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Meditation Magic

Flying Birds Eye View

I love meditating and indulge myself daily in this liberating experience. This discipline has made a remarkable improvement in the area of my spiritual, mental, and physical strength.

I journey through my body, from the top of my head and on to the soles of my feet, using a homespun mantra of thanksgiving for the perfect health of every component in this precious body of mine.

From here, taking sound advice from my unofficial distance mentor, Eckart Tolle (‘The Power of Now.’) Who says that we should never chase the thoughts coming into our minds, but rather observe them, without becoming involved, I enter my meditative state.

“Meditation is the discovery that the point of life is always arrived at in the immediate moment.” – Alan Watts

My aim, with no pre-planned strategy in mind, is to silently drift, as clouds do ahead of the winds, in a yoga pose seated on the floor. I have no idea if the pose is essential to a deeper meditation or not, but at the very least, it does wonders for my posture.

More recently, in my meditation, I have taken to ‘flying’ in my body, sometimes only thirty or forty meters above the ground. Because I am invisible to the naked eye, I can observe, unnoticed by humans, animals, and birdlife, as they go about their daily activities. At other times I soar above the clouds and see the curvature of the earth below. I am grateful that I have sufficient ‘pictures’ in my mind to achieve all this. It’s so peaceful, relaxing, and above all – calming. I am slowly learning the art of ‘being.’

For me there are no rules, except to gain maximum from Eckart’s teaching, I steer myself into the now moment and discipline myself to remaining there.

Aaah, sweet bliss, I love this time, first thing in my day.

Photo by Nik Ramzi Nik Hassan on Unsplash

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Early Morning

 

I LOVE TO WATCH A SUN RISE
ACROSS THE FIELDS FAR WAY,
SPLASHES OF COLOR, BRIGHT SHADES OF RED
IT IS A SIGNAL OF A BEGINNING DAY.

THE CLOUDS MARCHING ACROSS THE SKY
FLUFFY BILLOWS OF SOFT WHITE,
THE SUN PEEKING UP OVER THE MOUNTAIN
PROMISING TO TAKE THE DARKNESS OF NIGHT.

THE FLOWERS BEGIN TO OPEN THEIR PEDALS
THEY HAVE BEEN SLEEPING OVERNIGHT,
ALL THE LOVELY SHADES OF PINK, YELLOW AND BLUE
STANDING THERE DAMP WITH MORNING DEW.

AT THE FIRST HINT OF DAYLIGHT
THE BIRDS BEGIN TO SING,
THEIR MUSIC CAN BE HEARD IN EVERY TREE
AS THEIR MELODIES BEGIN TO RING.

IT IS USUALLY VERY QUIET AT DAYBREAK
OFF IN THE DISTANCE I HEAR A ROOSTER CROW,Rooster at Sunrise
THE EARTH IS STILL SLEEPING NOT YET AWAKE
TIME TO GET UP, HE JUST WANTS US TO KNOW.

IT IS SO QUIET AND PEACEFUL
SITTING OUT UNDER A SHADE TREE,
READING THE DAILY NEWSPAPER
ENJOYING A GLASS OF ICE COLD TEA.

I WATCH A LITTLE LADY BUG
AS SHE TRAVELS IN A HURRY,
ACROSS A LEAF GOING REALLY NOWHERE
SHE DOESN’T SEEN TO MIND OR HAVE A WORRY.

A BUTTERFLY LANDS ON A MORNING GLORY
HIS LITTLE WINGS DIP UP AND DOWN,
SOON HE WILL LEAVE THAT FLOWER
AND SAIL TO OTHERS ALL AROUND.

A BUMBLE BEE HAS ALSO BEEN VISITING
HE OFTEN COMES QUITE NEAR,
HIS LITTLE WINGS MAKE A LOVELY SOUND
IF YOU LISTEN – YOU CAN HEAR.

I WISH EARLY MORNING LASTED LONGER
BUT I MUST GET BUSY AND START MY DAY,
BEFORE I KNOW IT THE SUN WILL START TO SINK
AND ON MY PILLOW, MY HEAD I WILL LAY.

BUT FOR NOW I WILL LINGER A FEW MOMENTS LONGER
NO NEED TO RUSH THE MORNING AWAY,
WON’T BE LONG UNTIL SPRING WILL TURN INTO WINTER
AND OUT HERE IN MY YARD I WON’T BE ABLE TO STAY.

Author: ADINE CATHEY

Submitted By: hayseed

https://www.scrapbook.com/poems/doc/33007.html

All rights reserved sirpeterjamesdotcom©2018-01-20

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Children

 

Children

Harry Martinson 1931

 

A group of children play here – the wind cleans the sky,

the clouds dance.

Someone flings rocks, someone helps an ant home,

someone throws the hazel spear through a spider’s web;harry Martinson

Some caress lovingly – a boy and girl,

explore the skin’s smoothness, blush red,

feel giddiness, kiss with red mouths.

The wind cleans the sky, the trees sway,

The children dance in unison – in group ecstasy.

Male and female buds live on the trees;

from the same trunk they emanate all around.

The wind, the wind! The Children, the children!

Don’t bring Lenin in here, don’t bring Ramakrishna,

Come with humility

Learn the important improvisations of wildness.

New origins are born with each child.

Come! the sea murmurs

Almost wild children – a thousand possibilities

Play marbles on the shore.

 

‘The Procession of Memories’

Selected Poems 1929-1945

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Things learned Along Life’s Way

The Watcher.

I love every day of my life and I am not suggesting, when I make this statement, that my life is easy, but rather and more importantly, my life is beautiful, both when its hard and when its easy.

This is how I see my life:

My life is a striking garden, filled with the most magnificent of flowers, scented bushes and indigenous trees. It has gently flowing water features that sing soft tranquil songs. There are paved paths leading to little benches sitting under the shade of motheringgardens 2trees, offering shelter from their wide branches. My garden has a small stream flowing through it, the source of which is a nearby mountain and is pure, even chilled and ready-to-drink.

Birds and an abundance of insect life have their homes in my garden. There are nests of every sort, a hive in a tree for a large colony of (very busy) bees.

My garden is a perfumery, where the skills of the great Master Perfumer infuse their extraordinary fragrances that evolve with each moment of the day and night.

My garden is a haven of peace in the stillness of the early morning, before the rays of sun, birds and insects, bring forth her radiant glory. She brings forth her, out-of-the-ordinary fragrance, for those who will venture into this very exclusive time of day – when moon and stars rule the heavens – all others are still asleep; only the Watcher, who seeks to drink deeply of her offerings. The Watcher comes, whilst the sun is bidding farewell to foreign lands, far away.

The Watcher, who breathes in her fragrance of the dew on the grass and leaves, the earth as it offers its nourishment of new life, to all who would grow there. All the while, each one makes ready for the arrival of the sun, heralding the new day.

The Watcher, who comes to greet the Master Perfumer, here in this paradise of my garden, whilst all is yet still – whilst the voice of the Perfumer can be easily heard.

I rise up, for now the sun has announced her arrival – first with shades of orange tint on the great clouds above and then to the greeting of the community of birds and insects, gratefully hailing the sun for her arrival.

The Watcher greets his day in chorus with the others and sets about his tasks for the new day, grateful for his garden, grateful for his life and the opportunity of yet another day!

Later in the heat of the day the great white clouds do gather in the sky above, now joined by the winds and also darker clouds, the sun, gracefully steps aside, as her place is above all this feverish gathering. The wind, in cyclone fever, makes her presence known; she dances among the trees and they twist, sway, bow and join in tune to her song – they dance and their branches begin to clap. The community fly to Storm Among Treesthe safety of their nests and hives, those that dwell beneath the ground, taking refuge from the celebration of which they cannot take part. For this is the celebration of the wind, clouds, dancing and clapping trees, the fire of the lightning bolts and the thundering heavens.

Now the rain arrives, most loved of all elements, the ice, who promises much nourishment to the soil, which holds all together. Leaves take to flight in all directions, grateful for their small part on the celebration stage.

Slowly, almost unnoticed, the tempo of the celebration settles into gentle soft droplets, assuring the earth of its full promise of nutrition. The thunder and lightning bow off the stage, leaving the clouds to continue the next performance on a parched theater awaiting their arrival with deep expectation.

The Watcher begins to clap; he honors the performers, who wave as they move off the stage.

The Watcher smiles, as he has learned that, there is no paradise in his garden, without the customary visits of the performers, who stir up a halcyon commotion, forcing all to break out of the routine of daily harmony and to join the celebration of the Master Perfumer’s life giving sustenance.

The Watcher observes that in the stillness of the shows aftermath, the community, once again emerge from their shelters and continue with their harvest, they neither fear, nor complain about the show – they have never been taught how to do that – they are just grateful and thankful for the keeper of my garden – The great Master Perfumer.

 

The Watcher has drunk deeply of the sorrows, pains and times of loneliness of this life; but these are no longer meaningful to him as they have become fading memories in the light of his beautiful garden of joy, peace and tranquility.

For he has discovered, that whilst he has flown on the wings of the wind and flirted with the sun, far above the tempest staged below, there was peace above and below, in his world.

Biplane Above Cloud

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‘Things Learned Along Lifes Way’ is a series that will be published on a bi-monthly basis.

If you feel this article has value, please send this link to others, Writings are meant for people, not for dormant files in our computers and very often when we share them, it results in positive changes in the lives of individuals and communities.
If you are spiritually inclined see my other site; http://www.adcrucemchristi.com
Please feel free to send in questions (see ‘Contact’) and comments (hit ‘Comments’
button).