Looking for GOD? (A short “Soul Sunday” reflection)

 

Don’t look for me in holy books or so-called holy people.

That’s not where you’ll find ME.

 

Don’t hurriedly hunt me in secret places, special buildings, strings of beads, ancient scripts, in potions or in star alignments.

 

Get quiet!

 

Then,

Look at the fire coloured sun, rising and setting without you having to do a thing;
See the butterfly, the migrating birds pulsing to a vibration of pure precision;

Listen to the waves crashing, a choir singing, the cry of a newborn baby;

Smell the fresh earth after a thunderstorm;

Feel the high of a meditation, the warmth of a touch, the tears that run when the soft smell of a deceased loved one wafts through your home;

Tune in, and you’re getting close.

 

Don’t chase after me in holy water, special foods or men who claim to “know”.

 

NO,

I’m more likely to be in the eyes of your lover, a generous stranger, a homeless man;

I’m more likely to be the laughter of children, the gentle push of a teacher, your gran’s dusty kitchen floor;

I’m more likely to be in the tingle of strawberries, the soft rain playing jazzy tunes on your rooftop;

 

YES,

That’s more my style.

 

For I am GOD, my child,

The creator, narrator, the connector of the dots.

The beginning;

The end;

Foremost an artist! Second to none.

 

All light comes from me, and all light flows through you.

 

AND,

How will you know when you’ve found ME?

Ah, that’s the easy part: You’ll just know!

I designed you that way.

 

© Aluta continua, as they say.  A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

APOLOGY:

It seems there were some gremlins in yesterday’s post, trying to scramble text and give me more grey air. Luckily, we’ve now sorted them out.

 

 

 

How a toddler schooled me in SURRENDER

I’ve been observing my son and his CTRL-ALT-DELETE siesta system shut-down for a few weeks now.

 

After a 3 block walk home from playschool at noon, he gobbles down a hot lunch and then stumbles straight up to a sunny spot where he crashes for 2 hours.

 

He never looks across at his PlayDoh, nor does he squeeze in a quick trip to the fridge before he allows his body to melt. He never turns on the TV in case he misses a scene of Paw Patrol nor does he apologise in advance for being unavailable for the next few hours.

 

The dude simply surrenders to what his body needs most and in doing so, allows all systems in his temple to reboot. Routinely, of course, but most beautifully all the same.

 

I must tell you, today I am so very thankful for the lesson in self-care.  The tutorial in surrender is something I need very much indeed….

 

And the GRATITUDE that floods my veins is most delicious!

 

© Aluta continua, as they say.  A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

 

 

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Is THIS it? (A reflection on why the h#ck we are here)

Why am I here?

What is my purpose?

Why do I feel like something is missing?

How can I be happy? 

Is THIS it?

 

Yes, I know it’s only Monday morning but surely you also ask yourself these very questions too. We all do!

 

And I bet you’ve dipped in and out of books, religion, dark incense clouded rooms and travel in a quest to closer to the “answers”. We all have!

 

But here’s the thing,

…We are all here at THIS very time in THIS very place TOGETHER and we are here for an EXPERIENCE.

 

The experience of goosebumps.

The experience of being warmed by fire.

The experience of learning.

The experience of synergy, alchemy, mystery, magic, “God”.

The experience of blooming, ageing.

The experience of vitality, abundance, creativity.

The experience of whispers and loud bangs.

The experience of chemistry and connection.

The experience of rain, pain and sunset.

The experience of recognition, resonance, mastery, reward, acknowledgement.

The experience of tasting a lemon.

 

…and even the experience of loss, illness, abandonment, tragedy, fear, resentment betrayal, loneliness and jealousy.

 

That’s the full package . 

That’s why we’re here.

And yes, to me at least, that’s IT. 

 

I figure that I may as well eassssssse into the EXPERIENCE, learn to ride the waves and flow with the current. You know? After all, none of us are getting out of here alive.

 

I reckon we may as well surrender to the journey….

 

Can YOU?

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

 

 

 

I Believe (Another Reflection)

I believe in vintage clothes, antique furniture, old tea sets and dusty old books.

I believe that our talents evolve, our fantasies change, our goals shift.

I believe that allowing ourselves the space to recreate ourselves is a great indulgence.

I believe in a vision, mission and life policy that allows for edits.

I believe in the smell of babies.

I believe in prayer. 

I believe that your energy introduces you before you speak.

I believe in speaking out, even when my voice shakes.

I believe that humility and gratitude will always be fashionable.

I believe in soft light, soft music, soft perfumes.

I believe in surrender.

I believe in coffee.

I believe that sometimes no one knows exactly what you are going through. And, that’s totally okay! 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

A Prayer Answered

If you have ever lost someone you love, you will know that it sucks the life out of you.

 

Standing at the shore, I let my heart break. The pieces fell hard and wave after wave picked up a piece and took it away. Completely centred, I stilled myself more, allowing the feelings to come and the waves to go.

 

Softly, the tears fell. Softly too, the waves came in perfect rhythm.    

 

My prayer that morning was a simple one :  I asked that the same one that made the waves, the same one that made my sad heart, would hold my mother in tenderness as she traveled back “home”. She had just passed away and the smell of her still followed me everywhere.

 

Looking back at the footprints and with the sound of the waves getting more and more faint, I realised that the prayer was not only about my mother. It was also about me. For me.  I needed her to journey well, so that I could journey well too.  My happiness was contingent on it.

 

Knowing for sure that my prayer was answered, I began to walk back to the boardwalk.  The connectedness I felt to the ocean, its rhythm and the creator of it all was not for me to try and understand in that moment. (Or perhaps ever!)

 

Instead, I bowed my head for a second in gratitude, delighted that there are undoubtedly magical moments and miracles on the most ordinary of days. Indeed when we’re silent and centered, plugging into the rhythm of the divine flow is not only necessary, it is completely instinctive. A rhythm most divine.

 

 

Ask me, I know.

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

 

Aluta continua, as they say.  Allow me to wish you a million opportunities on the most ordinary of days to plug into the magic and surrender to the rhythm that sustains us all.

Survival 101 for the Gentle Among Us

So, I spent the afternoon at a kids birthday party recently and watched my daughter be pushed from number 2 in the queue to number 15 in a line of 16 kids.

 

I watched the whole thing unfold in ultra slow motion. First one push, then another 3, then another before she was standing at the back.

 

Now, you have to understand how that raised my blood pressure. In. Very. Slow. Motion. Until I could not any longer exercise further restraint.

 

So, I walked up to her and whispered in her ear “Darling, remember what mama told you….” I was referring to many a lecture I have given her about NOT allowing people to push her around, NOT allowing bullies to mess with her, speaking up for herself etc. You know, Survival 101 for the Gentler Variety?

 

But, the girl was not concerned with my blood pressure in the least. She didn’t mind at all as she proudly said “Mama Stop!” She continued, “Mama, there will still be enough cake for everyone, you know?” pointing to the half a face of Elsa still left on the table.

 

The girl clearly had a point.

 

What struck me is that she had absolutely no problem with being shoved to the back of the queue and frankly, neither should I she thought to herself as she plonked herself down on the grass with the melted ice cream cake slice and the biggest smile on her dirty face. I watched the ice cream melt, along with my heart and I thought: Yes my girl. There is indeed enough of everything in this world to go around and surely what’s meant to be yours will most certainly be.  Fingers crossed.

 

Mama learnt her lessons:

 

Lesson 1:

Focus on the things you CAN control

 

Lesson 2:

There is more than one way to get things done

 

Lesson 3:

Don’t sweat the small stuff

 

And most importantly, Lesson 4:

Vanilla “Cake” can turn into the most delightful double thick vanilla milkshake if you have the time and patience to let the universe unfold exactly as it will.

 

So yes, I do consider myself duly schooled.

 

Patience and Surrender are not courses only for the “weak” among us. They are indeed courses of PhD level, which my little Doctor of IQ aces quietly each and every day.

 

Aluta continua, as they say. May the quiet ones among us know that their voices are indeed very, very powerful.  © A Heart Full of Stories, 2016

 

I Believe in Rituals II

I believe in rituals.

I believe that our talents evolve, our fantasies change, our goals shift.

I believe that allowing ourselves the space to create freely is a great indulgence.

I believe in a vision, mission and life policy that allows for edits.

I believe in the smell of babies.

I believe that “I understand” are among the most beautiful, healing words.

I believe in filtering the news.

I believe in avoiding traffic and people who complain.

I believe in tv-less bedrooms.

I believe in taking sides.

I believe in potato chips with mayo.

I believe that you can’t un-spill the water.

I believe in overdrafts.

I believe in routine maintenance.

I believe in self investment.

I believe in self-promotion.

I believe in talk radio.

I believe that humility and prayer will always be fashionable.

I believe in soft light, soft music, soft perfumes.

I believe in mentorship.

I believe in surrender.

I believe in less sugar, less tv, less hair processing.

I believe in ginger chai.

I believe in instrospection.

I believe in Tobasco sauce.

I believe that scrolling on your smart phone during church is sad.

I believe in cupping and dry body brushing.

I believe that sometimes no one knows exactly what you are going through, and that’s okay.

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.