If My Life Were A Movie

I am in the quintessence of tropicality right now.  If you saw me, you’d think I was in the movies.  (Except in the movies there would be a few fewer clouds… the lighting is not Hollywood in the least… too dark and flat.  But who ever said anything about Hollywood?  This is an independent film all the way, my friends!)  There’s a retired guava plantation at the end of the street I live on and some innovative folks have recently opened a restaurant here… called “The Garden”.  It’s called The Garden because there is a large, organic permaculture garden here that produces the majority of the food for the restaurant!  All of the seating is outdoors on a covered, airy patio.  I am nestled at the table closest to the gardens and I watch the wind flirtatiously tug at all shapes and textures of green leaves that grace the garden.  And too, the same Great Breath licks playfully at my salt strewn hair, pulling it in slow motion, this way and that.

 

Awe!  I just watched the head chef deliver two artful plates of food to a man and a woman sitting near me.  They looked so delighted.  They both folded their hands in prayer over their hearts and I saw their lips sincerely trace the syllables, “thank you”.  Now they are softly holding hands across the table, eyes closed speaking sweet words of gratitude.  Watching them a gentle, warm breeze blows right through my heart.

 

The cherry on top of this cosmetically near perfect scene is the traditional, soothing Hawaiian music that serenades us.  So far I’ve painted an idyllic picture… but there is a vague hint of discord lurking in the shadows.  I don’t know exactly what it is… nor do I care.  It feels like when a cloud drifts in front of the sun and the world dips temporarily into darkness.  Just so you see the full picture… See a verdant world in languid, rocking motion.  See a patio strewn with textbook, new age island types (sensitive ponytail men and slender, radiant women all of whom appear to have a proclivity for juice fasting) eating from plates loaded with vibrant organic matter of every color of the rainbow.  Hear an invisible, tender hearted Hawaiian man playing his guitar and singing in an ancient and almost altogether lost tongue (barely any native Hawaiians know how to speak, because when the tighty whities conquered, we forbid them to speak in their native tongue.  Sick…).  And hear the purring of birds or crickets humming behind his honeyed voice.  See Athena Grace~ eyes intently scanning the horizons of lost cities Inside, reaching for glowing words as the wind plays with her salty mermaid hair.

 

Awe!  Jay (the chef) just brought me a plate with some bits of “healthy” cookie on it!  I don’t normally eat cookies (even if they’re wheat and gluten free)… but it blows to refuse hospitality.  So I’ll eat them in the same spirit as I eat the hershy kiss that Amma offers as Prasad after she dons her sacred hug~ receiving them as pure LOVE.  Yum!  The first one is gingersnap.  In the body of Jesus H!  Amen!

 

Jay took me on a date the other night.  He bought a poem from me the other day… and one thing led to another.  It was a fun date!  He picked me up on his vintage motorcycle (I think if I knew anything about motorcycles, I would be totally impressed.  “She” is old and shiny and overall “purdy”.)  He asked me earlier in the day if I preferred to go out to dinner or do snax in nature.  I said surprise me.  (I like to practice relinquishing attachment because in my “real” life, I can be very particular about how I like things.  Some might even venture so far as to call me a… GASP… “control freak”.  Mykael?  Any comment? ;-p)

 

I hopped on the back of his growling, two wheeled bitch, wrapped my arms around his unfamiliar, warm, slightly soft waist and off we sped into the sunset.  We really did.  The sun was setting as we rolled north along the highway toward Hanalei.  As if the thrill of being on a cool motorcycle with a potentially cool guy in the deep throat of paradise wasn’t enough… the clouds were EPIC Maxfield Parish-esque specimens.  Think brazen kernels of holy popcorn.  Think stark contours that spanned chasms of burning peach, smirking lavender, sweet smoke and blazing white.  I was able to gaze skyward as we rode and behold the treetops, which fingered the sky in intricate fractal patterns.  Every once and a while Jay would pull off at a scenic outlook so that we could take as many unbridled, soulful sips as we fancied.  Each sequential view was less overtly striking as the sun fell further below the horizon.  But this is a good thing!  It challenged me to nurse the subtleties of Mother Nature’s endless splendor.  (Mykael, mister slinger of two art degrees taught me this refined, maturity of seeing.  I’m very glad.  In fact, I have been reflecting a lot lately on our relationship… trying to untangle the imperfect mess of it’s blessed actuality and integrate and recognize the journey we co-traversed… and I am feeling a deep strength born of gratitude.  I love who I am RIGHT NOW.  And HE helped me get here.  He helped me more fully own and engage my artistry and myself as woman.  Awesome!)

 

I was delighted when the said motorcycle rolled up to the fancy tapas restaurant in downtown Hanalei!  It always looks so alluring, with its blazing tiki torches and patio seating.  We sat at the bar, where I felt entirely over stimulated, between the front row view of the frenetic, artistic chefs, charming, fresh ingredients and warm dancing fires of the grill, a big screen TV, silently playing an old movie staring polished nineteen fifties women who smoked cigarettes, drank hard liquor and appeared to be expertly carved from alabaster, sexy down temp music, menus to peruse.  PHEW!  I feel washed with saucy fever just recalling it all!

 

But I somehow managed to feel my butt in the chair and breathe after the initial startling gear shift… Hallelujah!  I realize that it would be zzzzzzzz boring for me to recount the whole evening, play by play… so lemme reach inside and tease out the most important highlights for you.  One was indulging in a casual slew of sips of Jay’s complex, heavy-ish bodied red wine (a Rioja).  I haven’t had wine in quite some time… and I was especially struck by its high level of lascivious deliciousness!  And call me old fashioned… (grin)… but I’m a sucker for fresh, warm bread and butter.  I never eat it… except at fancy restaurants.  Little nibbles of bread DRENCHED in oceans of sweet, creamy butter.  Gasp!  And last but maybe the most memorable was the house made chorizo sausage.  The wily orchestra of spices and greasy meat juices played my mouth like an opus exploded straight from God’s drunken genius.

 

Yes, and beyond the poetic immediacy in my mouth, Jay was stellar company.  Our minds merged and traversed many diverse landscapes.  I imagined they would… or I would not have gone out with him in the first place.  To Athena Grace LMNOP, there is nothing more torturous than narrow bandwidthed company.  I confessed to him that I was taking a year off of relationships… just so he didn’t get the “wrong idea”.  I told him I was interested in exploring… exploring the nuances of the timeless, fascinating dance between the masculine and the feminine.  But more as research and good theater than agendas and happily ever afters.  He’s a good candidate for this… because I know I could never “fall in love” with him… Yet, I can conceive of genuine intimacy, deepening, play and warmth.  (Yes, I’m aware that I said that about my undercover He-man writing partner yesterday… but with Jay I mean it!  I’m laughing at myself, because I feel like the girl who cried wolf…  Oh well.  Either you believe me or you don’t… But at the end of the day what matters is am I being honest with ME…)

 

After dinner we hopped back on his motorcycle and cruised through delicate rain, thick blackness, silken, tropical night air and churning seas of stars to HIS PLACE.  But if we were in the movies, the audience would have been quite disappointed.  He lit some candles and we flopped on his couch and talked ourselves empty.  Then he drove me home and I dissolved immediately into a pool of contented slumber.

 

Amen…

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Courthouse Revelations With A Side of Bliss

God I live in such a bubble.  And the thing about living in bubbles is that it is easy to mistake the world of the bubble for the world “at large”… or maybe… maybe I don’t actually live in a bubble, maybe everyone in the courtroom this morning was but a reflection of my consciousness.  Maybe as I keep changing myself from the inside, maybe all of those fellow prospective jurors will begin to take their places by my side, standing up in the conviction that WE ARE ONE and punishment should not beget punishment.  That’s what I triumphantly told them right into the danged microphone this morning.  I told them that I could not be objective, looking only at the “facts” presented.  In a room full of wily, homegrown “strangers” (aka- perfect, unique facets of the One Self) I said that this world we live in is crazy and it only exacerbates it to perpetuate the chain of punishment and human suffering.  The seasoned black woman judge with the big blond head of straightened hair who would have been the perfect candidate to play a judge TV asked me if I had a better idea.

Smack!  Talk about on the spot.  I said not precisely, but the solution will come from loving, not from thinking.  I felt terrified and euphoric speaking from my heart in this room full of everyday people wearing placid faces and mostly crossing their arms in front of their chests.  If I had one wish, it would be that speaking from my heart spoke to the hearts of others present such that their consciousness is impacted and elevated.  If I had two wishes… (Grin)… I would wish to live life fully embodied as the Christ Self from now on, spilling over, everywhere with love and peace and blessings.  Perpetually awake in a state of unconditional bliss.

I was the first juror to be dismissed at the lunch break.  I felt sorta sad exiting the courtroom.  Even though I deem our system of judgment to be INSANE and irrelevant, I somehow wished I could’ve stayed and participated as the “token bodhisattva”… You know?  Just sat in lotus position in the corner and prayed for Love’s Grace to wash over the case and all present in the courtroom… while all the other suckas blew fuses and popped gaskets in their overheated little deluded minds.  Oh well.  I guess I’ll just have to pray from the sidelines.  That’s the beauty of prayer~ it transcends time and space, so you don’t even have to get out of bed to save the world!  (I’m typing from bed.)

I am very grateful for the opportunity to step into that little slice of life outside my new age bubble.  Or if we’re gonna go the more esoteric route (come on, open your minds wide, People), I was grateful to be able to face those facets of myself who are still deeply asleep in the illusory dream of separation.  I can see that I still have some surrendering and healing of this amnesiac psyche yet left undone.  Some unabashed bathing in holy light still to do.  But ain’t no thang… All Pervading Bliss knows not of time, of lack, limitation or suffering.  All Pervading Bliss will just keep smiling wide and wild from inside me and you and everything and beyond… Forever.

It really will.  I’ve been pretty curious about how it’s possible to *really*, fully live in the moment… and still get shit done that needs to get done.  And feeling stumped about the atrocity of living life sans planning.  Impossible, right?  But so many spiritual teachers and leaders and ancient texts whisper the eternal secret that if One lives fully open and alive, ever-savoring the gift of the moment, than life will unfold perfectly, abundant and full of Grace, according to Divine Plan. (Mom, what does that poster in your kitchen say?  The one with the picture of the lotus with the Yogananda quote…)  Now come on… Raise your hand if that stumps you.  Be honest.  Isn’t that a tough one to surrender to?  To fully relinquish the future and just bask like a sleepy sun drenched cat in the holy light of incessant blessed now… But today… I had an insight around this confounding esoteric cousin of one hand clapping.

Thanks to my Beloved, Doctor Depak Chopra!  (and of course thanks to my very own inner teacher, higher wisdom, Christ Self.)  Depak talked about living in bliss (among a whole other slew of brilliant, related topics) last night on New Dimensions Radio.  (I am still WILD about Mister Chopra!!!  Wild.  I want to be just like him, except me.  He *seems* to be fully awake to the truth of himSelf as the Great I AM.  As Creation, Creator, All Pervading One.  He is masterful, serviceful, focused, prosperous, creative, joyful, powerful, peaceful… I want to stand up and give him a boisterous round of applause!  And then I want to rush into an old skool phone booth and rip off my boring mundane costume and reveal the Wondrous Galactic Wilderness Woman Superheroine Maha Devi that lives just beneath this purple hoodie!)  Ahem.  He said bliss is our natural state, always.  It’s different than “happiness” or “sadness”… or any of those other great taste less filling emotions, which depend on external conditions.  Bliss just keeps on blissing along… Forever.  So today, I have just been lifting my mind and my heart to All Pervading, Omnipresent Love.  Letting the holy feelings of connection to all life waft and dance my consciousness awake like a sweet, heavenly scent.  I can see that living from this silent, unconditional bliss can only beget good.  And that is what I am here for.  To give good, to receive good, to recognize, praise and surrender to the unlimited good that we are all marinating in, that we are all made of.

There might be way less to figure out than I had once believed… It’s getting mighty quiet in here.

Amen.