Wednesday, February 8, 2012

How we love...


The Beloved wears your face
in a waking moment
opening my mouth gently,
breathing in desire;

A longing in the belly,
and a spiraling movement of heart,
awakening a depth within
the center
unknown even to itself.

'Oh god' floats on the released throaty breath,
Adoring eyes watch, and feel and know.

This is how we love into and through
the Other.
This fragile, imperfect honoring
reaches depths and unlocks doorways
into Bliss.

It beckons like a crooked finger--
Urging, insistent,
Come with me.


Saturday, January 28, 2012

Surrender

photo-- Dana Levy-Wendt

When you are crying, cry.
When you are flailing, flail.
When you are lost, sit and be still.
When you are in a tempest, let go.
Don't let anyone tell you how; you already know.

You can only be where you are.
So be there,
In the best way you know how.
That is enough, for now.

There will be a candle lit,
for when you find your way home.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Medicine for the Heart

Mexican spiritual heart with angel wings © Miroslaw Oslizlo

The heart in its wisdom
leads us;
At times with a gentle nudge
or with a bit and reins.

Nothing you've done
has led to this.

This isn't about the 'you' that does.
It's about the 'you' that IS.

No one is always happy.
Look at the false smiles
and desperate busyness
all around you.
So many others,
forlorn of simple kindness
and attention; "SEE ME!"
They hide the lie
even from themselves.

Medicine for the heart
can wear a thousand faces.

The heart of stone and water
knows this truth,
in its cold, still deep.

The heart of fire and wind
knows this,
whipped into frenzy
at the merest touch.

The heart within you
knows this, as well
and wishes to share a secret--

There is a gift to being contented
with one's life...
even with hell outside
the door,
and a raging storm within.

Your heart,
an ever-shifting cauldron
of movement and yearning,
calls you home
in every moment.
If only you will be still, and listen.

Can you hear the fluttering of its wings?

Sunday, October 30, 2011

A message from the elements and the season of the Crone

It occurred to me today that in an age of reason we have scrubbed passion from our seasons. Particularly the Spring and Fall. In the seasons where a blowing wind is likely to redden cheeks, and the trees themselves are vying for our notice with new budding leaves, berries and flowers, or brilliant colors that remind us that even death has great beauty, we seem to only wish for mild temps and pleasant, sunny skies, without exception. We have forgotten that beauty also has passion and depth, a creative purpose that can rage until sated.

Maybe this comes to me as inspiration because I adore Autumn. Maybe because I, who rarely ever complains of any weather event, suffered my own great lack of appreciation for what I termed an "unseasonable" snow storm. It cancelled Halloween events, and my last client of the day. It forced me to drive with extreme caution, and most of all, to slow down. No gratitude on my part for all that nasty weather. No way.

And yet yesterday as I worked, I watched the gorgeous giant flakes be driven nearly sideways by a fierce wind, and listened intently (after my music mysteriously quite working) to the pelting of sleet on the tin roof and windows. As I was walking into the house hours later, the wind whipped through the trees a few doors away, and shook snow from it as if the Cailleach (kal-yuk) herself were waking from a long slumber.

And I took it in. I felt it all move through me, this unusual storm; cleansing, passionate, fierce and full of trickster energy. It was sticking it's tongue out at us, and wiggling fingers in non-existent ears saying, "See? You don't control me. If I want to rage and tear down limbs, hurl snow, sleet and rain to force you to SEE and notice, to slow down and pay attention, then I will do as I please. This is my time to create or tear down as is needed, though you may have forgotten."

Yesterday's storm here in the middle of the NE coast was nothing if not filled with passion and raw, primal power. Something already very present within seasons not everyone in the US is lucky enough to experience. We have 4 full seasons, though many of us in this area spend lots of time complaining we don't 'like' the weather during at least 2 of them.

With this storm, we were presented with a passionate yet icy expression of the Feminine crone energy; fierce, beautiful, intense. Just like her to strip away the illusion of control, and to make everyone aware of the areas of their lives where they fail to honor time, nature, loved ones-- the things in our life that are truly important.

Reasoning away passion is something it seems we've grown far to used to in our world. Not just within the seasonal expressions of nature, but within our relationships with others. We even do it within the many spiritual containers, as if stillness and peace could exist in a never-ending stream, without movement, intensity, passion and growth. Why is that? Who sees peace as truth, and yet denies the value of the more difficult states this arises from?

We adore speaking of love, and yet deny it's full expression; thinking somehow that if we control conditions, everything will remain pleasant, sunny and 75 degrees. I think we may well see the fallacy of this, and yet we also wish to deny the passionate expression of love in it's full, raging beauty. Rage can rip the veils from our eyes, as it contains a huge amount of power and life force. It is when that rage is misdirected to hurt others, or we have memories we are personally tied to of people using rage to gain power over us that we balk. But we all contain this power, life force, raging beauty, blinding intention, fierce love. What would be amazing would be to begin honoring it and allowing it some compassionate expression, rather than suppression and minimizing how this looks and feels when our own discomfort gets in the way.

This is the lesson of the Cailleach/Crone Mother of Autumn-- being present to death requires both great passion, compassion and fierce love. Rage and fury. Careful expression and gifting of what no longer serves us, so that it may gift what passes, and we may be empty to receive renewed life and warmth enough to bring us through the Winter-- not simply to dream, but to celebrate our lives.

In this season of Autumn wind, fierce storms, leaves of blinding beauty and the passion of one moving towards finality, let us all remember what it is we may fail to honor; life and impermanence. Death and rebirth. This is a time of allowing things to reach their final conclusion, and to let go with grace. Also a time to understand that offered up within the face of blinding intensity is our gift, and it is that very energy used to weave the next threads within the tapestry of our ever-changing lives.

Samhain Blessings to All, Love, Passion and Great Turning,
Alyce

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

True Seeing

All mirrors are clear.

If there is darkness or a lack of clarity,
it is only the smoke in your own eyes
clouding your vision,
confusion blocking the inner light
from shining brightly.

The clouds that block
true seeing
are covering your heart,
not your eyes.

One may learn to see clearly,
with the inner eye,
by opening the heart to love
a little more deeply,
and completely.
~Reconnection teaching, 8.11.11

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Happy Earth Day



Honor the earth. Love the earth. We are not separate from her, we are the co-creators of what is.

As ever-becoming beings, our thoughts, words and deeds will be our love talk to the planet today.

Feel your feet on the soil, sit by a tree, put your hands into the dirt, drink clean water, and most of all, feel gratitude for the earth within your being.


Required Earth Day reading: http://www.alternet.org/story/146568/five_ways_you_can_help_save_life_on_earth

Monday, December 21, 2009

We bring ourselves to the Feast


We can only ever bring to the world
what we were given...
be it fear, or love, or pain.

But until we soften our gaze and see through the eyes of honor;
open our heart and feel through devotion,
awaken our mind through consciousness and
learn to dwell in the wisdom pool of the soul,
it will only ever be someone else's offering.

There is no getting it "right",
there is only what you choose to bring.

We sit at the table of the Gods,
and we are the feast.