Archives for posts with tag: religion

My religion is the wind swept plains, the tea shared on rainy days with wordless joy passing between us. It is the pulse within me which finds the pulse of the universe as I find them the same. My religion has no beliefs but is filled with presence, and a joy that grows ever-bountiful. Like a hermit I live, and every moment with those whom I love grows more precious by the day. 

My heart is filled from a deep well from within as it’s waters never lessen or subside. I do not have to believe anything when what I know burns and flows with a power I just can’t tell. But I do wish the world could know this. But until then, I do the curious things we creatures do and find excitement in the simplest of things. This eternal flame of a presence contents me and rouses me to a new life.

I wish it were true that love is found in another, but this pulse of life that animates my awareness says this is not so. We must find this love first within us if we are to know it in another… for how else could we ever love them rightly, speaking such different languages which we want to call love. No, I must first overflow, be so enlivened and filled that it will ward me off from loves mistaken, loves that seek to take and make others responsible for what we truly each must find for ourselves. It’s been one of my latter realizations that I am here building a vibrant love inside myself so grand that its often hard to stand. But I do, and sigh into deeper folds of its mesmerizing wonder.

I am left utterly stripped of belief, and naked as I am, I am so much closer to the one that animates and guides. Listening quietly, I do wonder that if this is all there is, how grand that I may have just come to it, ready for the consummating kiss that is it’s promise made somewhere hidden in the folds of our bridal chamber.
I do not believe, but I bear the riches of the heart of religion. I have the temple without the priests. It is the deepest and most holy of the mysteries, and it is the only one you ever need to know to see how it alone reveals the rest. She bids me enter her most sacred of mysteries. She shows me where her lover meets her which is in the triadic chamber of my heart. No priests or priestesses, no law, no guess work. No prophets, no holy wars. No hymns, save my warm breath and yearning. No candles, save the flame of it all, and no opinions, no pronouncements in the deep chamber that is my soul knowing itself.

To love that the divine moves in you is no sin but sacred. To know beyond all dogma is a healing hand. With just a glance my whole life opens to it with no eventuality ever being just sheer chance. To honor the love that lives in me is to love and honor how masterfully I was made…and I do hope that you find this soon, too, so we can share Summer’s last fading light with tea and thunderstorms and the honor of pure religion flowing in our hearts.


No religions contain me.
I see religion in bird flight and water song.  I see the truth manifest in everything, even if it must be called religion.  For even there, yes, the truth cannot help but emerge potent, fertile, and alive -but here- in this world –  it is most often managed, clipped, and carefully trimmed, lest its great lusty power and love and wonder overpower those who have sought worldly power within its chambers and effects.  For whatever reason, we seek to lessen the life of the one true religions through lessening it in our created religions.  For reasons of control, ego, and hubris.For reasons of ignorance.  For reasons of forgetting.  For no good reason, really.

It is enough to rest the mind and heart upon mystery and let that great Way be the way that defines it all and informs the path.  Out of such voluptuous possibility does what we are emerge, and what we are is like some ancient religion before religion itself was born.  God waits for us before all religions, in all religions, waiting on us to know the contiguous truth in meaning that is at once a part of them and entirely independent of them…..but also in the sacred text of the atom, the bird, the wind and the spacing of the planets.

I am not pagan or orthodox, my religions is the word mystery unspoken and ineffable. I know that as I tease the stories out of its great circle I lessen it in a way and point in a direction other than it is, while still seeming to point within the circle.  My religion is the presence I bear, which none may enter and who none will know.  Mine is a pulse of passion that carries infinities and carries each home and reminds us why we are here.  “Mystery” it whispers in the ancient language.  “Mystery” it urges as flame licks each heart and soul, as like brush-fire its  presence spreads and becomes a living presence in each life and in each hand.

Even before I awoke to the flame lifting me and settling me deeper into my nature I knew mystery and reveled in it.  Before the foundation of earth was this mysterious religion alive in my soul and no foundation may contain it or define it nor seek to control or channel it.  Perhaps this is why it is just this strong, irresistible, beautiful, wild, free, and sure.  It is the only thing in my pocket and I may seem a beggar for how little I own.  But if I seem to own it, it is only that it owned me from the beginning. It resolves my vision into piercing lights, for when this penetrates the fog of unknowing, it brings gnosis into being.  Its very presence vibrates souls awake, is the essence of becoming, the sweet nectar of the heavens.  It is the great marriage of a force that moves and pulses through all life and being.  It moves through empty space and fills it, and the dance of the Two become One even in the broadest of ways which go beyond our effort or ability to contain or define.  What is in me is in all others and like an emissary from the light I am only here to remind you that this is so.  All it seems to ask is that you touch the beauty within you so that you may see the beauty in the universe.  We all resolve into searchlights and tender spaces waiting to be filled with that same light.

Mystery itself is not some generic, not some faceless thing, but is instead a face with countless faces.  It is all faces, all definitions in such wild profusion that it is like lions watching zebra running past.  they are so made to confuse the lion so all they see are stripes.  It isn’t that Mystery cannot be touched or known, but in touching it, you are only touching one point upon an infinity of them and seeking to define the earth by defining one spot you have grasped in your front lawn will hardly every do or reveal what is there in such utter profusion in its entirely.  No, there is this way to Mystery which is not about grasping but about letting go, of letting your hands rest open as all the earth of earth moves through them in an instant, as every river and ocean flows assuredly through your hands.  Everything that is is present as a distillation, a delicate wine made from starlight and toadstools and laughter and all that has ever been.  Consider how you can feel the Essence of All and there you will touch upon what this delicious Mystery is.  So as countless beings rest upon the rim of our world watching these past decades, assembling from all over the universe to witness this rare event, I am aware that we are not alone, and while they are quiet in their watching, they are themselves not entirely silent.  In the same way the flowers and trees tremble as they feel the power shifting on the planet.  What will happen?  What eventuality or probability will be chosen in a mass way?

How you come to it is your own story.  I know my own, and my own will bear my own journies’ essence.  I am my own, and what I have been defines what I am in still larger scales, and I am but one fleck within an ocean of golden flecks that dance like dust upon the light of the great infinite powers.  In being aware of the life that I share with All seems to make the difference and keeps me from only knowing myself as one and keeps me awake within my profusion, which quite naturally is just what this mystery is……and in that moment my soul comes closer to it like a lover bids one to be closer, to dissolve the divisions within the heart, to be simple like a child, and to forget all that defined the hurt of the past in order to realize some greater fulfillment.

In such places the future selves come in profusion.  I explained to my daughter the great mystery in how this happens and how amazing it all is.  In every life there are a profusion of lines which are parallel lives running alongside the one you know now but represent paths taken that you here in this focus do not yet know, but are just as valid as any other.  As one awakens, one feels the presence of the future self looping back to the old self in order to effect change and greater fulfillment in its own home channel or time.  Once it touches upon the past, it changes what exists in its present, and the future self becomes more than it was.  And through this interaction, the past self is also changed so that once the past self catches up with the future self, that past self is different from what the future self was when it sought to go “back’ into time to retrieve and inspire itself.  Endless possible presents are spawned in our moment from making changes in whether to go to the store now or later, to bigger more seminal moves, like where to go to school or whom to love.  All of these lines exist nonetheless even if we do not ourselves see them or know them, but it is possible to know them through the great profusion that is this Mystery.

The moment that Mystery is grasped, it becomes Phenomenon.  It cannot help but be this.  It is how it is.  Mystery is itself a great potential ocean of energy that IS manifest, but remains in its totality.  If there is to be any kind of “god” then this is it.  It is a great unnamable thing, itself aware and alive, but in ways beyond anything you might or could imagine.  It is the totality of the All and yet in that totality, it is more.  Many would lie to personify it, but there is no person as you or I would know or understand.  And yet, there is an approachable presence, its just that it chooses to be so damned profuse that it is in everything, IS everything.  It is like THE most advanced being there is, and who has situated itself into everything simply because it IS everything. It is the great cosmic busybody, alive and aware within every leaf, stone, star and smile.  Its volume is incomprehensible, but approachable, beautiful and wondrous.

There is simply no way to slap a bumper sticker or slogan or religion on that.

So I don’t even try.

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