this is one of those intentions many are setting, want to set, have set that needs modulation and adjustment as we change as our world changes.
for example, you change your diet, only to learn that there is new information being embraced that implies a differerent choice would be better. You were thinking this made the most sense and are frustrated with the news because it asks more of you and what if it changes again next week?
Tara, as a deity, embodies great compassion, and this balance of non- attachment and also compassion for self and other is a necessary place to reach -- for most of us, if we are to let go of that which does not serve.
i gave the example to draw attention to the overly simplistic nature of setting this intention. if you are at all like me, (and i imagine u might be a bit- if you are reading this) you also struggle with the ultimate agreement or understanding of what serves the highest good. it is a complex picture but it can be seen, and intuited and dreamed of .
i will leave it here for now. feel free to send thoughts on this (or another) topic to : taragreywater33@gmail.com
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Paper Skin- Part 2
"I woke up today, knowing the answer, without ever having heard the question"
-Sophia Sound
She moved through life as if always on stage. every moment of contact,
connection with other humans were opportunities for dramatic display. Self was woven from a patchwork fabric of all selves floating in
isolation from each other, invisible cords tying all together. This
woman was splendid and horrible, placid and dreamy, wild and tame. Her head was full of shocking dreams. This woman is a chameleon and
understands perfectly the longings in the hearts of men. She knows how
to play lightly. She knows the density and the impossible fragility that is the essence of humanity's contradictions. She
studies without having to look directly at the subject, with a nature of
innate wisdom. Yes, woven from a fabric of all selves floating in
isolation from each other. Her hunger is
constant and can never be satisfied with food. Her hunger caused endless
cravings for moments of high exaltation, cravings for the angel's
tears. It caused her to sigh desperately, unconsoled by that which
placates the average human. Her fingers
drummed the surface of anything in sight. Upon closer inspection, one
might realize she was a being of such depth and intensity that light energy
spilled out of her, as light energy does, into the ocean of strangers
who are always watching, never seeing.
( Morning light spills over her. Stillness and silence are present, her thoughts lead her to this place, behind closed eyes she sees humanity. Her lips whisper these wishes----)
"Pleasant dreams upon all of you. May your vision increase toward happiness. May you see the beauty that is always there. May you witness the fumbling toward love and truth. See the ones who arrive at an absolute. See the ones who need some proof. Life provides all you need, when you are on your knees, you could echo words you heard before or write your own script, one that cannot be flipped"
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Paper Skin
"We are dressed in the paper skin of our ancestor's
gifts. If you must know, I am only here on assignment."
- Sophia Sound
(This is part of the story of Sophia Sound. She had a unique experience. There are aspects of her life that directly relate to the lives of other women all over the world. Unlike most people, she lived fully by her sharpened intuition, her empathic, psychic and many other gifts.)
Sophia Sound was notorious. She knew it, in a way, but never really thought about it. Her touch was famous. Men would pass secret messages recommending her throughout the neighborhoods she lived in. Whole cities knew of her, but somehow, she still had a low profile. She was not a guru, not a prostitute, she defied categories.
She was a mortal being, but her intuitive sight grew so deep that the men she explored with and shared intimacy with knew that they were at the mercy of her choices. If it were up to one of them, she would remain tethered and reigned in. But that was death to her. She must be free. She must be able to fly away at any moment.
Since she defied categories, she had no way to describe what she does. People are drawn to her but cannot put their finger on why. Some try to tell her anyway, using whatever words fall from their lips, not the perfect ones, not the ones that make the most sense. To her, all of this ends up sounding like excessive compliments and pillow talk, she has no way to really understand herself. She knows that their attempts at practically worshiping her were false mirrors, pseudo reflections of her. This seemed ridiculous to her.
It was her energy that soothed, her eyes that promised excitement, or just a simple, calm presence. She offered whatever you needed. That was her way, her service. The reputation she had was well earned. The men she meets are lacking genuine companionship. There is no question that they all come to her due to her deep sincerity, her ability to convey this time after time is legendary. The men are left wondering how one person can be capable of sharing the moments so casually, yet so consistently.
When she is by herself, her memories are rich. She thinks "At any moment, I could die happy, I have experienced more richness than is usually allotted one woman in a lifetime" She tilts her head back to the sky, drinking the clouds, drinking the stars. She exists only in heightened spaces. She exists in brightened spaces. There is nothing this truth, this light erases. Shadow is present in all things. And Light embraces all things. All is one.
(This is part of the story of Sophia Sound. She had a unique experience. There are aspects of her life that directly relate to the lives of other women all over the world. Unlike most people, she lived fully by her sharpened intuition, her empathic, psychic and many other gifts.)
Sophia Sound was notorious. She knew it, in a way, but never really thought about it. Her touch was famous. Men would pass secret messages recommending her throughout the neighborhoods she lived in. Whole cities knew of her, but somehow, she still had a low profile. She was not a guru, not a prostitute, she defied categories.
She was a mortal being, but her intuitive sight grew so deep that the men she explored with and shared intimacy with knew that they were at the mercy of her choices. If it were up to one of them, she would remain tethered and reigned in. But that was death to her. She must be free. She must be able to fly away at any moment.
Since she defied categories, she had no way to describe what she does. People are drawn to her but cannot put their finger on why. Some try to tell her anyway, using whatever words fall from their lips, not the perfect ones, not the ones that make the most sense. To her, all of this ends up sounding like excessive compliments and pillow talk, she has no way to really understand herself. She knows that their attempts at practically worshiping her were false mirrors, pseudo reflections of her. This seemed ridiculous to her.
It was her energy that soothed, her eyes that promised excitement, or just a simple, calm presence. She offered whatever you needed. That was her way, her service. The reputation she had was well earned. The men she meets are lacking genuine companionship. There is no question that they all come to her due to her deep sincerity, her ability to convey this time after time is legendary. The men are left wondering how one person can be capable of sharing the moments so casually, yet so consistently.
When she is by herself, her memories are rich. She thinks "At any moment, I could die happy, I have experienced more richness than is usually allotted one woman in a lifetime" She tilts her head back to the sky, drinking the clouds, drinking the stars. She exists only in heightened spaces. She exists in brightened spaces. There is nothing this truth, this light erases. Shadow is present in all things. And Light embraces all things. All is one.
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