I found meaning in my coffee and themes in my dreams

TADA! I exist!

Ta-da! or ta-dah [tuh-dah]

(used as a jovial interjection in making an announcement, taking a bow, etc.)

"Ta-da, I exist!" are the words I imagine my Higher Self uttering as I awaken each morning, grateful for this precious human birth. Ideally, I want to smile and stretch, exclaiming -- "Here I am in Earth School again, back from the dream (my favorite place to fly, it seems). Every moment past has led to this one experience of NOW. This is it. How will I choose to express my light today?

Embodiment and Boundaries: These are the themes of 2020 and 2021 for me.

Last year I committed to the "ExperimenTemple of Myself," and chose radiant health, physical conditioning and expressive movement to get into flow with my body and out of mental prison. I am, for one, what my dear old Dad has called a "body expresser". My intention points to the theory that the physical human body is the beginning: the "rocket launcher of the soul," as a wise teacher has described it, I recall it was Ram Dass. We were designed and wired for evolution and growth. Within the mind there is a solar system of power to be either harnessed or misused. What I'm learning is that embodiment and body expression helps me find space between the body and the mind.

Mindfulness practices (like sitting with my breathing, even for as little as 10-15 minutes a day) can give me more control over my mental faculties. If I can, with compassion for myself, distance myself from thought loops a little more often, take a good objective look at mental formations as being nothing but that -- neutral thought forms & brain waves, I notice that Earth School feels a lot more cool. This is the direction I've begun to move my life force in, after decades of blindly running around like a chicken with her head in the clouds. Ta-da, It's easy to do that, and ta-da, I catch myself all the time!

Daydreams, stories of imagination, all the unhatched "if I do this I'll be happy" schemes (though naturally human to experience) can be insignificant trips or they can catalyze destabilizing missteps; 'cloud-headed chicken' knows... The present moment, here, is all that exists.

Through practicing meditation, journaling and play, I have begun to re-parent myself by connecting to my inner child. In the space of our connection (present "me" with "inner child") I come to recognize the wisdom and potential power for good in my dreaming and imagining. I believe that when one learns to lay down these boundaries along with mindful agency and self-confidence... an artist is born. The lesson: Present-day adult me needs to use some common-sense and self-discipline to connect to the vastness of her power drawn from the sacred realm of Dreamtime...in other words, listen to my intuition. To get there, I have to get quiet and still.

Coming home to myself through practice

In my morning ritual, I put on some music for a little boogie to shake off the dross, and now, my pelvis is plugged into the flexible wicker chair seat, a pleasurable tactile novelty on my cheeks, I notice, prompting a giggle. I breathe in, pulling air towards my center, swirling it in a wash over my spine. As I exhale, I speak, "Be embodied."

Coming home again to NOW, I listen. What can I hear? A central air fan humming, a wooden wicked candle crackling, a concert of birdsong. Up comes the thought, "what kind of bird is that?" Thinking!!! Down goes the pull of gravity on my feet and pelvis. Birdsong. My perfect offering is to listen. Listen with my ears (so grateful to have ears to hear with!), with my heart, the sound of a drum... Again, I catch myself -- Thinking! It drops. I am embodied, doing naught but being with breathing. Steadfast determination to go deeper...Swish goes a breeze swiftly through the corridors of my nose, into my skull briefly and I hold still.

Sacred pause.

Exhaling I speak, "Inner child, dear heart, what do you drum for today?" Intuition is the language of the whispers I hear, echoing through spinning spokes of a bicycle wheel. I hear the timbre of gravel crushed under a grooved black rubber tire, slightly deflated...one can tell by the sound. Smoosshhhh-smooosshhhh-smmooossh. No worries, because the tire pump is in the barn.

I go to my childhood home. I see a young girl facing the faded red paint of the barn. The smells of oxidizing cardboard and ancient dirt floor rise in a cool shock to her face as she heaves the sliding door open... "Meeoooowww"...The velvety whiskered face of a tiger-sized tabby cat at eye-level comes into view, his markings familiar; his presence, welcome. I sense a beating heart, (my physical heart and inner child's as ONE) purring and glowing with warmth, just as our tiger cat turns into a prismatic clear quartz egg. The shape expands out towards me. I am my inner child.

The permeable edges of the hollow egg sparkle around me and I know intuitively that this Spirit Guide has always been with me. Only what is in my greatest good can pass through the boundaries of the crystal shield. Anything I need to release, I can shed. I hear a bird singing. A Wren. It reminds me of my mother. I forgive her, her mother, her mother, and myself. A spray of tiny twinkly diamonds propels from our Heart of Hearts, splashing (plip! plop!) into the Ancestral River behind me; on and on, forever.

I see you, Inner child, dear heart. I have your back now. I mother you, parent you and mentor you. I trust that you hold innate gifts, those of which were stifled in your growth and forgotten in the spin cycle of life. We slow it all down, commit to listen together now, and remember. We tend our secret garden and build the Earth Ship of our Wholeness. This is our practice, and no one needs to understand this work of ours save ourselves. Keep courage and faith; all is not lost, only out of view for a time. Remember that, remember, remember....

Ahhhhh... With a deep sigh, blink open my eyes, re-focus on the room, and rise to stretch. I switch on the kettle to make coffee. "I DO WHAT I WANT" is the message inscribed on the chosen mug. On the white porcelain cup, a cartoon cat contorts himself to clean his own cat butt. I approve of the comical message!

The kettle boils. That smell! Mmm...the nostalgia of the fragrant bean! I pour the water and the third time the filter atop my cup drains, I remove it to visually appreciate the fresh coffee (strong, but half-caffeinated). I see the silhouette of a proudly sitting cat on the bubbled surface! It feels like a message from the angel-cat who protects and guides me--the lion-love of my heart of hearts. This "coffee oracle" almost defies gravity, filled to the brim of the mug in a nearly convex surface. I drip some oat milk in, without a spill, miraculously. Adding more yummy to a cup already full, I note that more space is made. Hmmm. The surface bulges a little more, and I bow down to place my lips to the mug, slurping delightfully.

It really is good to be alive! With a little help from my Spirit friends, I get to keep filling my cup for the benefit of all beings...I get to become more full and whole every day. I get to feel the protection of my unique process in an orb of light..."Boundaries". Yum yum.

In Gratitude to the Great Mystery and Love to all,

PNW x0