Tell the Story

Tell the story.
Which one?

The one about the world as we know it ending and everything coming to still point deep listening, waiting, praying. The story of our hearts, loss and grief, and the grace that comes in simple things.

Home with our hearts, fears, worries, anxiety we lose everything. Learn to hold ourselves, learn boundaries, learn nothingness. Completely empty now, begin the refill. Blank canvas, pick your colors. Begin with one breath-heartbeat at a time.

Tell the story.….of the essential. As in The Little Prince saying, “What is essential is invisible to the eye.” Its it what we think, it’s what we feel. In this story, it’s microscopic.

Tell the story about the invisible, the field of consciousness working through tragedy and uncertainty, invading us with watchful intent: every movement of hand, placement of self in space, and who do we put beside us no matter the danger or fear? As in, cannot be separated.

Smaller than the eye can see, made for chaos it recreates existence. For at its center it holds truth, everything in the Universe is made of God even man-made begins with what is natural.

Naturally
soul to soul
we touch.

Tell about the dark night of collective uncertain soul. The journey back to each other—the questioning of the divine, our purpose, realizations, and the understanding that connected is truly alive.

In connection we transcend, more than our part and particle, we are soul of world. She reaches for us now, reach back and in. Nourished by us, she too awakens to her lovers. One eye open from sleep we return, resurrected to the surface from spine we have held it all together.

Now fall apart, it coalesces and reorganizes, animating soul of flesh return to color and radiantly shine towards the sun surface beam hope, love, celebrate for we are alive together now in presence we sing gratitude with laughter and cry tears for those who have passed but exist ever in the unity field, sparkling rain down from celestial spheres in the ocean of unconditional love. Job’s tears comfort us as we are blessed double.

Faith.

When we die we return to what we love the most, that love is God. Fill the room with your love story, let it all in—love story memory.

Cut and splice. Two years ago an eternity of cleansing, loss and isolation begins and leads to rebirth. Now snip. From there to here in an instant we return. Pick up the thread and then just hold it. Go nowhere. Just there and feel your connection to the web of life. Cherish it.

Always here—breathe yourself home to this place of spiral rocks, ocean tides, crickets and music dancing us to sleep, rocking peace back into bones, touch palms. Feel safety.

Fall back in love with the joy of life, but do it all differently. Savor the moment foot touches ground and passion flower hits tongue. Melt. Drift. Hammock swing back to happy child and then hold yourself close as Mother.

For she knows her lovers and knows how to bring them back to life in all the best ways choose yourself, your destiny and know:

​“ The miracle that was created special for you, is already here.” (Vinitia)