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As you contemplate the world…
Remember to remember the pain.
The pain that came through your soul into you,
your new soul embodiment.
This body which you have yet to love.
The pain was so deep that you even risked
the death of this life.

Despite the risking, and hating, and pain —
you did not succumb to your torture.
You lived.
And in living, you now make a pact with the universe….

That you will not/never forget your years of self hate.
You will put them in their proper perspective:

Your pain has allowed you to enter the realm of wisdom.
Has allowed you to feel your soul;
as well as the world’s collective soul.
Has allowed you to feel the cumulative pain of eons.
Has allowed you to open to the Mystery of Life.

You must now learn the yin of the yang.
Learn the opposite of the pain.
Feel the JOY which can only come after great sorrow;
feel the joy of the world, of your life, of your body.
Your charge, your duty is to discover BOTH SIDES.
Allow yourself to enter into the Joy of the Total Creation.

June 15, 2002

Dying Creates a Clear Distillation
of what life truly means.
What it boils down to; its essence…..
which is Love.

Aging also distills. It makes clear
the reality of change.
Especially the change in our body, and
heart.

After 59 or so, her body becomes the
witness of her lifelong care or neglect.
And there’s only empathy for any neglect.
It always comes as a consequence of too much stress,
or pain.

For her heart, she accepts that it has and
will continue to be broken, with death or
heartache;
and she chooses to go on.

As we age, how much pain do we have; in our body,
in our soul.
How have we learned to deal with the pain, and
is it working?

We get to face ourselves and figure out
How To Lessen The Pain.

“If you always do what you’ve always done,
you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.”

What will it take to Forgive, Have Empathy,
Have Compassion for Yourself.
Then for Others.

…eldermuse.net….

Deepak Chopra’s tribute to his friend Michael, who just died tragically, needlessly; dared to speak the truth about a medical system which creates and feeds addiction. In Deepak’s words:”He was surrounded by enablers, including a shameful plethora of
M.D.s in Los Angeles and elsewhere who supplied him with prescription drugs.”
Thank you Deepak for saying what everyone knows but doesn’t speak.

We have a very broken medical system.
Wherein physicians prescribe medication which is not titrated to actual need, actual person – sex, age, height, weight, total condition, other meds, diet –
wherein the patient is free to consult as many physicians as they can afford and
obtain the same, or similar addictive medications and take as much as they
please. And we have had notable tragic deaths to testify to this reality.

Margaret died of drug misuse, Anna Nicole died of drug misuse, Elvis, Heath, and now Michael too. And countless ones whose names I don’t know. Sudden cardiac event. Iatrogenic cardiac event.

Today is twenty one years of relating to Margaret.
Eighteen of them in flesh and blood and three of them
in my heart, mind, and soul.
I have H-O-W-L-E-D at losing her. My being was
daily dragged through Hell, inch by brutal inch….

And here I am, out the other end, reborn.
Learning again how to live, wanting again to live.

Yet I love every minute when I choose to connect
with her, actually “talk to” this human being whose
essence becomes clearer and clearer as I reflect on
her, and our life. My heart still swells upon this reflection.

Twenty one years has brought total peace, acceptance,
and love of her soul as well as of mine.

June 21, 2009

Rumi, I love to enter into the soul of your words.
Words which express an ecstacy that only
Lovers comprehend.
Unconditional; Complete; Giving;
Receiving Love.

This Love is the true reality of the world.
It is the only purpose to life.
Everything else pales.

Eldermuse. June 23, 2009

If Goddess/God/The Creator Is Love;

Then loving God/Goddess/The Creator is loving Love.

Hugging Amma Ji is Hugging Divinity.

It is both, and at once, the experience of hugging the wind
and hugging a solid, mature, smooth manzanita tree, together.

She is small, slight even, yet massive and powerful.
She is transparent, unseen, mightily felt and enveloping.
While sitting in a field of roses and sandalwood, her Divine
fragrance announces her purity.

All senses fully, profoundly experience her embrace.
Her feel, touch, warmth, softness, power, ambrosial smell,
color and body envelop and absorb you into her.

My head in her bosom, her right hand at my back, her left
hand clasping my head tight, my right ear to her lips….
she repeats softly, gently, magically: My daughter,
my daughter, my daughter, my daughter; over and over
and over. I don’t want this to end, but it does with her
firm letting go of the moment, and without thinking I am
helped to my feet by her attendants, and she or they,
who cares, press an Amma blessed flower petal and a
Hershey’s kiss into my hand, and I stumble away from
Bliss.

I immediately placed the flower petal in my mouth and
added taste to this embrace. I wanted to take her love
directly into my body.

I sat down, flooded with tears, my soul melting.
My tounge tasted my salt tears together with her
sweet perfume on my lips.

Such fulfilling love is a miracle to feel. I am blessed.

I have had the grace, the extreme fortune to meet two living Saints in my life.
I repeatedly sat at the feet of one, Sant Ajaib Singh Ji, for hours and hours,
imbibing his Grace and sweet words of Naam and Wisdom. This was the Soul
who allowed me to make sense of the insanity of the world. This was the Soul
who provided me with a bedrock of consciousness for my actions, who made
me a moral being.

Last year I encountered another Saint, Amma Ji.
I have friends who had spoken lovingly of her,
who go to her retreats when she visits the United States.
So I knew who she was, but had never bothered to seek
her out. But a visit with Seattle friends proved to be just
the right ticket to my first Amma Hug.

That first Hug left me limp with longing for more.
I was hugged to the core of my soul.

So this year I went on my own to get my second Amma Hug.
(See Hugging Amma Ji, next.)

How perfect that one Saint was a man, and one is a woman.

How perfect that I have begun both my 60th and 61st years
with a Divine Embrace.

No better Birthday Gift ever.

My aging computer balked at the one thousand
or so new photos I added to her failing memory.
She began to move even slower than before,
and I found myself waiting, waiting, waiting for
simple tasks to be done.

So I began to delete old photos, to save space.
Making sure I’d saved them first (but can one
ever truly save anything?).

I came across a group of Margaret’s Puerto Vallerta
photos; the 100 or so bullfight ones and the 200 ones
taken in the nearby La Tovara river and crocodile reserve.

A bloodsport never to my liking, but for Margaret,
the ritualistic, ceremonious killing of bulls spoke volumes
about her four formative years living in Spain.
She loved Spain, her people, her customs and habits.
Even this seemingly barbaric bloodsport, now played
in the New World.
So nearly the entire fight was captured digitally.

The La Tovara photos spoke of her eye for detail and
showed the caprice of her camera choices. Egrets here,
turtles there; an entire series of crocodiles, somehow
not menacing, just curious, scaly, large eyed
ancient beasts captured up close.
Lots of apparently meaningless river vegetation, fallen logs,
the bow of the boat, other birds, and even her hand.
She took a photo of her hand.
Outstretched, palm facing the camera.

I took the time to find the disk I knew I’d saved all these to;
to make sure.
Then I went about deleting, deleting, deleting.
I am now about to Empty the Recycle Bin, pull the trigger
on these 300 computer images, and I am overcome,
once again, (will it never be raw,
will it ever cease to elicit such deep emotion)
with profound saddness, deep appreciation, and love
for this woman who was my life of eighteen years.

June 6th 2009

I am home from a month of travel.

I allow myself to look at my home
with new eyes.
She is safe and beautiful.

Now I have more beauty to give her,
to adorn her. From my travels.
Vessels, wall hangings, bits of glass,
beautiful posters, a bell;
From Israel. Croatia. Hungary.
Small things which tell a story.

I acknowledge that I have created
a beautiful home and a beautiful life.

I count my blessings. Daily.