Beloved's Grace

By Beloved's Grace,

Filled to overflowing.

Now is True Peace.

INTIMATE EXCHANGE

 

Intimate exchange:

My feet grow into the soil.

My heart into All.

To take a moment without agenda brings the quiet and peace of renewal.  This is good.  Concurrently it opens to the suffering of our family:  One Heart / One Mind.  To live in balance is a razor’s edge.  Especially in times of loss and fear, taking time for prayer/meditation is imperative.  You can not run from the suffering.  Even with the distraction of diversions there is a part of you below the surface that IS CONNECTED. 

It is good to allow ourselves wholesome diversion.  It frees us from the relentless ‘bring us to our knees’ recognition of the painful nature of much of this earth-walk.

However, seeking the true harmony that comes through communion with the ALL through meditation practice is the true medicine for our healing.  Find the right practice for you.  Climb a tree or walk on the beach.  Crawl into Inipi or sit on a hillside breathing in life.  Enter the temple of your heart and call to The Divine Mother.  Practice Lojong Tonglen.  Find what works for you.  Find the home of your heart that you might find the healing place in yourself and then offer the gift of that love to Our One Family. 

With gratitude for my relatives 

...and all are relatives.

WITH HEARTS FULL LOVE

With hearts breaking call:

Martin, we need you more now,

Than ever before.

I spent much of yesterday listening to speeches given by Martin Luther King Jr on NPR radio.  I listened in the car and then turned on the radio in the house to listen there too.   This morning, his words still ring clearly opening the heart. One moment it seems we have come so far – and the next it seems we have regressed into darkness.  We are still in a battle for Our Lives, a battle for the lives of ALL THE PEOPLE.  Indeed, a battle for all that lives on Mother Earth is being waged and the battlefield is our heart. 

As I was driving up the mountain road to my home – I came to a vista of rolling land, ocean and then Santa Cruz Island – listening to Dr. King speaking on the radio.  I stopped to photograph and capture the juxtaposition of memories being created ….    “Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.”

This day given in honoring the memory of Dr. Martin Luther King Junior is more important that ever, as the light is in battle with the darkness.   This is not metaphor.  Cinch your belts, say your prayers and with hearts full love we shall do more than merely RESIST.  With hearts full love we shall overcome the darkness. 

Martin Luther King's I have a dream speech August 28 1963

  I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself in exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an shameful condition.

In a sense we've come to our nation's Capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir.

This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check; a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism.

Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?"

We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality.

We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities.

We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one.

We can never be satisfied as long as our chlidren are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "for whites only."

We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote.

No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, that one day right down in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exhalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood.

With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning, "My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrims' pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. But not only that; let freedom ring from the Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

I HAVE A DREAM

He stood on the steps.

He called, "I have a dream."

Hope and Resistance was born.

Standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, Dr. Martin Luther King Junior changed the lives of countless millions. The future and hope for mankind was expanded on that day.  With gratitude for one who stood bravely in the crosshairs for the people of his time and for generations to come.

I was 13 years old living in a world lacking the richness of cultural diversity when Dr. King spoke the words, "I have a dream."  However, I had been blessed deeply in the man I was given as father. a man of good heart and good intention.  My Daddy had been raised on a farm in the South.  Born in 1898 he had seen and experienced much.  Through the years, Daddy had shared with me snippets of life in The South and the prejudice crossing into all aspects of life there.  One of my Father's dearest gifts to me was his sense of inclusive love and justice for ALL PEOPLE - indeed for ALL LIFE.  My father was one of the few men truly deserving to be called a gentle-man.  With gratitude to my father who first opened my heart, so I was able to deeply hear the words of Dr. King. 

Please consider listening to and watching this video:  

Yogananda

The Beloved awaits.

White candle illuminates-

Igniting my heart.

Early morning has always been my favorite part of the day.  The quiet, just a bit before the night greets the morning in dawn.  When I breath in it seems air is moving through me that comes to me from a thousand thousand miles and all the earth is breathing with me. 

N O W

Television off -

Windows open, welcoming... 

and ‘NOW’ is calm.

Today I have turned off the news, with images of the devastation and firsthand accounts of the horror of the Mudslide in Montecito following The Thomas Fire.  The People do need to tell their story, and with respect I have been listening.  That being said, I am taking a little break from the stories.  Living on the hill – saved from the fire (about a mile away at it’s closest) –so then subsequently saved from mudslides of a magnitude none could have imagined were coming. 

Peace in a moment of NOW.

A deep sadness permeates my home town.

I baked cookies. This morning I will frost them and will take them to my neighbors – a small token of appreciation for their goodness.   

****

Call to DIVINE MOTHER

Oh Montecito -

Thirty miles square destroyed !

Oh Divine Mother . . .

 Seeking Divine Mother's healing hand after The Thomas Fire which was quickly followed by devastating mudslides in Montecito, California

(information about the artist who created this painting: Freydoon Rassouli is an Iranian-Born, American abstract surrealist and artist and author. Inspired and encouraged by his Sufi mystic uncle, Rassouli began painting and learning the poetry of Hafiz and Rumi from early age.)

In The Twinkling of an Eye

Lives changed forever.

By grace of morning light,

This one does survive.

***

When I gave myself the task of writing a daily Haiku, I could never have imagined what images would come before me seeking words.  Here, a woman who will have her perspective changed forever by the circumstances of one day.  Residents were given well over 24 hour mandatory evacuation orders, but a report in The LA Times says they felt the reports of danger were exaggerated.   Many in Santa Barbara / Montecito changed forever.  

https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/many-in-montecito-ignored-mudslide-warnings-until-it-was-too-late/ar-BBIbwpC

   

ONE SIDE OF THE COIN

Cool breeze makes chimes call.

Moisture feeds the thirsty land.

Inside cozy fire.

****

It is oh so peaceful here - high above the city - yet, along the coast and south in Montecito - suffering - lives lost - homes destroyed - always a juxtaposition of opposites in this world.  Duality...

FIRE and WATER

*****

Fire followed by rain.

Homes saved from hungry fire -

Lost in raging water.

*****

Homes that survived The Thomas Fire, now lost to the floods as water inundates the land that no longer has trees and brush to hold the land ...and so the water sweeps away structures and vehicles that stand in the water’s path..

WAITING

Hands are turned up,

Feeling the change in the air.

Waiting for the rain.

Needed Rain

Thoughtful and quiet,

The expectant land does wait.

Then – joyful tears - rain !




***
We have been blessed with a few sprinkles of much needed rain - for which we are grateful
and rain beyond mere sprinkles expected tomorrow ! ! ! 

Home of the Forest Dweller / Foggy Morning

The Padre’s Olive trees

Foggy morning, quiet peace.

On day’s precipice.

GREY FOX

Grey Fox walks the land.

Her breath smokie as her fur.

Bright moon bathed peace.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  

In the land of The Olive Tree Forest Dwellers there is a sweet grey fox who lives on our land.  She passes by now and again – quietly carrying peace in her stride.  She is at home here and we welcome her – though perhaps she is the one who welcomes us, as her people have probably been here much longer than the two leggeds. 

The Good Pack

Benevolent Alpha-

Happy dogs sleeping as pack.

Sharing sacred breath.

MORNING

Herald to the day:

A bird song chorus, and then

 A bell rings clearly.

JANUARY 1

A New Year comes in -

Riding on the peaceful breath.

And so, now we start.