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INSPIRATIONS The spiritual journey is not a journey at all but an abiding in the present moment. What would we do if we realized that there was no place to get to, no striving that needed doing, no world that needed saving? Would we waste away this precious life? Would we decide there is no reason to live a balanced ecologically-minded life? Would we make choices that would cause the degradation of the earth's resources and the extinction of millions of species. Sounds like that's exactly what we HAVE been doing! Under the influence of the belief that the world's fate is held in the balance and that at it's essence, things are 'wrong' and need to be made 'right', we have attempted to try to make everything work, we have made decisions that lead us to the current state of affairs. What would it be like if we dared to believe that Life is in control? And what would it be like to be in the place where the flow was already happening...where decisions arise instead of 'having to be made'? "Live at the empty heart of paradox. I'll dance with you there, cheek to cheek." -Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks There is a world that is right before us, that is in us, that is us... managing to stay invisible to the mass of human consciousness. How do we begin to access this? Can we ask the questions? Is the way I think I am seeing things really the way it is? Can we open our hearts? Can we challenge our very sight? Maybe things are not as they seem... If your interest lies in this direction, you will find some wonderful INSPIRATIONS to follow. THE VAST EXPANSE is a piece that goes right to the heart of the matter...written beautifully by Alex Grey In his unique approach, Adyashanti conveys the wonder in his poem Silence Aldous Huxley says... The spiritual journey does not consist of arriving at a new destination where a person gains what he does not have, or becomes what he is not. It consists in the dissipation of one's own ignorance concerning oneself and life, and the gradual growth of that understanding which begins the spiritual awakening. And Jed McKenna... "The most devoutly religious and spiritual people - those who reset their coordinates and retask their lives to pursue spiritual growth or reshape themselves to conform to religious ideals - would seem to be the most likely candidates for the type of spiritual rebirth I am describing, but they are invariably the ones most effectively shielded against it. Even the most committed spiritual aspirants are seldom more than amateurs and hobbyists, as dedicated to their spiritual practices and ideals as others might be to their model trains or needlework. The most sincere seekers are the most desperate to stay lost; that's the real dynamic at work in the spiritual quest. They're not seeking truth or answers; they're seeking relief from Spiritual Dissonance. Providing this relief is the lifeblood of the religious and spiritual marketplace. It has nothing to do with truth or awakening. in fact, just the opposite. In the final analysis, stripped of all it's holy pretensions, the entire spiritual marketplace is really nothing more than an existential quick-lube shop, and while there may be an endless variety of packaging, there really is only one product. Spiritual Consonance is what all seekers seek; an end to discomfort, not delusion. But the consonance they seek can only be found in deeper unconsciousness, which requires the reduction of dissonance. There is such a thing as true Spiritual Consonance, an integrated, natural and exceedingly desireable state, but acting tranquil and serene has never gotten anyone there and never will. How is it possible that so few are able to find the only thing that can never be lost? It's not easy. It takes everything we have, but it's the one thing at which mankind truly excels....there is one thing we do remarkably well, and only when you get clear of it can you look back and see what a miracle of consciousness engineering self-delusion really is." The Impeded Stream It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work. And that when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings. - Wendell Berry More than a simple literal place, the world is an eternal drama, a story told from beginning to end, and end to beginning, again and again. The world cannot end unless it runs out of stories. When “the End” seems near it’s the mythic sense, the eternal roots, and creative imagination that are missing. In “the End” there is no end, as each ending shapes a crossing place where some things conclude while something else continues. The problem isn’t that the world might end completely, rather, the issue is how to act when it seems that way. What’s missing is the imagination necessary to hold end and beginning together. Behind the “ecological crisis” and the “war of terror,” there lies a crisis of meaning and a loss of the sense of the sacred in the immediate pulse of the world. The blind exploitation of the earth follows upon lost connections to the realm of nature, as if humanity has broken a secret bond with Great Nature and become estranged from “inner nature” as well. When “the End” seems near, how people imagine the world becomes more important; how people imagine humanity becomes of the utmost importance. Despite pressing concerns, the issue isn’t so much “saving the planet” as rescuing humanity from itself again. In “dark times” the issue becomes living an authentic life. Being fully alive means suffering the exact story trying to live through one’s life and lending one’s true nature to the drama of existence – to become a wick burning with the flame of one’s life-long story. -Michael Meade Our trip to Yelapa  
We enjoyed a sumptuous taste of the native village of Yelapa
on the Pacific coast of Mexico, south of Puerto Vallarta, accessed
by a one hour water taxi ride.This unspoiled village brought me right to the natural world in all it's beauty...with just enough electricity to allow me to enjoy it all in 'comfort'. 
Our bed was outside under a palm thatched roof (palapa) with a mosquito
net keeping the critters away.br> We enjoyed the unique tropical wildlife - eagles, hawks, lots of wild parrots and parakeet, chachalaka, tejones (racoon-like tree creatures), gila monster (an iguana-like reptile with a bite 'to die for') and iguanas! And our dear friends, Steve and Terry who made this trip possible... "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — over and over announcing your place in the family of things. "Morning Poem" by Mary Oliver Every morning the world is created. Under the orange sticks of the sun the heaped ashes of the night turn into leaves again and fasten themselves to the high branches --- and the ponds appear like black cloth on which are painted islands of summer lilies. If it is your nature to be happy you will swim away along the soft trails for hours, your imagination alighting everywhere. And if your spirit carries within it the thorn that is heavier than lead --- if it's all you can do to keep on trudging --- there is still somewhere deep within you a beast shouting that the earth is exactly what it wanted --- each pond with its blazing lilies is a prayer heard and answered lavishly, every morning, whether or not you have ever dared to be happy, whether or not you have ever dared to pray. from Dream Work (1986) by Mary Oliver © Mary Oliver "Brahma" Ralph Waldo Emerson IF the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near; Shadow and sunlight are the same; The vanished gods to me appear; And one to me are shame and fame. They recon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, I am the hymn the Brahmin sings. The strong gods pine for my abode, And pine in vain the sacred Seven; But thou, meek lover of the good Find me, and turn thy back on heaven. "Autumn Rose Elegy" Rumi You've gone to the secret world. Which way is it? You broke the cage and flew. You heard the drum that calls you home. You left this humiliating shelf, this disorienting desert where we're given wrong directions. What use now a crown? You've become the sun. No need for a belt; you've slipped out of your waist! I have heard that near the end you were eyes looking at soul. No looking now. You live inside the soul. You're the strange autumn rose that led the winter wind in by withering. You're rain soaking everywhere from cloud to ground. No bother of talking. Flowing silence and sweet sleep beside the Friend. ...David and Una  | 
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