Tonight we are moths to flame with wings afire, opened by kindness, the fireflies of forgiveness easing out of the shadows, and still we are aloft, ever higher, many bushes burning, the way we have always been, the way we were born to be.
We return to the light, to the source, and we remember the one home that has never been separate, and the cloud of us, high and burning, sets the night sky to flame and we know the way, it is finally clear. The way that is behind and ahead, the way that is was and will always be, and tonight, bathed in the fire of our divine spark, we dance.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
A Restless Heart
Deut 28: 64 - 68
9/8/12
We all have times when we realize the goals we are striving for, the ways we are living, the ways we treat ourselves and others, do not serve us how we had hoped.
We lose our way. We are not serving the god, the path, the universe that sustains us, fulfills us and brings us into the Promised Land. We know we want more, but the more we have been defining for ourselves in not working; it's not useful. So what do we do?
It usually includes some kind of awakening that can look very much like a breakdown. We become lost, we realize that we may never have known the way, but there is a promise here: there is a way. Tried and true. It's not x+y=z, but it is a turning, or returning, to YHVH, all that is, was and will be.
We must find the others who have been scattered. We must gather and seek and heal. Our hearts are heavy, our lives have been spent in exile, long stretches or moments or wrong action, but we do have a home. We've suffered the consequences -- we can see it, no matter how much we have accomplished or acquired, and we live with those consequences. And the road ahead is HARD.
But it is do-able.
You/me/we will spend the rest of our lives doing it, turning and returning, living through our choices and circumstances.
So go forth, no matter how scattered we are, no matter how dire the pain of consequences have been. We can start now. We can do it. There is a home, a way to turn and return, YHVH is there for us. So keep walking. Shift your focus, but keep going -- it's there for us all -- right here, and here, and there. Do-able. Keep walking.
Your heart and soul can heal.
9/8/12
We all have times when we realize the goals we are striving for, the ways we are living, the ways we treat ourselves and others, do not serve us how we had hoped.
We lose our way. We are not serving the god, the path, the universe that sustains us, fulfills us and brings us into the Promised Land. We know we want more, but the more we have been defining for ourselves in not working; it's not useful. So what do we do?
It usually includes some kind of awakening that can look very much like a breakdown. We become lost, we realize that we may never have known the way, but there is a promise here: there is a way. Tried and true. It's not x+y=z, but it is a turning, or returning, to YHVH, all that is, was and will be.
We must find the others who have been scattered. We must gather and seek and heal. Our hearts are heavy, our lives have been spent in exile, long stretches or moments or wrong action, but we do have a home. We've suffered the consequences -- we can see it, no matter how much we have accomplished or acquired, and we live with those consequences. And the road ahead is HARD.
But it is do-able.
You/me/we will spend the rest of our lives doing it, turning and returning, living through our choices and circumstances.
So go forth, no matter how scattered we are, no matter how dire the pain of consequences have been. We can start now. We can do it. There is a home, a way to turn and return, YHVH is there for us. So keep walking. Shift your focus, but keep going -- it's there for us all -- right here, and here, and there. Do-able. Keep walking.
Your heart and soul can heal.
That Guy
Deut 17: 14 - 20
Shoftim
Leaders and Judges
Sometimes, I think, secretly, part of us all wants to be that guy. Chosen by God to lead our compatriots, our kinsmen, our fellow travelers.
We would embody justice, humility, fairness and truth. We would feel sacred and blessed to be in this position. We wouldn't abuse our power, turn to greed, treat some with favor, others with scorn. We would be holy. Not perfect, not without erring or falling, but always learning in our drive to honor and represent this chosenness. To honor the trust and faith others place in us and let all our words, all our works, and all our joys be for peace and goodness in the service of the true king.
But can we see it? Do others? What do we allow ourselves to see, even when it's not what we want? Secretly, whether we know it or not, we are all that capable of seeing.
That guy, that woman, that chosen one. But we must trust. Wholeheartedly, whole soul-edly. And we must hold that sacred truth humbly in our hearts, and as we see Yud Hey Vav Hey unfolding our origami paths, then we must go out there and work. Make our words messages of peace. Make our actions messages of wisdom, our thoughts prayers of gratitude.
We are all that chosen, moving and being and doing in the world. May we all be blessed in our doing and being, choosing our words and our leaders carefully on our paths to justice, humility, and peace.
Shoftim
Leaders and Judges
Sometimes, I think, secretly, part of us all wants to be that guy. Chosen by God to lead our compatriots, our kinsmen, our fellow travelers.
We would embody justice, humility, fairness and truth. We would feel sacred and blessed to be in this position. We wouldn't abuse our power, turn to greed, treat some with favor, others with scorn. We would be holy. Not perfect, not without erring or falling, but always learning in our drive to honor and represent this chosenness. To honor the trust and faith others place in us and let all our words, all our works, and all our joys be for peace and goodness in the service of the true king.
But can we see it? Do others? What do we allow ourselves to see, even when it's not what we want? Secretly, whether we know it or not, we are all that capable of seeing.
That guy, that woman, that chosen one. But we must trust. Wholeheartedly, whole soul-edly. And we must hold that sacred truth humbly in our hearts, and as we see Yud Hey Vav Hey unfolding our origami paths, then we must go out there and work. Make our words messages of peace. Make our actions messages of wisdom, our thoughts prayers of gratitude.
We are all that chosen, moving and being and doing in the world. May we all be blessed in our doing and being, choosing our words and our leaders carefully on our paths to justice, humility, and peace.
Deut 1: 6-8 7/26/12
We Can't Go Forward In Freedom Unless We Hold Where We've Been
So, here we are. The journey that we began so long ago, really began in slavery. Look what we lost -- and look what we found. Are we better off now? We hope so. It doesn't always feel that way.
But to really know where we've been, we have to know who we are -- the parts of ourselves we mourn, the actual people we have lost, the hopes and dreams we shed along the way, the bitterness and sweetness we've encountered that has been unpredictable, not what we thought, not who we were, but who and what we are.
Really? Are we too old for our youthful dreams? Too young to know our wise truth?
No.
But it's all different than we thought it would be.
God doesn't give us a Disney fairytale. There isn't a happily-ever-after, neat-and-tidy ending, roll credits... WE AREN'T DONE!
So look around, look within... Who are you now? Who are the people around us? What is the story now? Not the one from ten years ago, not the one from fourteen months ago, but NOW.
Can we open ourselves to the story unfolding with us, all around us, and within us? We have to ask and listen, ask and listen, in order to enter the truth, the hope and spirit of the promised land. Examine our previous and current fears, and look at the way we are making ourselves ready to go where no one has gone before.
We all have the capacity to hear, the capacity to learn, and the capacity to support every voice in freedom and hope, with love and gratitude.
So, here we are. The journey that we began so long ago, really began in slavery. Look what we lost -- and look what we found. Are we better off now? We hope so. It doesn't always feel that way.
But to really know where we've been, we have to know who we are -- the parts of ourselves we mourn, the actual people we have lost, the hopes and dreams we shed along the way, the bitterness and sweetness we've encountered that has been unpredictable, not what we thought, not who we were, but who and what we are.
Really? Are we too old for our youthful dreams? Too young to know our wise truth?
No.
But it's all different than we thought it would be.
God doesn't give us a Disney fairytale. There isn't a happily-ever-after, neat-and-tidy ending, roll credits... WE AREN'T DONE!
So look around, look within... Who are you now? Who are the people around us? What is the story now? Not the one from ten years ago, not the one from fourteen months ago, but NOW.
Can we open ourselves to the story unfolding with us, all around us, and within us? We have to ask and listen, ask and listen, in order to enter the truth, the hope and spirit of the promised land. Examine our previous and current fears, and look at the way we are making ourselves ready to go where no one has gone before.
We all have the capacity to hear, the capacity to learn, and the capacity to support every voice in freedom and hope, with love and gratitude.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
The Path Back
Balaam/Balak
Numbers 22: 21-35
July 7, 2012
I missed it. Again. I saw, then I became blind. I hate that! It's so embarrassing to look back and see what I've done, knowing I wasn't paying attention, I wasn't awake, I wasn't doing what I knew I should do or even thought what I did was right, but I was wrong.
There were some indications, but made that other temptation into what I wanted. I saw what I wanted to see, put blinders on what I didn't want to see -- and now it's a big huge mess and I have to fix it.
I have to humble myself. Recognize that my hunger led me astray, led me to where I thought I could have it all but now I have this. Ugh. I hate having to be the fool again, back down the totem pole -- and I really didn't like the bottom of the totem pole.
My teacher, Natalie Goldberg, talks about "beginner's mind" -- the energy of letting go of the trappings of our egos, our position, our status, and entering into the now, the this-ness of now, without fear.
And it might mean taking a hit, and I personally hate it when I take a hit! But it shows us who we are, mistakes and all, when we course correct. When we move ourselves back into alignment with the flow of all that is, was, and will be, unfolding around us.
Then we, as a people, are blessed.
Numbers 22: 21-35
July 7, 2012
I missed it. Again. I saw, then I became blind. I hate that! It's so embarrassing to look back and see what I've done, knowing I wasn't paying attention, I wasn't awake, I wasn't doing what I knew I should do or even thought what I did was right, but I was wrong.
There were some indications, but made that other temptation into what I wanted. I saw what I wanted to see, put blinders on what I didn't want to see -- and now it's a big huge mess and I have to fix it.
I have to humble myself. Recognize that my hunger led me astray, led me to where I thought I could have it all but now I have this. Ugh. I hate having to be the fool again, back down the totem pole -- and I really didn't like the bottom of the totem pole.
My teacher, Natalie Goldberg, talks about "beginner's mind" -- the energy of letting go of the trappings of our egos, our position, our status, and entering into the now, the this-ness of now, without fear.
And it might mean taking a hit, and I personally hate it when I take a hit! But it shows us who we are, mistakes and all, when we course correct. When we move ourselves back into alignment with the flow of all that is, was, and will be, unfolding around us.
Then we, as a people, are blessed.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Warts and All
Numbers 16:1-7
Korah - Are We Each Holy?
6/23/12
Oh yud hey vav hey (I will be what I will be), who makes us both full to overflowing and broken open, broken-hearted, what is it to be holy amongst heartbreak and regret? Knowing we have done our part, walked our path as faithfully and fully as possible, knowing we have strayed and returned, knowing we have wronged and forgiven, been wronged and been forgiven, believed and not believed, but grown.
Here we stand on the precipice of the vision that carried us and carried you, our loving, eternal guide, through so many turns and twists, so many joys and sorrows. What are we to think? To feel in this moment of "no"? This moment of dreams denied, of hopes ungranted, of surefootedness taking us to the brink of salvation but not into it? Some of us were ready. The rest of us were not. Should we be ashamed?
Perhaps it is another lesson, another way of knowing that our past and present and our future, while all existing at once, do not get to be fully inhabited all at once. That we will live on in the way we have walked and talked and loved and godded ourselves by your hand, into those around us who will carry on the journey.
But God, why some of us and not others? It's not fair. It feels unfair. And to make this bitterness into sweet takes many tears, many words, even some blame tossed around to alleviate our disappointment. In our hearts we know we did all we could, and yet we still carried our fear and doubt. We see as we stop here that this leaving, this journey -- it was bigger than us. It will go on without us, and we are bereft, but we take comfort in our courage and our failings. You made us in your image, there is peace in that. We are chosen and not all chosen for the same tasks. There is peace in that too, once the sadness fades. But the doubts, the self-confidence, that takes time.
We thank you for the journey. The imperfectly perfect journey. We send our hopes and our children into the future, the Land of Milk and Honey. We hope they will know and honor the labor and sweetness, of work and guard and holy, of promise and redemption, of honoring your name that has led us, honored us, protected us and chosen us, and allowed us to reach this day.
Korah - Are We Each Holy?
6/23/12
Oh yud hey vav hey (I will be what I will be), who makes us both full to overflowing and broken open, broken-hearted, what is it to be holy amongst heartbreak and regret? Knowing we have done our part, walked our path as faithfully and fully as possible, knowing we have strayed and returned, knowing we have wronged and forgiven, been wronged and been forgiven, believed and not believed, but grown.
Here we stand on the precipice of the vision that carried us and carried you, our loving, eternal guide, through so many turns and twists, so many joys and sorrows. What are we to think? To feel in this moment of "no"? This moment of dreams denied, of hopes ungranted, of surefootedness taking us to the brink of salvation but not into it? Some of us were ready. The rest of us were not. Should we be ashamed?
Perhaps it is another lesson, another way of knowing that our past and present and our future, while all existing at once, do not get to be fully inhabited all at once. That we will live on in the way we have walked and talked and loved and godded ourselves by your hand, into those around us who will carry on the journey.
But God, why some of us and not others? It's not fair. It feels unfair. And to make this bitterness into sweet takes many tears, many words, even some blame tossed around to alleviate our disappointment. In our hearts we know we did all we could, and yet we still carried our fear and doubt. We see as we stop here that this leaving, this journey -- it was bigger than us. It will go on without us, and we are bereft, but we take comfort in our courage and our failings. You made us in your image, there is peace in that. We are chosen and not all chosen for the same tasks. There is peace in that too, once the sadness fades. But the doubts, the self-confidence, that takes time.
We thank you for the journey. The imperfectly perfect journey. We send our hopes and our children into the future, the Land of Milk and Honey. We hope they will know and honor the labor and sweetness, of work and guard and holy, of promise and redemption, of honoring your name that has led us, honored us, protected us and chosen us, and allowed us to reach this day.
I Am Your God
Poet Rabbi
Leviticus 19: 1-18(?)
5/5/12
We are sacred. In God's image.
It takes us time to grow into this state of being. Sometimes we have to leave things alone, let them gestate, grow small, then bigger, then bear fruit, then offer this bounty to God, to abundance, to the dreams we all carry. THEN, after all that patience and gratitude, only then do we eat the fruits of the seeds we planted long ago.
We have rules to follow. Specific do's and don'ts, consequences and rewards, sorrows and joys, harshness, bitterness, and sweetness as we grow together, but the edges blur as we grow and we leave them be, for at the edges of our being are the outliers who haven't found their place yet, the pieces of ourselves we haven't yet accepted, haven't yet integrated, the strangers in ourselves and in our midst. We offer them (and us) the edges of our abundance, amid our fears and nightmares, our faults and demons, and we offer them -- individually and communally -- the opportunity to eat and be full, find their moment of plenty, hopefully shine our light by just leaving these edges for them, hoping they/we will find peace to heal hunger, comfort to counter shame, hope to challenge the moments of doubt, right action to transform what has come before that was misaligned.
And we stand together as sacred, in God's image, a community serving God, following and learning and discovering the actions and words that lead to holiness and joy, not reaching for every single last drop, but sliding into wholeness, happiness and contented, generous peace.
Leviticus 19: 1-18(?)
5/5/12
We are sacred. In God's image.
It takes us time to grow into this state of being. Sometimes we have to leave things alone, let them gestate, grow small, then bigger, then bear fruit, then offer this bounty to God, to abundance, to the dreams we all carry. THEN, after all that patience and gratitude, only then do we eat the fruits of the seeds we planted long ago.
We have rules to follow. Specific do's and don'ts, consequences and rewards, sorrows and joys, harshness, bitterness, and sweetness as we grow together, but the edges blur as we grow and we leave them be, for at the edges of our being are the outliers who haven't found their place yet, the pieces of ourselves we haven't yet accepted, haven't yet integrated, the strangers in ourselves and in our midst. We offer them (and us) the edges of our abundance, amid our fears and nightmares, our faults and demons, and we offer them -- individually and communally -- the opportunity to eat and be full, find their moment of plenty, hopefully shine our light by just leaving these edges for them, hoping they/we will find peace to heal hunger, comfort to counter shame, hope to challenge the moments of doubt, right action to transform what has come before that was misaligned.
And we stand together as sacred, in God's image, a community serving God, following and learning and discovering the actions and words that lead to holiness and joy, not reaching for every single last drop, but sliding into wholeness, happiness and contented, generous peace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)