Another Reading On My Holy Dipstick

I’m writing at the desk in my bedroom this evening.  As I sit in the solitude composed of way too many solid rectangles, I feel myself squirming like a chocolate smeared preschooler.  Today I have a thirst for stimulation, adventure, newness.  And this bare-bones bedroom satiates none of those.  But you know what?!?!  It really doesn’t matter where I am, does it?  Yeah, let’s unabashedly plunge right into the fermenting, over-ripe cliché… Where ever I go… HERE I AM!  It’s really just a simple matter of downshifting.  And invoking the elite, unsurpassable company of my very best friend, God.  Come on… if you’re drunk on God, what in the heck does it matter if you are in your monastic bedroom, Amsterdam’s Red Light District, at the base of a incessantly spilling, orgiastic waterfall, or sailing through space in the quaint basket of a hot air balloon?  That’s right, it don’t make no nevermind.

But then again, I’m not quite drunk yet.  I’m just riding a mild buzz.  Though if a deputy angel pulled me over and made me take the line test, the winged peace officer would set me loose once again to dance along Life’s treacherous highway, citation free… though maybe with a winking warning.

If life was merely God splurging on an indulgent binge trip to the movies, then I believe I have been seeing some bitchin’ coming attractions rolling like dreamily grinning clouds through my current existence.  Nice prose, Athena!  Go Team All Pervasive!!!  (Pardon me while I slap God a high five!)  And now for what I meant by that, in plain English:  I have been glimpsing some extended sneak peeks and succulent tastes of the kind of joy and peace that the scriptures condone.  You know… the deep seated, unconditional kind.  (Speaking of which, it just started raining.  The view out my window is mostly clear… But apparently there’s a gaggle of clouds shedding copious droves of tears of joy right above my house.  Even though I am inside my first world shelter, I still feel washed clean as the rain sings down.  I see it out the window.  It makes my vision look pixilated like a cheap TV set.  And the air has become thirty six percent more sensual under the influence of falling water.  Wow.  If I wasn’t drunk before…) What was I saying?  Oh yeah, peace and love…

Yesterday, I had my second surf lesson!  And you know that rhapsodious old adage, “first is the worst, second is the best?”  Well, there must be something to it, because my second surfing lesson WAS the best… and the first was the worst, Athena Grace LMNOP exclaimed, wrinkling her nose emphatically.  Yes, I’m exaggerating, but the waves were much gentler my second day out, and as a result, I found myself to be substantially more courageous.  Like… I actually got on the board!  Grin.  (Ahhhhhhh… the dogs are barking non stop and it’s about as irritating as accidentally rubbing your eye after slicing up a HOT chili pepper.)  So there I was, straddling my long board, being rocked ever so gen-tl-y in the turquoise belly of Hanalei Bay, waiting for a wave exuberant enough to thrust myself into.  But not *really* waiting… Just looking around in awe.  Marveling at how the sky is like a big blue bowl full of jumbo sized, very freshly popped corn.  I know I said that the other day… I must be craving the good old fashioned cinematic snack sensation.  I love stuffing my mouth full of popcorn like a depraved little piggy in homo sapien disguise.

But I digress… Because I wasn’t pigging out on popcorn, I was bearing wondrous witness to life from the best seat in the house.  I watched a benevolent wave carry Brad towards the palm tree lined, golden sanded shore.  I watched Brad pop out of the churning surf moments later, looking like an ecstatic rat, near drowned in the All Pervading Ocean of Holy You Know What… And I thought to myself, “Brad must really LOVE me, to demand that I learn to surf.”  That thought was followed by flood of beautiful feeling, like a dam of warm honey bursting inside me.  Then the camera panned out and it was no longer just Brad loving me.  It was also the ocean, the sky, the popcorn clouds, the jagged, breathing, furry, green mountains, the warm satin air passively pressing its way into my lungs and animating this strange flick we know as Life.

I think I met my maker, Folks!!!!!  Never before in my conscious memory have I felt so Loved by All That Is.  FELT… Like in my guts, on my skin, in my mind (Ahem, YES, I say that one CAN feel in their mind…)… I felt like all of Creation was keeping me company.  (A gecko just chirped.  They sound like little nocturnal birds.  I think it was God saying, “Finally, we got through to dense old Athena Grace!  This calls for a champagne toast!!!)

That generous helping of a holy moment in Hanalei Bay is one example of the trailers of coming attractions.  I have been waking up in many moments and feeling profound levels of contentment, trust, fullness and a general wafting perfume of universal love.  And do you want to know my professional assessment of this matter?

Well… according to my sentient-poetical-metaphysic dipstick, humanity has REALLY been going through the ringer as of late.  Come on, you totally know what I’m talking about.  I believe I’ve said this before, but I’m pretty certain they are birthing pains.  I believe that soon the collective oil will be hot enough and we will start to POP in rapid succession!  Yes, we will pop out into a whole new dimensional kaleidoscopic orientation of Self and World, in which Love radically remembers its Self through each of us… and each of us remembers its One Beloved Self.

I’m just sayin’… Shrug.  It’s entirely possible based on what I have had the blessed, divine privilege of nibbling and sipping recently.  And based on an extrapolatory model of the trajectory of energies and events unfurling ont this spinning rock in this whirling galaxy to date.  The oil is getting *very* hot!

Amen.

Am I Dreaming?!

To Whom It May Concern:

It’s seven forty six pm.  I am well spent and I don’t really feel like writing… But I’m gonna do it anyway.  Because writing is my Beloved.  This blog is a relationship and I am devoted even when it my lips are chapped and my breasts are sandy and I’d rather be geeking out with my Course in Miracles text or knitting.

Hey!  I just realized that I love my own company!  I was really afraid I didn’t for a while there… because I can be so prone to loneliness.  But I’ll tell you what!?  Get ready, because this is precious, meaty wisdom of the ages…

Loneliness and self-containment, self-satisfaction… what ever kind of self-y-ness you want to call it… ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE.  In the wicked world of black-and-white-either-or-dom, you might think that they were… but straight from the book of First-Handed Certainties… I can vouch that they are NOT.  Especially not on the island of Kauai.  I mean think about it… Today I did my sadhana, cooked amazing soup (made with carrot tops, chard, coconut meat, ginger, fresh turmeric root, onion, garlic… all blended together, sensuously smooth and thick.  Yum cubed!), read the BEST book in the world~ Secrets of the Talking Jaguar (which is the PERFECT book for me to be reading at this time of massive transition, because it is a memoir about a man answering a deep soul call and being radically led by Spirit(s).  Honestly, if I thought my journey was epic… His is at least a gazillion times more intense, courageous, authentic and unbelievably woven and ordained by Grace, Herself.), took a walk AND had my first introduction to surfing!!!

Wow, Athena!  Surfing?  How WAS it???

Terrifying.  Talk about feeling out of control!  OUT OF CONTROL…  Today was the first day of big swells.  The ocean has been pretty mild all summer.  For the week and a half that I have been here, Hanalei bay has just passively lapped at the soft sand of Her steadfast shore.  But not today!  The weather is changing, autumn is rolling in and so are the waves, baby!  Waves.  Sitting on the shore, watching the waves, I realized quickly that I have very little intimate relationship with them.  I don’t know how they behave and how that behavior impacts my body.  So trying shackle a long board to my ankle and add THAT unwieldy element into the equation seemed wildly unreasonable.  Needless to say, I hardly touched the board today.  I did a lot of mere BEING in the waves, developing fluency and comfort in their throes.  I also did a lot of observing of more fluent surfers.  And yes, I got up on the board a couple of times… But holy Jehosaphat!  Surfing is a whole different language.  Beyond that, it is a whole different WORLD.

I’m gonna go back tomorrow.

Have you ever swum in Hanalei Bay?  If not, I will say this much~ Puff is one tasteful dragon, boy!  Every time I am there, I feel like I am immersed in the most decadent and magnificent lucid dream… except in this dream, unlike my few prior lucid dreams, I don’t get so excited upon realizing that I am fully conscious in the dream state, that I wake myself up and find myself back in the disappointing [metaphorical] mud puddle that is my waking life, my plain old bed in the plain old dark.  Nope.  This time, when I realize that I am drenched in the most magnificent dream scene humanly possible, I just keep right on sitting there (or swimming…), surrounded by the lushest, greenest, breathing mountains, under a wide, unabashed sky whose sparse clouds look like humungous kernels of freshly popped corn, and the bay its self, streaming like a grandiose vat of crashing liquid silver.  Oh and often some purple fog haunts the tops of the jagged, green peaks in the not so distant distance.

I might stay here forever.  Wouldn’t you?  I guess island life is not for EVERYONE… but it certainly is for people who find deep fulfillment in such activities as writing, knitting, yoga, meditation, cooking fresh, simple food, reading great books, wandering through lush jungles, maybe making love again some day, frolicking in the surf and reminiscing about the good olde days when I had a luminous iridescent fish tail… For those types of people, Kauai is a highly suitable and savory Home.  I feel embraced by everything here.  Even when I am floundering around in my shit… The sensuous air swaddles me tenderly.  This is the perfect place to find myself as a whole, single woman… because the sacred land reaches to me, meets me like a Lover.  The sky breathes sweetness down my neck and up my skirt.  The warm, fertile earth gently gives beneath each step.  The birds sing me saucy, tropical love songs.  The flowers surf hidden currents that splash upon the shores of my awareness, leaving me dizzy and gasping.  Can this be real?  Strangely… yes.

Is it too good to be true?  Strangely…no.

I hitchhiked home from Hanalei (because I didn’t want to pay money to eat out with Brad and his enchanting girlfriend Chancey.).  A strong, dark, handsome surfer picked me up in his pick-up truck with monster wheels.  His two little children rode with him in the cab, so I rode in the back, fully submerged in the bliss of jungle dusk.  I hadn’t ridden in the back of a truck since childhood when my best friend’s dad used to give her and I recreational thrill rides around the block.  I sipped the soft sweet wind, gulped the glutinous colors and marveled at how excruciatingly good God is treating me.  I thought of You, my readers, wishing you were there with me… So I snapped a photo.  Welcome to my world, formerly known as “too good to be true”!

Amen.