlessness

I want to
soar
weightless
through
frictionless
air
charged
by the
radiance
of your
love

I want to
be
shattered
into
iridescence
seen only
by
the unseen eye
of
truth

I want to
be
the glow, the glint, the gleam
that remains
when all else
congeals
into
dim abstraction
The spark
in your
radiant love!