Ponderings of my soul | Have you ever wondered?

Woman is a ray of God.
She is not that earthly beloved:
she is creative, not created.

– Rumi

The great divide is mending and in the process many feelings and thoughts arise, these I will share here on this page. In my sharing I come to know myself as well as those I still perceive as outside of me. Yet as the veil grows ever thinner it isn’t easy to maintain a grounded stability… For this I must return again and again to reverence for the Earth, and all the elements of creation from which our body vessels are composed.


“Love the earth and the sun and animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for stupid and crazy… hate tyrants… re-examine everything you have been told in school and church or any book, dismiss whatever insults your soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem…” 

— Walt Whitman


So long unaccustomed to the ‘sense of all within self’ that it has left me spinning through ever more vast undefined space. In all honesty at times this brings more discomfort than I would like and yet I surrender to this for it is a truth that I can do no other than let go.

My love affair with the mystical realms and truth has taken me to many lands of illumination and also deep within the fantasies of the subconscious world where monsters lurk and the snare has been carefully laid. A few days ago while floating in a deep well of meditation I saw the labyrinth, then a multi-dimensional game board, these metaphorical images have long played in my imagination representing the journey of soul through this time in space. Today another vision appeared, a rotating layered sphere of mirrors so that no matter where I looked I could only see the reflection of myself. At first it felt impossible to ever get out of the reflection, no matter where I let my vision go I could only see fragments of mirrors, everything a projection from me returning home.

I’ve spoken of this before and then it evaporated into the busyness of my life, into the continual stream of energies running through me, the conundrums and paradoxes once again collided and stirred up the occluding mud at the bottom of the well. Then these thoughts returned; Is not this imagery revealing the god-head, god creating to know god?  And are we not made in the image of god? It appears that all the writings of scripture from antiquity to our current day sages, be they scientist or guru, know that there is only One and All is but an emanation of this first creative impulse.

For my mind this presents quite a puzzle to unlock, here I am sitting at my kitchen table as the sun dimly lights the clouded sky, it rained unexpectedly last night and my wandering muse senses a connection to more than weather patterns, she senses a connection with the fountains of energy of those close to her, friends uniting consciousness in a field of pure love which continues to draw her ever further to sea.

I am dancing around the edge of saying what I want to say, it carries with it a preponderance of weight, of responsibility that threatens to strip away the final shreds of personality and personal desire, it distills all the fervor and passion into a single drop of a golden elixir. Here is where I struggle, going ever deeper into the miasma of dark twisted threads, the ones that bind and feed back to the system of death as life.

If and when one ever fully embraces the impact of ‘self realizing Self’ what comes with it is an absolute knowing that every thought, word and action is indeed creating reality. From this moment now I watch the mechanization of myself as I go through churn after churn on the wheel. There is a necessity of claiming one’s sovereignty which can feel like the battle of battles for when we step out of the main stream of collective human consciousness where we find ourselves standing against a strong current which will take it’s toll on our self delusions, on our spoken and unspoken deceptions, it will pare away the lies, the beliefs, and leave us standing naked and bare. Few survive this, often preferring to reinvent themselves as some other voice with an accompanying tone of authority that subtly puts them above and another below.

She wonders how she can stay in the world of false titans and war torn illusions, how can she bare the onslaught of destruction she sees approaching like a dark sandstorm that will strip away everything in it’s path, dust to dust. The dark side of Death has garnered it’s legions, swathed them in hatred and greed so that they no longer hear the beauty of the whispering wind; “This is Life, this is Creation, this is the field of all potential dreams” … she asks; “Why do you dream only of death thinking this is life?”

Your ashes and bones will become the ground from which the eternal will once again take root, she asks; “What fruit will you bear?” These questions are eternal ones, they are ever present and yet most minds are so wired to the programs of sociological indoctrination that they never cease their relentless chatter, like static on a radio the interference disallows one single focused thought flamed by the deepest heart’s desire, to know thyself as a single drop in the ocean of creation.

She returns to the image of the multilayered sphere of mirrors, it doesn’t disturb her and in her quietude she listens. Without a sound or disturbance the sphere begins to spin, faster and faster until all that is left is fluid, in perpetual motion around a central point of gravitational force, her consciousness. The corners of her lips turn up in a gentle smile, she knows not why nor does she seek to know why, it’s just a feeling that arises in her that she allows.

You see friends this dissolution of personal will imposed upon and over others is the very key to our true freedom, as the will is aligned with the Will of Creator we lose our confusion and desolation, this is the fountain head where the living waters of life circulate through us in accord with a divine harmony of such reverent beauty that our souls can barely contain it.


Another morning and the muse continues inner forming within this body a sense of balance, neither too exuberant nor too desolate. These last few weeks have brought up many feelings and with them moments of wanting to simply vanish from this plane, yet there is work to do, experiences to be had, the ones that can only be had within the body divine.


My place is placeless, my trace is traceless,
no body, no soul, I am from the soul of souls.
I have chased out duality, lived the two worlds as one.
One I seek, one I know, one I see, one I call.
He is the first, he is the last, he is the outer, he is the inner.
Beyond He and He is I know no other.

I am drunk from the cup of love, the two worlds have escaped me.
I have no concern but carouse and rapture.
If one day in my life I spend a moment without you
from that hour and that time, I would repent my life.
If one day I am given a moment in solitude with you
I will trample the two worlds underfoot and dance forever.


I would be remiss to not send waves of gratitude to those who inspire me by their sharing of images, of poetry, and from their depths, each in their unique ceaseless journey with opening hearts and translucent minds.