Author: Tom (Page 61 of 71)

Tom is a stroke survivor, a seeker, a meditator, a veteran firefighter and rescue tech, a motivational speaker, a poet, and a blogger (new site) & author. He is also the father of three and as their student and teacher, has found applying spiritual practices to all aspects of life provides a vast amount of possibility and abundance. Tom has discovered that true forgiveness is the key to a pure heart, and a pure heart can lead us to wondrous experiences.

You can also connect with tom on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Tomgwriter55/".

A Warrior’s (Writer’s) Prayer

May 28, 2013 / Tom

Ah, the night, that time when the mind refuses its call to slumber, that time when rants and raves fill the heart with a desire unique to the tortured soul. Alone we stand even in good company, tired and crestfallen in our belief that we are deserved of something more rather than openly embracing that which we have chosen to ignore. It is here I pray, and in here I find the answer.

I beg of you, be silent you tortuous bastard! Let the body rest and let my flower bloom. Let the stars align and remove the clouds that hide them from my eyes. Clear me a path to heaven’s gate and do not stand in my way. Allow me in, and let me make a mockery of it all with the snap of my finger as my eyes open and reality once again sets in. Let me know that in the great God’s absence I am the Creator, and let such blasphemy fall upon the ears and lips of those too afraid to step outside of their cave. Let the light be seen by all, and make such fear blow away with the clouds that keep me from my Moon’s sweet light, and my risen Sun.

Give me strength to press on even in the darkness of my illusion. Let me shine the only light I see into the frayed corners of these darkened rooms and under those places where I pretend to rest at night. Give me the power to fly above the valleys of my own creation toward those great heights that await me, and do not give me cause to rest when there is so much work yet to be done. Harden in me that which is soft, and soften in me that which has hardened.

Let words be my sword and experience be my shield. Allow me no safe passage where none exists, and allow me no safe harbor in those dry lands of my own design. Let me not pass my cup to others unless it is their will to quench a thirst of which I have no judgment. Allow my shoulders to be strong to carry the crosses I chose to bear, and allow my hands their strength to shed that wood that no longer serves me well. Give me strength to suffer in silence when I must, and the power of voice to scream a prayer when it serves the fires burning deep within my soul.

This I beg. Allow this warrior to not pass without his mark clearly stamped. Let not his body rot lest it feed a forest, or his blood be spilled lest it find a meaningful place to land. Make his sweat that holy water of legends, and his story a fabled treasure for those who have lost their drunken minds.

I accept it all with an open mind, an open heart and a waiting soul.

Amen.

Lessons Learned in Letting Go

May 25, 2013 / Tom

It felt good to let go, to watch her walk freely into the world on the path she had chosen for herself. Her smile was evidence of a just Universe, her life since then proof of something wonderful. Yes, beautiful things can come from the ugliest of places.

Letting go wasn’t easy for a man who loved her so. Her soul spoke to him in a language he had never heard before but, somehow, easily understood. His heart beat out her name not only in the most silent of moments but also in the middle of the storms they had created together. It was their minds, however, that could not reconcile to the music they were hearing.

He had become a willing student of observation and what he observed in the process of letting go was a formidable truth. He could see the tricks his ego would play on him, the anger his mind would create as a method of self-protection. He could also hear the requests of his heart and feel the pulsing glow of a love that was true from the moment he saw her. The choice, he knew, was his. He could listen to either.

What he believed she had done became irrelevant after a while, replaced by a simple belief that all things spoke a truth all of their own. What had bothered him as their minds battled one another wasn’t her, it was the truth that in the divine trinity of human love their minds simply were not meant for one another in this lifetime. He could love her deeply in his soul without hesitation. He could caress her in his heart for eternity. He could not, however, dance with a mind that was hearing a different song.

She was not wrong. She was not at fault. She was her perfect self whose mind danced to a beat of a song he could not hear. Her dance was perfect even if he could not follow the moves, and it was perfect even if he found it impossible to learn. As the dust swirled around him he lost touch with her soul and could no longer hear her heart beating in his chest and anger filled the vacuum. He was angry with himself, falling to the common ledge of self-loathing and doubt. He filled the void in the only way he knew how, and he could feel his mind and body slowly falling into the ego’s trap of fear. He began to resist everything, and in doing so he began to attract even more things to resist.

Life had taught him to observe, and it had also taught him the value of experience. He knew he needed this experience even if he could not say why it was necessary. So, he simply went where the currents took him and watched. He could see what was making him unhappy. He could see where the weakness was, and even if he decided not to change his condition in the moment, he was discovering the value of the experience. No tear was wasted, no moment of anger was spent in vain. He knew that one day he would tire of walking in shoes that never seemed to fit on a path that was either too rocky, too narrow or too boring for him to enjoy.

Sadness was created for the experience of joy. Once we experience sadness we understand the value of joy and we can choose which path we wish to take when presented with the option. This expression we call “life” is nothing more than a series of options given to provide us with experience, and we are the Master of our own destiny; the Creator of our own reality. We often fail to realize our own power as Master and Creator, but once we not only realize that power but observe it in action we begin to see the error of blame and judgment. As he began to observe his own dance and how perfect it was, he began to see hers as perfect too. As he began to see the value of his own independence, he began to see the value in hers. As he began to see the perfection of his own needs he began to see the perfection in hers.

What he discovered was probably the greatest discovery of his life up to that point. Letting go is not about forgetting. It is not about anger, or fear, or hatred. It is not about being wrong, or being right. It is about remembering. It is about love. It is about acceptance.

He had discovered that when one finally accepts himself he cannot help but accept others. He had discovered that when one finally loves himself he cannot do anything but love others. It all began to make sense to him finally. The Jesus of the New Testament did not command us to “love one another” for the neighbor’s sake, he did so for our own. He did not “so love the world”, he so loved himself that he could not help but love the world. All of it. Even the tax collectors. If we choose to see God as “Love”, then the Jesus written about certainly was God’s son sent to remind us that we are, too, Love’s children.

It seemed that what Buddha had found was not the rejection of attachments as a path to enlightenment. Instead, we find peace when we accept everything. That’s real love. Forgiveness is not an act of loving someone else despite themselves, it is in loving yourself despite yourself. Self-love is not a sin, it is a wise mastery of everything around you. Self-mastery is not about discipline, it is about acceptance. Forgiveness is nothing more than an act of acceptance, of love, and soon it all becomes one big non-thing.

It all becomes about selfishness. No, not the type your parents warned you about. Instead, this type of selfishness revolves around the focus on self. He had found that when he was happy he had great ability to make others happy. When he was not, he could ruin the best of moods. He began to see himself as the pebble and the universe around him as the lake. He could create ripples, and he could change the Universe around him with one thought translated into one action. He could ruin a field of bluegrass with one dandelion, or he could plant the daisies that brought the world to life. So he began to focus on self, to become more selfish, because his experience and his Universe depended on it. He began to see the meaningless of his human condition even if he wanted to experience it. He could choose which he would experience and which he wouldn’t, and as he began to change his mind, he began to change his world.

There is great strength in each of us, a great power that often goes unrealized in this experience. We don’t just use only 10% of our brain, we also seem to use only 10% of our power and most of that is often wasted on living in the dreams of others. You will begin to see this the moment you decide to be selfish and to take control of who you are and the life experience you are having. The Sun does not have such great power because it is trying to be the moon, and you will never find yourself in the hearts, minds, or opinions of another.

He could remember the moment he had found her soul again. He could feel her heartbeat once more when he closed his eyes and felt the silence all around him. He could see her smile and laughter in his mind’s ear and he knew everything was perfect. It was at this moment that, with a slight exhale, he let go. Not of her, but of that part of him that held on to the egoic ideal of what should have been. As the smile and laughter of hers blended into a smile and laughter of his own, he knew. He had let go of everything in that moment, a moment worth remembering.

If it is true that one cannot add to a cup already full, he was happy for the experience as he emptied his own. Experience is nothing if never exercised, so in letting go he also found the desire to move on. He had smelled the flower whose fragrance would forever remind him of possibility. A wave retreats to make room for another, and he had found the desire to splash in the surf again even if he would enter the water as if for the first time. With that he entered in the direction of the Sun a place greatly affected by the moon knowing that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Peace.

Jesus Must Have Changed His Mind

May 23, 2013 / Tom

Here I sit, my Bible in hand, trying to find that part where Jesus changed his mind. I look through Matthew. Nothing. I look through Mark. Nada. I search through Luke, still nothing. I get past John and, surprisingly, I still find nothing.

Given what I see from those who say they worship Jesus as “God”, I figure somewhere Jesus must have changed his mind. The book I was taught while suffering through Catholic school must have miraculously changed at some point since those lessons. I wouldn’t be surprised, after all the God of the book did all kinds of wild stuff, so certainly changing the entire text on which His superstition, er, I mean religion was based certainly could be done.

Yet I can’t find a single edit.

I can’t see where Jesus suddenly turned his back on the poor, calling them “lazy freeloaders” along the way. I can’t find that notion where the poor were put on notice that they were “on their own” to either starve or beg for mercy to some church as a part of their poverty. I can’t see where Jesus said that the wealthy were deserved of special treatment or any kind of hero-worship.

Nope, my book still says the wealthy will have a hard time getting into heaven. My book still has Jesus eating with the most hated of his society. My book still has him working to feed the poor without conditions. Hhhhhmmmm.

I can’t find where Jesus is pro-death penalty in my Bible. I can’t find where he condemns people to death for violating the laws of the land. I’m sure it has to be in there somewhere because, after all, the Christian part of our society seems strongly in favor of the death penalty. I must have to reread it all over again because certainly those who follow Jesus as Lord and Master could not be for something he was not.

I also can’t seem to find that part where Jesus seeks wealth. I can’t find the capitalist Jesus every conservative Christian seems to know. I look for the man named Jesus who worships money and puts nearly everything behind amassing wealth and power. I can’t find that Jesus though and I can’t find where he even held a job let alone created a company. I am fairly certain that the Americanized conservative Jesus would have had one of the twelve carrying a cash register while another of the twelve carried a sandwich board stating the prices for being healed. I think it’s also fair to say that Americanized conservative Jesus would have had a 501-3(c) as well as a Political Action Committee all at his disposal.

I’m also fairly certain the Americanized conservative Jesus also only raised the dead of the highest bidder. That’s the capitalist way!

Not to get on a tangent, but if the afterlife Jesus described was so wonderful, why did he raise people from the dead anyway? If I had died, was in heaven, and then was brought back by Jesus, I’d get off my stone slab and beat him with my shoe. I know, heaven didn’t exist until Jesus died…or something like that. Uh huh.

Ok, back to the gist of my thought.

I also can’t find where Jesus felt the need to have a weapon to protect himself. I do realize that anyone who can walk on water probably would have no need for a sword, but even when he could have used one he did not and commanded others NOT to use theirs. Certainly the Bible has undergone a Divine edit there. I’m sure it reads,

Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. ⁵¹With that, one of Jesus’ companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

⁵²“Give me that thing,” Jesus said to him, “we must defend ourselves against this terror.” And with that Jesus killed everyone save those who agreed with him, and the world was safe for capitalism and democracy.

The fact check is all done and, well, mine still says “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword.” No caveats, no conditions, just a simple statement of fact.

Yet, it seems conservative Christian America is addicted to our modern version of the sword. This conservative Christian America not only suffers from this addiction, and would not only draw the sword, but would also use it with reckless abandon despite the fact that God (or Jesus) did not sneak into our homes in the middle of the night and change the texts to be more agreeable their version of America. Of course he may have feared being shot.

Then there is our “War on Terror.” Our “War on Drugs”. Our imprisonment of more people by percentage of our population than any other industrialized country. Sexual repression and oppression. Guantanamo Bay. This isn’t even going back into our history of racial persecution, slavery, gender oppression, and slaughter of indigenous people.

It leads me to wonder what version of Christianity conservatives suggest we were founded on; the one Jesus lived in the story or the one they have created in their heads as their own. That’s an easy answer because the Jesus I have read about is nothing like the Christian conservatives of America. That is unless the only Bible not changed to fit their model of Christianity is the one I am reading.

I suggest we end this pretentious fallacy that this nation was founded on any version of real Christianity.

Real Christianity doesn’t exist, much like Jesus didn’t exist. No one has ever raised a person from the dead after days on a slab. No one has ever reattached a limb without surgery.

The greatest proof I have found that Jesus did not exist is Christianity itself. The greatest proof I have found that the God of the Bible doesn’t exist comes from those who say they believe in Him.

If Christians really believed Jesus existed and that everything in the Bible existed and was truth, they would have no need to defend their life and property. Gun sales would plummet because they are all on their way to that wonderful place in the sky Jesus talked about. Why defend a life here when something like heaven awaits you out there? Pass the wine and bread, I need a good buzz.

If Christians really believed they would not be so different than the Jesus in the Bible. They’d all be loving those liberal Arab hippies who are like Jesus. They’d all be washing the feet of others. They’d be eating with Democrats and hugging crack addicts. They’d be rushing into prisons to save the condemned, and they’d be loving the hell out of “terrorists”. There would be no cheers over drone strikes. There’d be no joy over the killing of anyone, regardless of their sins.

There would be, however, an awful lot of bruised cheeks, both left and right side.

After all, do any of us know sin-free Christians? If not, how can one of them throw the stone as Jesus asked? Ah, the devil is in the details, and the proverbial Jesus seems to have given conservative American Christians an impossible example to follow. Either that or Jesus certainly changed his mind about everything he taught since ascending into that board room in the sky. Whichever, it seems that despite some notable exceptions in history Christians have given up being like Jesus and have rather sought to make Jesus more like them.

What clearer failure can a religion endure than when the Master it is founded on becomes as irrelevant as a bumper sticker?

What surer failure can a religion find than when the teachings of its founder are less important than the wood on which it is believed he died?

I don’t mind if someone holds on to a rosary believing it will get them to some place that their actions could not. I don’t care if someone believes unreasonably that the world is only 9,000 years old. What I do mind is open hypocrisy on which we have to endure lecture after lecture and statement after statement from these misguided people who who I am is decided by what they believe. That’s when I mind.

So, stop with the nonsense that America is a Christian nation. Stop telling me how wrong gay marriage is and about how homosexuality is a sin. Stop telling me about the value of life when discussing abortion while you are hoping for the death of a convicted criminal. Stop with the clarifying statements that somehow reconcile your anti-Christ-like thoughts with the teachings of the story you pretend to believe in.

Harsh words, I know, but necessary to me nonetheless. I don’t apologize to those who find these words offensive unless they can prove me wrong. I welcome the debate, but please don’t start it out with how the earth was created in less than a week and how each and every woman I know owes me something for my rib. Instead, show me something tangible that doesn’t take a lifetime of conditioning and a lack of intelligence to believe. Do that, and I will apologize wholeheartedly and beg for forgiveness.

I Once Believed

May 21, 2013 / Tom

There was a time when I believed in something.

I believed that they were my family. I believed that I was their son. I believed that I meant something to them. I believed their words. I believed who I was to them. I was more than just some guy brought into their family. I believed I was loved. I found importance there, and I found meaning.

I believed that they were my friends. I believed that they liked me. I believed that they laughed with me and at my jokes. I believed they saw something in me even if I had not yet seen it in myself. I believed they had faith, that their smiles were genuine, and that their friendship was based on who I was. I found peace there, and I found importance.

I believed that she was forever. I believed that the scars would heal, that I would be “fixed” and she would forever be there. I believed in the power of love even if I had no real idea of what love was, and I believed in the imminence of forgiveness even if I was uncertain of how to forgive. I believed she could make the pieces whole, and that the power I had found in the beauty of her smile would make the dream real and the nightmare over.

I believed that I was broken. I believed that I needed them to fix me. I believed in the guilt that I felt with every breath, and the surety of failure that was my constant companion. I believed I needed them to show me strength, to prove my value, and to make me something more than I felt I was.

Yes, I believed. I believed I was nothing. I believe I was something the ground would tread on. I believed in the darkness and I only dreamed of the light. I repeated the mantra of weakness as I gave others power over me. I abdicated the throne given to me at birth, and I let others control the kingdom of my life.

I believed in them because I did not believe in myself. I needed them because I did not know who I was. I feared being alone because I did not know the awesome company I keep in myself.

Now, in their absence, in their denial, in their outright rejection I find a beautiful sunrise. I find health. I find peace. I find a strength unimaginable yesterday. I realize they are not gods, and that it is patently unfair to expect others to give me what I cannot give to myself.

Most of all, I find a love for me. I find a joy in being with me, and I find those things make me able to love those in my life without need for definitions, of roles, and of a commitment that neither feels right nor feels necessary. I find the power to be honest not only with those in my life, but with myself. I find a great acceptance of my flaws, of my strengths and of my humanness. I find my center easily because my focus is not diverted out there.

And I am happy. For the first time in my life I feel truly happy.

So, in some respects I am grateful their words were meaningless and their devotion unreal. I am grateful for the tremendous loss that has brought me here. “For I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.” I am happy to have sunk to the bedrock of my life so that I could find the truth there. I am grateful for the climb out of the pit, and for the fact that she was nothing more than a hollow promise that did not exist outside of a fantasy. I needed the loss, and I needed the pain in order to discover something far greater than I have ever known in my life.

So, in letting go I have found nothing to hold on to. I have found surety in the bedrock on which I once stood that showed me the beauty around me. The hug of my children. The truth in their words that come in the hallowed words “Daddy, I love you.” The ability to stand up for my truth regardless of what others would say or do. The indescribable feeling of sitting with my children in a “family sandwich” telling silly jokes until we simply can’t think of another word to say. Then we are still, as if on cue, the three of us simply listening to whatever direction the Universe sends us in. We can find great joy in our sandwich, and we can find great joy in our aloneness because we are not defined by any of it.

I have discovered that I am whole, and that I am a perfect being even in my imperfectness. I need not be fixed for there is nothing broken. Yes, I laugh out loud at the thought that I needed anyone to be fixed. Now my choices are mine and mine alone. I no longer need have faith in anyone even though I have found faith in many. I no longer need pretend and fake a smile in the storm of false accusations and innuendo. Let them throw their stones, for my choice is to smile purely into the heart of their anger and speak my own truth regardless of what they do.

There is love here…much love, and it is now directed in the right place. Yes, there is great promise here.

Love is NOT Within You

May 12, 2013 / Tom

Let’s face it. Love is not within you. It can’t be. To think that something as powerful as love can be contained by the flesh or defined by the boundaries of your skin is to not know love at all.

We may find love there…but in truth love is everywhere. It is behind you, above you, below you. It is you. It is not you. It’s in the sudden twitch of pain that we feel when the end comes. It’s in the joy we feel when we hug our children, in the sadness we feel when they no longer wish to hug us, and in the rebirth of joy when their embrace returns. It’s in the sunrise, the sunset, and the moments between.

You don’t exist. An idea of you exists, but you don’t. No, you are an idea posed to separate you from me, me from you, us from them. You are the idea created so you can find love, simply by looking within yourself, without ever paying attention to the fact that you only exist in love. You are nothing but dust without love. Love does not exist because you do, you exist because love does.

So, when you think you’ve found love after closing your eyes and meditating check yourself. If you can only find love in there, it isn’t love. It’s when you open your eyes and see love everywhere that you have truly found it. Then you no longer have to look within to find love. Love becomes you and you become love, and then you find that you and love are one in the same. Soon you see love in everything, and you realize that you no longer exist. Only love exists, and then you realize that you are the tree you are leaning on, and it is you. You become the ground you walk on, the grass you lie on, the fruit you depend on. When the Earth bleeds you bleed, and a mortal wound inflicted upon the Earth is a mortal wound inflicted upon you. You realize you are the stars, and they are you. You are the emptiness of space and the matter that gives space life. You are the eternity of the cosmos and the limitless potential of the smallest spark of energy. You fail to see failure, and you define success one breath at a time.

Life no longer means living. Joy is no longer defined by sadness, happiness is no longer defined by suffering. Wealth is no longer measured in currency or things, but by the very essence of who you are. Your skin ceases to be the boundaries of who you are. Your story ceases to be written and your song is no longer sung even as your endless book is opened and your music is heard. You begin to know so much more than you were ever taught.

You close your eyes to sleep but you remain awake. You can see the truth in the lie, the laughter in the tear, the life in the death all around you. You see the tiny sprout poking through the hardened lava and the dove returning through the darkened storm clouds. You can embrace it all because you hold on to none of it. You are always home despite never residing within any walls.

There is no within you because when you look there you are actually look way out there. There is no self except in the mind you’ve created to keep yourself in pieces. Be in love, and never forget who you are.

Peace.

Removing the Shackle

May 11, 2013 / Tom

Ever just want to scream something so ridiculously crazy that the world would just have to sit up and take notice (I was thinking “I love you” would do the trick)? Ever just want to hug the stranger next to you in such a way that they had to hug you back?

Ever just want to not eat until some idiotic wrong was righted in the world? Ever just want to stop alongside the open highway and climb that rock face that is taunting you as you drive past?

Ever wonder where the shells that you hide under were created? Ever wonder why you say “I’ll start tomorrow” the very thing you want to do now?

Who the fuck put this shackle around my leg?

Right. I did. Sure, someone else may have handed it to me. Someone else may have even taught me how to put it on. Yet the fact that I am still wearing it is all my choice. If there is a lock on it, I put it there and I can remove it. All it takes is resolve and the simple choice that I will not be tied to this place any longer. Then I have to actually bend down, remove the chains, and freaking fly.

Put down your chemical weapons, the ones you use to assault your mind and body daily, and dance freely in your insanity. Throw away your bricks and mortar, the very means you use to defend yourself against shadows, and actually risk being free. Stop seeking protection from the “powerful” and realize your own power. Stop giving others the power that you were granted as a birthright into this physical world. Make them responsible for themselves and give yourself the choice to live. Hug your lover. Make love in the rain and don’t stop until you simply cannot move. Kiss your lover in the middle of a city. Hug her in the throes of an argument. Do the unexpected. “Be notorious!”

I, frankly, am sick of being my own version of the status quo. I’m sick of the rules. I’m sick of being told fucking is a dirty word and that there is a process to everything. I’m tired of walking in the direction the signs tell me to, and I’m sick of being told where to stand and where I am permitted to stop. I’m fed up with borders and nationalities. I see much more order in chaos than I do in the mundane assimilation of my soul to someone else’s way of life.

I will live in honesty and truth not because it is expected of me, but rather because it is who I am. I will live debt free because to owe is to be enslaved. Once I have filled in a hole it will never be dug into again. I will relish life in its simplicity, and I will love hard and die when the time is right. You will not scare me. You will not deter me. You may hate me but you will never change me.

I will not fly a flag or worship a statue. I will not follow your silly superstitions and I will not fear the tales you tell. Demand I bend to your lash and I will stick it up your ass. I will not honor the manly creation of God or the Godly creation of man. I will simply experience, and I will climb the rocks I choose and hike the trails that call my name.

There, shackle removed. Your turn.

The Fragrance of Love

May 11, 2013 / Tom

He could smell her still in the depths of each breath he took. The sweet fragrance would cause his eyes to close, bringing her into view in the only place she could exist for him. There he could not touch her, or speak to her, or see the tiny chills run up her back when he touched her but he could feel her presence just as he always had. She was there even though she wasn’t, and he could feel her even though he couldn’t.

The fragrance of love never changes even if the flower that gives it life is born anew. You open your heart like a flared nostril and fill yourself with life, exhaling only with the sheer anticipation of being caressed by that fragrance once again. You hold her tightly to your chest to take her in. You gently brush the hair from her face as you draw the lines on her body that her soul commands you to draw. You are as free as you can be even in the gentle strength of her embrace and you know. Her flesh was made for you as surely as yours was made for her. There you smile and bask in that wondrous paradise we call ecstasy, and you reside in that glorious place we call Heaven.

For those of us who have smelled the fragrance of love we know we shall never forget it. We may never find the flower again that sets our racing minds to rest, but we are purely grateful for once watching the flower bloom and sharing in its beauty. We can still find awe in the rising of the Sun. We can still bathe in the beautiful river whose currents once took us to the very fields of Eden. We can still have the fragrance of love wrap around our hearts and bring us to the greatest joys even in the smallest events. That is the thing about such a flower. It is better to have held it and let it go then to have never held it at all.

Our experiences bring us to different places in our present moment. We may find the greatest of strength in the depths of weakness. We may find the wonders of success in the bleakness of failure. Regardless of where we are, we are all blessed in having the choice of creation, and we are free to make the choice as to which blessing we want to have. I stare at the hand that once held the flower and I hear her voice in the deepness of my sleep; my choice being to appreciate that summer moment as well the winter that froze the pedals in my fingers. Spring is here, and with it a new promise of finding that flower once again.

Some seedlings will blossom and others will not. I am but a searcher in those fields of possibility, dancing among the springtime sprouts and laying on the fertile soil where I have chosen to rest. I cannot pretend, and I cannot be any less than who I am because I carry with me the fragrance of love never forgotten and never washed away. I have known this, and I cannot close my eyes to this truth and pretend it never was. Like the brightest star in the evening sky that fragrance guides me, and although I do not know what I am looking for, I will know when I find it.

For now I whisper a solemn oath only the butterflies will hear as I marvel at the power of the truth I have found. The deafness of the caterpillars who have not yet tasted the flower contrasts with the miracle of flight in those transformed; the worms themselves searching for a place where they, too, may take flight to the heavens above.

There is one truth that remains in a life lived in a dream. My potential lies in the realization of what is possible. What is possible lives in the realization of my potential. You must, my friends, find a sturdy branch on which to place your chrysalis. You must make the holy choice to follow your experience to that place where it sets your heart to beating. You must see yourself as the only obstacle to your greatness, and know that fragrance within you for all of its worth. Dance forever in the fields of possibility and realize that you will never know the limits of your potential until you have created them.

Good night, my love. I will find your shortly in my dreams.

A Terminal Lesson: Air Travel Gurus

May 1, 2013 / Tom

I feel myself involuntarily exhaling as I enter the parking garage at Philadelphia International Airport for yet another flight and another set hassles that will test the very fiber of my existence. Air travel is a remarkable adventure where we are somehow convinced to exercise the abnormal as a means of normalcy.

Where else would we actually pay hundreds of dollars for inconvenience after inconvenience? Air travel sees us pay a high price to, at least in Philadelphia, struggle to find decent parking. Imagine if a salesperson told you, “if you pay me, I will make you drive all over the place for that one treasured spot that may or may not exist anywhere near where you need it to.” Would you give him your money? Or would you slam the door in his face and never answer a call from him again?

Then imagine I, as that remarkable sales person who tried to sell you a parking spot that did not exist where you needed it to, also said to you, “If you pay me hundreds of dollars, I will make you get to my place of business hours before you need to, and then I will make you stand in a long line for the privilege of being searched. For your business, I will not guarantee happy employees, or courteous service anywhere along the line. You will, most likely, be faced with rude service people, bossy employees, and other patrons who are frustrated like you.” What would you say to me as that salesperson?

I’m still not done with you though as this wonderful experience is not yet over. After you deal with those wonderful long lines, I then had you hike a mighty hike just to get to the product you paid for. Once there, you would likely have to face even more discourteous employees just to stand in another line that will end with your ass being crammed into a rather uncomfortable seat that was likely installed before you first voted. What would your impression of my product be? Would you deem it as something you’d want to buy?

I haven’t even gotten to the part where, after you’ve paid me hundreds of dollars, I make you walk into eternity to get a bag you’ve entrusted me to get to your destination. I’ve also forgotten to read to you the disclaimer that says your bag may not even arrive as I told you it would. You’ll stand there for an interminable amount of time waiting for something that did not arrive as promised. Do not fret though, I will deliver it to you once (and if) it actually shows up. Just please don’t forget to tip the guy who made it all perfect by dropping off the bad at some ungodly hour of the night.

Yet despite it all here I sit on that uncomfortable seat yet again wondering if the executives at US Airways actually fly their own airline. If they do, I doubt that they have our experience while doing so. I was wondering aloud while waiting in the first long line of the day if the people who run Philadelphia International Airport actually use their own airport. I wondered if they actually have to use the same parking as the rest of us do. I wondered if they had to wait in line like the rest of us have to. I wondered if they had to deal with the same angry-acting employees that we all seem to run into.

I really doubt that any conscientious employee could use this service they sell and actually think it is worth what they charge. I sincerely doubt that anyone who runs the airport believes they are doing the best that they can. I really could not fathom that the executives at US Airways believe they are providing the best service they can for the price. In fact, I had this funny thought that the people who run PHL must use a small airport when traveling or, at the very least, have some special privileges that get them from having to experience their product like the average traveler does. It’s why nothing really changes, similar to the reason our Congress is the fucked up delusion is has turned out to be.

I even had this rather humorous vision (to me anyway) that the executives at US Airways charter flights in order to avoid having to use a competitive airline. They certainly don’t use their own airline or, at the very least, they don’t get to experience it the way the rest of us do. I’m sure the same asshole at the gate counter I saw this morning smiles and acts all kinds of wonderful when his boss goes to the front of the line and sits in first class. I’m sure that rude, disgruntled employee who treated the woman in front of me with such utter disrespect is all polite when a boss is around. Obviously that employee is being rude to the wrong people, he needs to be rude to his bosses that make his life so miserable and nicer to those who are using his airline and sharing in his misery.

There is one saving grace though. The flight attendants are awesome. I imagine they have the same misery the rest of their company shares (except, of course, the executives) but they seem to find a way to smile through it. They do what they can to make up for the experience we are having, and I have always applauded them. I’ve always believed that if any employee of an airline should be miserable it is the flight attendants, yet here is another in a long line of crews I have met smiling, serving, and trying to make this experience one that I won’t totally dislike. Yes, I will take a bottle of water. Thanks for asking politely. Thanks for smiling. Thanks for serving.

That leads me to the real point I am trying to get to here. There is a reason I am sitting in a seat that won’t recline after dealing with rudeness, inconvenience and having my atmosphere invaded, smiling and happy. Although it may seem I’ve focused on the issues of air travel I promise you I am merely describing the reality of air travel as I’ve experienced it. What I’ve chosen to focus on is the practice of keeping “who I am” during the challenges of the day. I choose to stick with my higher vibrations while standing in the first long line. I even told a few jokes to people around me that got some laughs even from those who seemed miserable before I decided to humor myself. The line moved along and I moved along with it. That happy mood followed me into the other long line and into the actual security area where I again went with the flow. As I approached the place where my privacy was to be invaded, I took off my shoes and stood there barefoot. I decided to focus on the feel of my feet on the carpet, then the tile. Yes, I believe I can create the place where I stand into a happy place, and that I did. I even caught myself smiling as I walked into the scanner. I focused on the fact that this process is there to make me as safe as can be expected miles above the planet, so I was happy to go through it. More importantly, I was happy all those around me had to go through it. So, yes, I smiled.

I guess my penis, rectum and everything else checked out safe because I breezed on through. Now, I am sitting on my uncomfortable seat listening to the flight attendant telling jokes. He’s really quite funny, and although most of the people around us have chosen to sit in their misery and ignore his attempts and humor, I’m laughing as I try to decide between water or coffee. I’ve chosen water, and he suggested ice. Thank you, funny man, in so many ways.

I’m also happy I’m writing. Sure, in this cramped space it looks like I have forearms coming out of my rib cage, but I am writing. So, do I want to focus on the cramped space or do I want to focus on the fact that I am writing? I’ve chosen to focus on the fact that I am writing and, yes, that has made me smile. I’m sure I will find happiness in this as long as I choose to, or at least until my hands become numb. That may change my focus, at least for a little while.

The beautiful thing about free will is that it allows us to make choices that directly impact our experience. We are free to see things as we choose and free to change our minds at any time. When my hands grow numb I will see that as a bad thing. Maybe. Perhaps I will see it as a signal that it’s time for me to read, or do some other variance of work-related things. Perhaps I won’t see it as bad at all but rather another in a long line of experiences that influence my present moment. Maybe I won’t judge it. Whichever I choose, it is a choice that I am free to make regardless of what mom and dad taught me about it. I am free to see things as I want, in the way I want. How awesome and powerful is that??!!

Free will is not really “free” though when viewing it in the “currency” mindset. It comes at the direct price of your experience. Believe me, if you choose to be miserable and to focus on the negatives of this experience there is a price. You will be negative and you will be miserable, and that will attract misery and negative experiences into your life. If you choose to focus on the positives and choose to be happy in this experience the price you pay is that you will have a positive and happy experience while attracting positivity and happiness into your life. You are completely and utterly free to make that choice, and either one is the perfect one for you until you’ve decided it isn’t Then, you are free to make another. You are free to go through this life mindlessly or you are free to go through it mindfully again regardless of what mom and dad taught you or what some preacher says from a pulpit. You are free to write your own book in any way you wish just as you are free to live your life according the book someone else has written. Either one is a valid and perfect choice, even if you have no idea of the power you have when you make it. And yes, you have that power in each and every aspect of your life’s experience.

With that in mind I’ve chosen to make experience my religion and I work daily to experience this life through my own “eyes” and not the experiences of others (like living religiously through a bible which is, in essence, a written experience of someone else). I’ve chosen to make action my prayer. I never ask for anything when praying despite what my past conditioning has taught me. Instead, I either state an intention (as in praying for someone else’s well-being) or do something. I don’t ask for peace, I become peaceful. I don’t ask for an end to hunger, I feed someone. I realize to some that asking is, in fact, an action, but to me asking is nothing more than trying to get someone (or something) to act for us.

It has been said that experience is the best teacher. If that is true, then it must be the best religion. Look at my experience today. I’ve found that I want to be happy, so I did things to make me happy. I didn’t ask for happiness, I acted in ways that made me happy. Even as I just looked outside my window to the ocean miles below me I didn’t ask for safety. Why? Because I have no control over it, and I doubt highly that there is something out there who views my safety as either necessary or something of concern. If I am to plummet to Earth then so be it; it must be an experience I need to have before I have the experience of leaving this place, so maybe it would be the ultimate practice of surrender and choice. Hhhhhmmmm.

Well, my hands are starting to cramp. I hope you’ve chosen to enjoy this sharing as I have enjoyed my choice to write it.

Feel Me

April 24, 2013 / Tom

“Imagine,” she says, “my arms around you, my tongue tasting you, my heart beating next to yours. Imagine the wildness in my eyes, the beast escaping my parted lips as we embrace in the wilderness of love’s sweet creation. Imagine the calm roughness of it all, the sweat pouring from our brows and mixing there, in that infinite field of pleasure we call “us”.

I can feel your body in my arms, my love. I can hear your sweet breath in my ears as you whisper those sacred passages uttered from the deepest parts of your soul. It is not my ears that hear, or my fingers the feel, or my eyes that see. Something else is guiding me toward that part of you no one else can see.

Give that to me, my love. Discard the burrs and thorns you have collected as you made your way here. Throw away the shields you have created to keep yourself basking in the illusion of wholeness. Open up those once-closed arms and let me nestle beside you, in you, around you. Feel that warmth of the Sun rising within you and the waves rushing around you. Feel the sudden coolness as my touch inspires you to find new heights and seek new pleasures. Do not think, but feel. Know your thoughts as passing clouds and realize your feelings are the breeze that pushes them away. Experience this and make it your religion. Know this and worship at the altar of Love.

Forget your body as the water flows out of you. Let go of your senses and know them to be the essence of Heaven making Itself known. Bathe me in who you are, and let me kiss away the scars as you drop your guard forever. Be true to that thing called “us”, and know that there is truth in what you feel in your Mindfulness Reach out for my hands and they will answer you. Claw at my back and hear me beg you for more. Let me taste you in your moment of glory and let me forever be found in those enlightened spaces. It is there that I will shine, and it is there that you will know who I am.

Your Warrior has come for you, and in the bare nakedness of our Beings we have found each other. It is not the flesh that beckons us to climb. It is not the mind that begs us onward. There is no spoken word where we stand. Rather, you will know me in the chills that run up your spine as I trace the contours of your breasts. You will know me when you feel the hardness of my desire enter you. You will know me when you close your eyes and feel the tingle starting as I beg to take a drink.

Truth is found in those moments where body, mind and soul dance together in perfect harmony. Imagine that moment when our bodies scream in pleasure as our souls splash and dance in the puddle our melting minds have created. Imagine the perfect synchronicity of our rhythm as we move together. Imagine the throbbing of our flesh in the moment we see the sparkle in each other’s eye. Then feel it. Feel it with all of your heart and make it known that feeling is the truth. Then the fog will lift and we will see each other, as the there and then become the here and now.

I am waiting for you, my love. With impatient patience I am waiting for you to crest the summit and smile in my direction. I am waiting for the lust you inspire in my heart to become the truth of our souls. I love the journey I have taken and the place I stand now because it all is leading to you. I honor the health and the scars, the wins and the losses, as words written leading to that chapter where you are waiting. I read my story with a smile because you are in it even if I haven’t gotten to that part yet. When I do, the words will flow like beads of sweat from our enraptured skin. We will find it all in that space we call “us” and in that moment we call “now”.

Take this place we are in now and cherish it as the path that leads us to that first real embrace. See the Phoenix rising above the once burning pages of this experience, and see me, the Lion, smile forever adoring the time he has spent with you. Know that as I wrote this your voice was in my mind and your essence was swirling around in the green-hued center of my Soul. Know that I do not know your name but I do know who you are and I will recognize you when the time is right. Know that as the pages turn to that place where our stories combine that we are not writing fiction. Know that I am smiling right now as I can feel you, that unknown hand outstretched as a respite from a journey hard-fought and well-taken. As you read this at some time in some place not yet seen know that I am as sure of you as you are of me even in the throes of complete uncertainty.

Perhaps we have met. Perhaps we have gazed into the starry sky together and felt the pulse of life around us. Perhaps we have never seen each other. Neither of us can be sure, but certainty will be the gift we receive the moment it becomes available. There we will float hand-in-hand in the River of Life, eating of the same fruit and dancing in the wilderness among the trees we have planted.

Be well, my Lover, I am here. There is little doubt when hope becomes real, or when a prayer is echoed in our footfalls and answered in the intertwining of our fingers. Be there, even now, and find me there. Be still and find focus for the mist will burn away in the glow of destiny. Find your truth and stick to it even when the lightning and thunder of a world gone mad distracts you, and when the winds steer you off course know that you can always look within and find that star that will guide you home.

Walk well, and in the most still of moments hear the rush of the ocean beyond what you can see. Rise up and pick the fruit off the trees that bend their branches to you. Take off your shoes and feel the Earth hug your feet. Slowly drop the threads that hide you from me until, as our paths cross, we both stand naked to no one but each other. You will, there, find great pleasure in the tip of my tongue, the movement of my fingers, and the hardness you crave as the ecstasy seems too much to bear. We will bathe in the torrents as the rains bathe the dust from our skin and clothe us in a new reality. Come, know it all and be prepared to scream your prayer as unintelligible words to an unknown god. They will be answered.

That is Love

April 7, 2013 / Tom

The beads of sweat stung his eyes as his breath tried mightily to meet his demand. He was exhausted, the pain in his body screaming in utter delight, the strain on his mind battling his will like a champion slayer.

Then he heard it. Her voice entered the furthest reaches of his Universe. That whispered breath breathed life where none could be found, and gave him strength when he thought for sure he had been beaten.

That is love.

We drag ourselves through thicket and thorn, through peril and pain, through hell and high water at the beck and call of an indescribable spark that is not created by us, but in us. We scale tall mountains, overcome deep-seated fears, and battle demons that once appeared invincible and merciless in search of that cool whispered voice that reminds us of who we never thought we could be. We find ways to overcome and to bear the weight of the crosses of our own design just to spend a moment in the cool spring sunlight or to feel the refreshing rain upon our skin.

That spark, that whisper, that rain; that is love.

Ask what we feel when we are in the presence of our Lover and words escape us. Ask what it is that truly inspires us to rush by her side when she calls, or to face our fears with such reckless abandon and we will sit in silence trying to find the answer. Ask what it is that truly turns us on about our Lover and we will stutter and stammer our way to something that only makes sense to an idiot.

That absence of language, that silence, that inability to think; that is love.

Nothing reminds you of the beauty of your Lover than her absence. Nothing reminds you of the awesome taste of love than those periods of separation from it. Nothing reminds you of the comfort of your Lover’s hand in yours then when your hand is empty. Nothing reminds you of the refreshing breeze of love then when that air is stagnant.

That is the love of aloneness. It is a time when you can remember, a time when you can truly cherish the Lover who is waiting for you. Be patient and she will come. Be honest and she will see your truth. Be real and she will know your reality. Find peace in your aloneness and you will find peace in your Lover’s embrace.

That truth, that reality; that is love.

We often focus on what love is not. We focus on the fear of our loneliness. We focus on the absence of another. We focus on the loss. We focus so much on the weeds that we begin to hate our own beautiful, bountiful garden. We seek to fill the void with such devotion that we only deepen it. We forget who we are because we lose sight of our Selves and, in turn, only remember who we are not.

That aloneness, that garden, that focus; that is love.

When she comes we are not ready. When she arrives we are unkempt, unprepared and unfocused. We will love false prophets in our mess, and we will lose sight of her. Gone off into the fog she disappears, and often we never knew how close she was. We get lost in the sea of desire, of false needs, of bitter fruit and forget the sweet taste of the nectar that is truth. A false hand in our own does not make it full. A bitter taste in our mouths will not satisfy our true hunger. We will cry out in the night for her but she will not come; our heart is already full even if we feel its emptiness.

She will come when you are ready. Prepare now as if you are preparing for a guest of your highest importance. Pick up the trash that is in your mind. Sweep clean the dust and debris that clutters your heart. Bring sweet fragrance into each corner of your Being. Sit still in patience enjoying the space you have created in what you are, and wait. She is coming and she is looking for that place you have created.

That cleanliness, that space, that sweet fragrance; that is love.

Your work now is in preparing. Close the doors of the rooms that are clean and do not return. Free yourself from the bars and chains of your own design and fly free through the air. Dance readily in the open fields and find the absolute truth within you. Do not look outside, stay inside. Do not fear companionship but do not need it either. That is when you know you are free, when the need vanishes. Do not fear your empty hand but rather fill it with a tool of creation. If you are a sculptor then sculpt. If you are a carpenter then build. If you are a writer then write. If you are a Lover then love until your truth is revealed to you in the glory of a tingle that invades your spine.

You will know your Lover because her language will not be in words. Your heart will beat her song. Your skin will rise in her presence. Your breath will be stolen from your chest. Her lips will taste like the juices of heaven. Her embrace will embolden you. Her touch will show you to the gates of Heaven until you finally enter that paradise. There, you will need for nothing, ask for everything, and receive all that you have asked for.

That song, that taste, that sweet place of God; that is Love. Stay in that place, and let not Earth or hell steal it from you. Melt into her, and allow her into you. Stay there, always, and find no place you else you need be. Be present and remember. Love your Self and remain free.

That is Love, and that is where you belong.