AWE/mirror of heart

The cosmos plays us with illusion: it mirrors and inverts perception to draw us towards light, truth, unity... We want it, but first we must survive. We get the metaphor, just an old upside down one, then we sit on the record scratch and bump bump into illusion like big sweet babies. Inversion is a somewhat kinder road for the real to be revealed. Can we cultivate love and trust for our beloved nemesis/selves over the lash. What is it in the eye that reverses all things so carefully? Where the eye sees out, it looks in. Only through our receptiveness to what is, does the "mystery " vaporize. There is a Mystic's Awe that Multiplies. We were made from stars, and our potential is to be a vehicle for the cosmos, but most of us are hallucinating a lot of the time... We often wear our tomb stone around our neck like an albatross: Here lies [IWM]. Die before you die. Die to broken thoughts. Imagination brings us closer to and further from the real. Is it creative or is it separating. If i was that blind, how blind am i Now? Enter into some kind of communication with a larger reality. Drop some veils-(not all, please)- of the imagination. We are naked, together, slave and free, yet were afraid of XTC. Love is the intention behind the intention. "Stay the same. Change." Who's voice is that? Loosen the tourniquet on your heart. Do a head stand to see something different, be a fool and let the blood of the heart fill your head. Just don't be stupid. Time IS love and love is what is passing. Also will the music of this breath and heart beat. Make your house your home before you fly away.
( first entries are at the bottom- with a different format bc im not that technical!)


one year

A year ago aug 2 we said goodbye, July 11 she sailed on. January 10th, 1970 she was born, three days after me in the same hospital. We met again 6 years later on the schoolyard.  I've said she was my twin. A year flies by strange without her.  Yet, she is constantly referenced, among those who understand the depth of her impact.  We tasted life with the zesty one, Miss Meredith.  Without her, tears run sweet with the aches of knowing her. Sorrow in missing her constant crack-ups, freaky funny and rare heart. Joy and sorrow together tastes good.  I'm forever humbled and moved to hug the earth when reminded I am amidst this brief awesome treasure that is always moving, always changing always going always creating. Missing Meredith reminds me I am alive, I'm reminded of her fire and see how sweet and short it all is.  If I think of her fierceness and what she would say, maybe I'll get off my ass and be a little braver, and a little more adventurous. I know she would say and give "kisses" before she hung up the phone.  Luckily, I hold her image as a perfect point of light in my heart.  I carry my Meredith everywhere.  To know someone and be known is how we come to know ourselves. Alhamduillah.  We do nothing and are nothing alone.