Love

Love is pure. It knows no boudaries, no conditions. It is immeasurable. Un-quantifiable. Abundant.

The Prize

The prize is something we will never know until we experience it. Until then, here's a thought:


The mind is impoverished, stuck in the slums
Remorseless lies banging on my ear drums,
Bang bang bang! Let me in!
Demanding to consume my thoughts with its din.
I stop. Stand still.
My ears fall deaf to its fill.

The whispers, the talk,
Too much noise sabotage!
Kidnap us from quiet,
Distract us with your riot.
The bigger the better;
Peace is an extinct letter.

Bury me deep in a lustrous story,
Grant me distinction and glory.
Life is a game I played all wrong,
Like the lyrics of a folk song,
Ever changing, never known
Just a rumor in a tone.

Checkmate came and now I determine
I lived the life of a vermin.
Pussyfooting in the dark, making excuses
Never taking accountability for all my abuses.
As the end is nigh, the truth is high
I am silent. Being.
Elusive.

My Little Parrot

She’s my daughter, not a bird. She is a 2 and a half year old little woman, and keeps me checking myself perpetually. I cannot say a word without it being repeated. It’s a glorious moment when her expression grows serious after I take away an offending object from her hands and she says “We don’t snatch mommy, do we?” No, we don’t darling.

It’s amazing what children bring to you as a parent. The love that comes with it is equal in bliss and pain. Well, for me there’s more bliss in it, but it still comes with pain. The pain that fear brings. I stay at home with my little parrot, who likes to discipline her mother as she is disciplined, and often think about how this little person is so wholly dependent on me. She needs me to cuddle, or as she still likes to call it, “cuggle” her, to brush her teeth, clothe her, feed her (well, make food for her), play with her, educate her, bathe her, and the list goes on. It’s a wonderful, human feeling to be needed. It gives you a pseudo-sense of greatness, of importance, of status. I am a mother. Mommy is authority. Loving, kind, playful authority.

Just as my daughter is dependent on me, I am dependent on her. I need her to know what the truest love is and to feel it. I need her to cuggle me and tell me it’s ok mommy. I need her to kiss my boo-boos and hold my hand when I cross the street and tell me I’m her best friend.

I never realized how dependent I was on such a little person, but what I do each day revolves around this little girl who dared to open my heart so wide it sings. She is the conductor to the orchestra that plays the tune of love in my heart.

And that power gives her some authority over me. (But until she’s graduated college, I’m not about to let her in on that secret.)




Copyright 2010 MH for Spirit Duality

A Dialogue With Doubt

It seems that I’m lost as to what to write. I feel as if what I have to say is just more useless information bombarding whoever reads this blog. This has always been my obstacle and the reason it has taken me some time to start a blog and the reason I have no continuity in my posts. I’m still getting used to posting my inner thoughts, even my exhaustive superficial daily thoughts. I am consumed with Doubt. And if I know one thing, I know Doubt ain’t my friend. Doubt is nobody’s friend. Unfortunately for me, Doubt and I have a long history.

Today, Doubt said:

“Nobody wants to know what you write about MH. You have nothing much to say anyway. Well you might, but is there really any point to this? Really? Let’s face it. There is no point. What are you doing this for?”

And MH said: nothing. (Normally there would be a world-class justification of why what I do is important followed by an imaginary standing ovation.)

But today I didn’t want to listen to Doubt anymore, so instead I chose to chronicle today’s communication breakdown between Doubt and I in order to overcome it. I had to break it off with Doubt. The relationship was doomed. Doubt was always winning and I was losing myself to it. So, no more listening to Doubt. I would feel Doubt creep up on me each day with that nauseating feeling in my tummy that it loves to bring along. I would sit there eating my dinner and eating my words with it. I had no more left to say because Doubt left me feeling self-conscious. Well, here’s to you Doubt. Here’s to your effort. (clinking of champagne glasses: Cheers!)

I am alive and well without you and I’d like for you to stay away. If you don’t, I may call upon the Universe to give you a restraining order. I know you may guffaw but I am done with letting you take control of my life. I can do whatever I set my mind to as long as you’re no longer around. Get the picture?

Slipping Away

I felt like I was awakened to a small degree when I last posted. I was (partially) bestowed with the understanding of what it is to be. I was accepting of life.

Then something happened, and like a bat out of hell, my small self, my human-ness, came back to haunt me from my being-ness. I was fraught with seething anger, contemptuous, venomous anger at life. I allowed my small self to elude my true self and I stayed in a bad, negative mood for three whole days. It was as if Hurricane Bitch came to visit me and blew away all my strength to be positive with its furtive force.

All the time that insufferable, howling wind of anger was blowing in me and through me, I could see that I was slipping away. I knew I was irrationally disgruntled and the reasons for me being so bore no weight. They were futile, useless reasons that I attached to like a thirsty leach and made them the cause of my unrest.

And as I was slipping further away, I found my grip, and pulled myself out of the piles of angry rubble that had collapsed upon me during the Hurricane. I knew I had erred. I had chosen to be angry and moody for no real reason. I lost myself in imaginary situations which required me to be angry, and the anger grew. I conjured up painful memories of the past and the anger grew. I wanted to leave where I was but I couldn’t, and the anger grew.

It’s funny how I realized the joy of being only days before I forgot it. Isn’t it funny when things are rosy and life is lovely and you are present, living in the now, and then one day it all falls apart and you take 10 steps back?

For now, I’m back to being and I’d like it to stay that way. I still have to wash away the scars of that 3-day trial, but I’m somewhat back. Appreciative, grateful, accepting. Let’s hope it stays that way for a while.

New Eyes

One of my favorite quotes that I wanted to share is by Marcel proust (d.1922).

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes."

A. Be. See

I was up last night thinking about this blog. I have to date, posted twice including this. I think about it, posting, but I don’t do it. I want to post more but feel uninspired, and judged and judgmental. I think too much. This has always been my problem: thinking and talking and not enough doing.

Frankly, over thinking things is a sheer waste of pure life energy. Imagining all the possibilities of what could happen in the future or obsessing over that happened in the past is exhausting. And pointless. Nothing will change the past. The future is not here yet. So just enjoy now. Be.

So in my period of unrest during the night, I was, yes, thinking. I was thinking about how as children we learn to speak and express ourselves by taking steps to learn our ABCs. These are the building blocks for linguistic enlightenment, for self-expression. I was in some way meditating on A, B and C, repeating each letter as if it were my mantra. Then, it dawned on me that the building blocks for that deeper expression of Divine truth come only when you can learn to Be. When you have mastered the art of Being, one will be able to See. It was an Aha moment, A. Be. See. Being brings about seeing. I don’t know what the A is for, it’s redundant. But I need it to make a point, to draw a parallel. So in my state of realization, I stopped thinking and just, well, was. And then I woke up. My thoughtless mind brought me abundant rest. My thinking mind brings me dark circles and indigestion. It’s time to start making wise choices. And that’s one way to describe life is, isn’t it, a series of choices.