Weaving Gold

Mokosha, Anastasia Sophia, and Me, Natalia . . . while the books are written

Portal Magic

Window in the sky

makes me wonder:

What’s beyond?

Walking the same paths and sitting in the same spots rewards the soul. I love seeing new places, exploring and discovering things for the first time. But there is a richness, a sweetness, a deep satisfaction in revisiting, reflecting, reconnecting.

Do you have a magical place that feeds your soul? I’d love to hear about it.

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Letting Humanness Be

On October, 1, 2014, a Fool stepped from the a cliff, and my journey through the tarot began. At embarkation, I though I was traveling a mere eighteen inches, from head to heart. I knew the distance was more daunting than it seemed, but still, it was a small adjustment, I convinced myself, from thinking to feeling; from analyzing to sensing; from rigidity to softness.

The guides I encountered, disappointed. The High Priestess handed me a scroll that was to reveal my the secret of my highest potential, but it burned in my hands before I could decipher its words. The Empress held up a mirror to show me that I’ve got this thing called life in hand, but I continue to feel inept. The Emperor reassured me, saying, “You are safe,” but left me the next day, just the same. The Hierophant demanded that I profess my secret knowledge, but I ended up announcing that I can teach others no thing.

In the second week of my journey, revelation! The cards revealed my passion for Adventure and exploring mysteries through writing, and they promised it would be easy. I crafted a contract between the Eternal part of me and the me that is typing. I secured ease, abundance, and flow in writing. I integrated, transformed, transmuted, and released, everything, over and over. I attempted to shake it all up, to create harmony, but I failed. I felt nothing. I did nothing. I waited.

I am waiting . . . some more . . . again. I am breaking the chains of society’s conditioning and opinions, and letting them rust and disintegrate. I am emerging from dark and formless roots, hoping that wings will unfurl and allow me to fly. I am discovering my own true nature and am determined to live in accordance with it.

I am waiting . . . some more . . . again. I am dreaming impossible, improbable dreams. And I am letting it be.


Inspired by Lyn Thruman‘s October Writing Challenge: Writing the Wisdom of the Soul. I am playing and believing, amidst continuing confusion.

Prompt for October 30: The World is the feeling of wholeness and happiness that comes when everything lines up perfectly, usually part through our own efforts and part as a gift from the Universe (for playing so nicely).

Write about the journey you’ve taken through the different tarot cards in this challenge. What did you discover about yourself? What days/cards were the easiest and what were the hardest?

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Alone

My journey began inside, when I moved from head to heart. Day by day, I moved outward, recognizing my passion and celebrating my wild wide. I leaped off the cliff.

My fall is safe, a drifting and gliding rather than a plummeting. I know that life isn’t as serious as I make it out to be. I trust that my journey will be smooth, my tasks easy, and my adventures joyful. Still, I am happy to take a moment for quiet and solitude.

I enter the sanctuary. Gold walls wrap me in ancient wisdom. The smell of incense transports me deeper into myself. Soft music lulls my chattering brain toward stillness.

Wrapping myself in a blanket, I prop my head on a cushion and drape a scented pillow over my eyes.

Escape.

When we find no support among others for our deeply felt truths, we can either feel isolated and bitter, or celebrate the fact that our vision is strong enough even to survive the powerful human need for the approval of family, friends or colleagues. 
~ OSHO

I celebrate my journey, decisions, and experiences. I worship my anxiety and excitement, uncertainty and knowing, panic and confidence. My passion is supported by solid gold. In the silence and aloneness, I know.


Inspired by Lyn Thruman‘s October Writing Challenge: Writing the Wisdom of the Soul. I am expanding, evolving, shaking in my shoes, and preparing to write for pleasure.

Prompt for October 14: Retreating from the world is a necessary part of growth, especially spiritual growth, as we can’t see our soul-light if it’s being doused by distractions.

Write about a place (real or imaginary) where you can retreat from the crazy-busy world into quietness and solitude. This is the place where your soul-light shines the brightest.


 

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Just a Little Bit of Magic Pulls Me Through

The magician has delivered my miracle-maker kit: a chalice, a wand, a sword and a pentacle. I am grateful for each item, but I’ve been on The Journey long enough to know that it is I who am the miracle-maker, or not. Tools can be useful, but they are inert. I must determine how and when to wield them.

In this life alone, my journey has been exhilarating and eviscerating, blissful and busy, wearying and mind-numbingly dull. Yesterday, I embarked on a particularly perilous section of the road: the journey from head the heart. The beginning was only cognition. The downward spiral, begins today.

Oh, yes. I already know the path is a spiral. If the trajectory were simple and uncomplicated, I would have reached Destination Heart long ago. This is not my first attempt at the plummet.

Welcome to ground zero: My Head. As I stand here, I realize that I think a lot — too much perhaps — thoughts popping in and out, and churning around — yet, I have not spent much time contemplating this summit of my body. A skin and face covered cranium contains my brain, receiver for Mind. Here I stand, surrounded by folds of grey matter. Every way I turn, I see a tunnel that could be the beginning of the way out and down, if I only I knew which way to go.

The tool I need is a map, a schematic of my brain. The tools I have been given are chalice, wand, sword, and pentacle. It is fortunate that I’ve read and watched Harry Potter so many times. I choose the wand and say, “Lumos.” And there is light.

Brightness does not yield elucidation. I am surprised to see that I am in a cavernous, empty room. I drop to hands and knees and search the floor for an opening. I want to go, down into my heart, but I see and feel only smooth surfaces. A map would have been useless after all. I cannot escape the first chamber.

I contemplate my tools, again. I consider using the sword to cut a hole into the floor, but quickly discard the idea. I won’t damage my own brain, even to open a passage to my heart. I would die before reaching my target.

I do not know the purpose of the pentacle, but I remove it from the sack and hold it in my palm. The star radiates heat and glows. You are safe, I hear or sense or feel from its pulsing. I relax on the floor and feel my body ease into the yielding surface. My perception swings between panic at being swallowed by my brain, and fervent hope that I am moving toward my heart.

The calm and uncertainty evaporates. I am attacked by specters and phantoms. I swing my sword in circles, overhead and before me, as I spin, turn, and tumble. I thud onto a new surface. I have reached my heart. Choirs of angels sing. Soft colors swirl around me. Sweet nectar collects in my cup. I drink. I have arrived and accepted the call. I shall learn to hear and follow the urgings of my heart.


Inspired by Lyn Thruman‘s October Writing Challenge: Writing the Wisdom of the Soul

Prompt for October 2: The Magician brings the tools to write the story. He’s the magic mojo man —with faith and the right mix of elements, anything is possible.

Write about the miracles you want or need to manifest with your miracle-maker kit.  What’s going to make your journey sweeter?

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The Longest Journey

 

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Card from OSHO Zen Tarot

Love is an enigma for me: a word bandied about in writing about partners and children, a feeling that should dwell in my heart, a mystery that is the key to enlightenment. The thought of love causes my pulse to race, my body to quiver, and terror to swish through my belly.

I discern no cause for my trepidation. I had a happy childhood. I was, by every definition, loved. I was valued, honored, and supported. I am in a beautiful marriage. I am, by every definition, loved. I am appreciated, encouraged, and celebrated. I have three amazing children who shower me with hugs, kisses, and conversation. I have friends and community. I have everything I need, except the understanding, experiencing, and embracing of the greatest love of all.

The journey I want to take has been called “the longest journey you will make in your life.”  The path I wish to travel is from my head to my heart.

by Mira Reisberg

At this point in my writing, I was interrupted. Jonathon, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, came for a good morning cuddle. I realized: I do know love.

  • I know love as the tenderness I feel for my family members’ successes, failures, struggles, and joys.
  • I know love as a willingness to provide a lap for snuggling, to interrupt my own activities to deliver forgotten school books, or to listen to what they want to say.
  • I know love as pleasure in resting my cheek on a child’s head, in touch, in sharing meals or a glass of wine.

I do know love. I feel love. I experience love daily, hourly, in every moment.

But…

Do I feel tenderness for me?

What am I willing to give to me?

How do I find pleasure in me?

I could write, for, to, and in MYSELF. Myself sounds BIG and IMPORTANT, compared to little ol’ me. But I am not little. I am old in the most glorious and ancient of ways. I am ready for The Journey, from Head to Heart. I am ready to dwell on the path of Self-Love. I am ready to trust.

“…Trust, is the greatest quantum leap. To come from the head to the heart is the longest journey. Man can reach the moon — that is easier — and soon man will reach to the stars; that too is not very difficult. The only problem and the most difficult journey is: to move from the head to the heart, because they don’t exist in the same dimension — their ways of existing are so different. (Osho, Darshan Diaries, The 99 Names of Nothingness, Ch.20)

I have come to the end of my writing exercise. My journey is begun, as every journey is, with a single step. I know, something new: To be tender with myself, I must be willing to look at and see myself. Then, I can take pleasure in ME.


Written for Lyn Thruman‘s October Writing Challenge: Writing the Wisdom of the Soul

Prompt for October 1: Write about a journey you want to take in life…

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