Across The Bridge And Thru The Woulds

And NOW for today’s epic shimmy through the eye of the needle.  Ya know what I mean?  …Or must I spell it out?  Well, I suppose if you already knew everything I was gonna say, I wouldn’t need to spell out a single word.  I would just be a bus driver, or a garbage collector and be done with it.  Wow, I’d make such a luscious garbage collector… in shiny red stilettos… Ahem.  So what I mean is– that the world inside me has more facets and dimensions than the the immensest diamond in the mind of God.  And this blank page of potential is the eye of the needle.  Reaching inside and feeling for what is most electric and raw and ripe…  that’s the job of the writer, proclaims Athena Grace, as a smile spreads her face wide with glow.

 

Inhale.  Exxxxxhale.  I feel dull today.  Dull and introverted.  I sorta wonder why.  I think it has something to do with my recent visit to Reno to visit my dad.  I often forget about the nuanced depths of the unconscious mind… I guess I get easily seduced into the captivating dazzle of all that I see out my eyes and feel in my body NOW… the overt weave of dreams and fears and ignited, soulful aspirations… I forget that the lotus thrives because its root sucks secret nutrients from the dark, unknowable, rich ness of slimy, muddy depths.  Slimy, muddy depths.  I think they got stirred in Reno.  And now I’m not a prismatic, holier than thou vessel of seeming purity.  I’m a glass of baffled mud.  Shrug.  Not much I can do about it, except BE HERE.  So I’m being here.  It’s sunday.  Usually on sunday mornings I dance myself inside out… unless I’m out of town or dead.  But today I showed up to dance… and nothing could make me move.   Everything inside lovingly hissed, “fuck this”.  So I left.  And went home and sat in like a perplexed, oversized potato on my bed.  Now it’s hours later and I’m still a baffled potato.  But I figured I’d at least open the pearlescent gates of my mind and allow strategic letters of the alphabet to scamper single file out of me in hopes of stumbling upon something of myself previously unseen.  Awe, that sounds so deep.  But maybe I don’t want to be deep.

 

Well first order of business is that my mom oft makes fun of me for using the wrong spelling of a word here in Athena Graceland… for example saying, “I want to go live in a log cabin in the woulds”!  Ha!  That’s funny.  No wonder it cracks my mom up.  She says “awe” is the wrong kind of aww.  Hahaha.  I’m tickling myself.  Trying to language this topic is like sumo wrestling the FAT-ASSED externalized authority that is mostly held hostage in a sexy stone tower somewhere in the enchanted northern hemisphere of my brain.  But I’m up for it!  And besides, if you had the choice of spelling “aww”, A-W-W or A-W-E, which one would YOU chose?  Awe, right?  Hands down!  Because awe= an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, fear, etc., produced by that which is grand, sublime, extremely powerful, or the like: in awe of God… what’s NOT to love about reaching in your magic hat and seizing a fist full of THAT?!  Except for the fear piece… I didn’t know that awe could be an overwhelming feeling of fear.  In fact, screw that.  I’m gonna flat out disagree.

 

And now, ladies and gentle men, for the TURNING POINT of this blog, where all of my words become psycho-emotionally caloric and super-charged with meaning!

 

Shards of rainbow are wobbling languidly about the interior of my domestic slab of existence.  It’s nearly four pm and the indian summer light… wow… speaking of caloric!  I feel like I’m a seahorse sized mermaid in a rectangular aquarium filled with an exquisite strain of liquid light.  You might imagine me to be but a girl crying wolf as I profess to be rolling up my sleeves and driving at some sort of weighty essential core of this blog… but the fact that I really am a miniature mermaid habitating in a human sized tank of light and rainbows is the perfect prelude to my impending assertion that it is FULL ON, as we prance collectively into the final, waning moments of twenty twelve.  And I live how everyone is so casual about it!  We’re acting like it’s always been this way, and it’s hella normal. Which, in a way, it IS… But mostly it’s totally NOT!  Listen, I’ve always been the token mouth puker-inner, when someone signs their email, “love and light”… Because COME ON– it’s SO repulsively new-agey.  You might have mistakenly put me in the “new agey” box… but “your bad”… cuz I’m not.  Just cuz I happen to have a delicious glow of contemporary Jesus-i-ness, does NOT make me new agey.

 

BUT WHO CARES ABOUT ME, what I’m driving at, is that the dawn has COME and the technicolor rising of love and light on the horizon of our collective consciousness is so striking and overt at this point that one must call a spade a spade.  Wow.  Not only was that a robustly poetic and dazzling thesis statement, but Wonder Woman, was it SO TRUE.  Something IS dawning inside of us now.  I feel it surging like a broken damn through the bloody birth canal of my own being… and as well, I see it, smell it, feel it, taste it EVERYWHERE.  I can’t leave the house without spotting someone sporting a “LOVE” t-shirt.  And I don’t just mean one of my fellow new-age-freak-holes. I mean even the most unsuspecting ghetto-bootied oakland chick, chillin on her twilight picnic blanket, daintily lifting mc donald’s fries to her drippingly glossy mouth with fingers donned in neon acrylic nails longer than london bridge.

 

And just log on to my Facebook page– everyone is saying the most enlightened things… incessant exclamations of gratitude and love and deep care for this world and all of its inhabitants.  You’d think we were all the second coming of Buddha or something.  Oh wait, we ARE.  But we finally are realizing it.  And it’s cool how natural it seems.  Nobody seems to be making a big deal of it… Like “of course were God”.  Grin.  Like how night melts into day so smoothly that suddenly the darkness is nowhere to be found and the sun is blinding you and it ain’t no thang.  That’s the magic of dawn.  That’s the grace imbued in nature and time and cycles.

 

Oh crap, I’m ready to end this blog, and I don’t feel like groping around in the uncharted reaches of my asshole in search of the most fluid, intelligent exit.  My departure feels reminiscent of attempting to leap off of a speeding train.  Well I’m gonna leap!  And land in a soft, benevolent wash of love and light (wink).  Here I goooooo…. But I shall leave you with this entirely true declaration–

 

Reading these words, you have crossed a bridge.  By the Sacred Power vested in me, I now pronounce you WIDE AWAKE and eternally blessed as an innocent and perfect child of God.  I’m serious.

 

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Can I Get An AMEN?!?!?

And finally, Sunday hath cometh! And Athena doth goeth unto church! Ha! I’m gonna start speaking biblically on the Sabbath from now on. Just kidding, that would take way too much effort to sustain, but it’d sure be a holy kick in the pants, and at the end of the day, what matters most is not how much money you make, or how many TVs you have…but how many times you’ve been kicked in the holy pants. True or true? (When I say “true or true”, I am poking fun at the Millionaire Mind Intensive… kicking my own holy pants, as I am often compelled to do, because life without pants kicking is NOT a life worth living, if you ask me. I can’t help but glean amusement from motivational speakers who are both truly inspiring and positively evocative, but also way too amped up, as though they are on some rare and delectable strain of methamphetamines. Everywhere I go, I study leaders, take secret notes for when it’s my turn to step up and shepherd us Home. I like the “true or true” tactic… it’s a powerful way to ensure that the crowd climbs aboard and sets sail on your ship. Just be sure to exercise discernment, and make sure it’s a destination worth seducing the herd to, okay?)

Church… The word church has almost as much yucky, archaic resonance around it as the word “God” does… I feel like such an underdog for loving church. As though the ONLY people who are allowed to love church are the prudish, rigid, nervous types who judge and condemn in the name of God. Obviously that’s NOT true, since NOBODY at The East Bay Church of Religious Science is like that. The vibe there is that of celebratory affirmation that the power and the presence of the Holy Dice Roller is within each one of us! It’s such a resplendent breath of fresh air to spend a couple of hours steeping in an environment where EVERYONE is aligned with the Highest. And not the narrowing, condemning highest, but the empowering, expansive Highest. I leave that place floating in the heaven that is here and now, utterly a-tingle! I feel so blessed. I dream of living in a world that is like this. Every day. Wait, maybe I already DO…

Well, if I had ANY doubt that all “this” wasn’t but a casual outpouring from my very own mind… Today, it has become official. This strange, auspicious weaving is only of the ONE. You want PROOF? Well, I’ll give it to you! First of all, I have been CHOMPING at the bit for Sunday to come, so I could get my azz to church, since I missed it last week. I was building a snowball of excitement, enthusiasm and hunger inside. And then, when I got to church, there was an unusually high vibration, like a shimmering castle of sacred sand, shaped from my very own anticipation. The minister and the pulpit assistant and the musical director were all giving voice to how BLESSED we were to be sharing this utterly divine space of celebration and worship. Each of them spilled out of their own skin with extraordinary jubilation. Now, you might say “so what?”… but if I were to look through the lens that all that is “outside” is a reflection of my “inside”…I recognize that my experience of in and out fit together like a sexy-chic glove today!

Then, the choir (the HOLY, revelatory, no-holds-barred-inspired choir) sang a song with the lyrics “Spirit wants you to sing your song”. Remember my blog entry from like TWO days ago??? I started it talking about how I seem to have forgotten my soul song… and the idea that each of us is born into our very own, unique song… Then the minister expounded on this idea of reclaiming our song, and choosing to courageously SING OUR SONG! “Coincidence”… yeah. (Be sure to envision a congregation hootin’ and hollerin’ in ecstatic accordance with all the nourishing words splashed upon us)

COINCIDE~ to occupy the same place in space, the same point or period in time, or the same relative position: The centers of concentric circles coincide.

Thank you dictionary dot com! Concentric circles… another topic that often pours through these holy fingertips and onto the page… Hey! It’s a coincidence WITHIN a coincidence!!! Think about the implications of occupying the same place in space… Makes me think of ONEness. Makes me think of transcendence of the space-time continuum. Ya dig? Like beyond this world of division and multiplicity and distance, there is quiet, holy center, from which everything pours.

Another coincidence= I wanted to check in on my beloved blogging sister, Melissa (http://honeybtemple2.blogspot.com/)… One of her most recent posts addresses the plump, juicy topic of jealousy. She specifically addresses jealousy in relation to relationships. Like getting jealous of your partner when they are connecting with another woman (or man)… I really dug her digging into this “unsavory” facet of existence. What came to my mind was another manifestation of jealousy. The kind of jealousy that stems from seeing someone thriving, existing in fullness and glory in an area of life where I feel scarce, undeserving or somehow blocked. This kind of jealousy stings like a motha! So of course, but two hours later, the minister stood before his congregation and addressed this very aspect of jealousy. He openly embraced what he called his “Hater”… the aspect of himself (and myself and your self) that feels scarce and disconnected from Source, and in the face of that judges, condemns and even hates those who are thriving, because they shine an unflattering mirror on a place where we have forgotten the truth of ourselves and the implicit abundance and worthiness therein.

What is the essence of all this? THERE IS ONE MIND, PEOPLE. ONE. We all think from this one mind. Or… it thinks us… some’m like that.

And I’m spent. It’s off to the farmer’s market in search of cookies the size of baby whales! Blessings, blessings, blessings to you. May your mind be luminous and lit by the magnificent, off the hook light of the ONE!

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