We are children

We are children

My inner child, playmate, best friend

May I remember all of my growth. Growth physical and growth in heart’s love.

I want to remain alive to my heart’s ability to grow in heart love.

May I have

May I find the courage to draw on the power with which loving with loving kindness regenerates my heart’s expansion into love’s swaying flower fields and forests of kindness.

Every day let my fearful forward-fixed gaze give me a rest, so I pause and take stock.

Every day I will remember when I open my eyes awake, to let my heart take me by the hand, its own little child, wide-eyed in wonder, and lead me to learn new expanding abilities of loving to live.

At night, let me review this amazing journey of breath and blood, tears and sweat, so I remember why my heart is so rightly full of gratitude.

My heart and I have accepted challenges, made discoveries, assimilated life lessons, received and been blessed by growth.

The ebb and flow of heart’s luminosity assists and stands guard over growth and healing in my body.

In this inevitable plurality of beings, my heart drives me to connect. 

My own growth towards recognition, understanding and peaceful acceptance of who I am comes from unconditional, non-judgemental relationships.

Deep maternal love, which is one form of non-attached friendship, released my tiny child into the grassy flower-meadows of my very first summers.

Later on, my heart, strengthened and emboldened by the unmistakable benevolence of the Big Green, began to receive and to give non-judgemental friendship.

Stagnation dissolves and energetic growth returns when my inner child makes itself known to me again. It may be from hints, signs, clues to my senses, to my awareness, that my inner child’s presence peers past the curtains of my darkness, always dancing, always smiling, always beckoning me out to play and to laugh!

It may be my indirect sensation of its presence through my perception of its absence and the terrible pain of that lonely emptiness.
Mercifully, this pain is pure illusion.

My inner child wants to be found, it never hides! And so, with a little concentration, I can come to my inner child, playmate, best friend.

Then my inner child holds my hand once more, I am filled up, my heart is filled and my being is refreshed with the giggles of childhood.

My original child’s state of grace, let me remember it!

Let me know it again.
You and I are still filled up to the tip-top with the very same innocence and automatic acceptance of our natural and original condition, which is pure love, seen or not, felt or not, understood or misunderstood.

This acceptance is the elixir!

With this we can live in the perfumed fields of happiness exactly as it was, as it always was and will be, for us and for all sentient life to the end of all things

~ Love is present E v e r yN o w

My own Mother

I was on a solo backpacking day-ramble in the rolling lush late summer countryside around Monkton Wyld in Devon.

I came walking up from a wooded valley and saw this magnificent ancient Beech. It was too huge to photograph, but that didn’t occur to me.

I now think I must have gone into a minor trance of wonder and worship, a sort of falling in love at first sight, vegetable style!

In my mind’s eye, it’s there, just the bole of it, all sprouting out with thin new twiggy growth at the end of the season.

It is telling me my own story.

I was once upon a time also a new shoot, happy as the sunny day is long, knee-high to grasshoppers, under immense skies of early 1950s blue.

My height was under constant challenge from tall grasses, full grown corn, stands of giant stinging-nettles.

And of course those other, silent sentinals, the plain to see marvels of unlimited gigantism, the benign and welcoming upreach of the grand old elm trees where we lived near Aylesbury.

Today, I can equate looking up at the dark green remembered canopy, with my little boy self looking up at my own Mother

~ Love is present EveryNow

A compassionate strength, vastly superior to my own, reached out to hold me

§ The night a compassionate strength, vastly superior to my own, reached into me §

As my family and some few of my friends know, I suffered in my early twenties from periodic intense depressions.

I lost my opportunities, so carefully planned and worked for, for entering higher education. I lost contact with my peers, who were starting university courses, establishing careers and founding nuclear families.

I lost my independence. And to a large extent, I became institutionalised during two long stays in hospitals, such that it later became necessary for me to be taught and to re-learn some of the most elementary routines of self-care.

I passed a couple of years in shadowland, on many medications, and finally here is where this story begins. I am being cared for by a good family friend, at her home with her young adult children.

I had been, for I don’t know how many weeks, living in one small bedroom with my racing thoughts. They weren’t overwhelming or unfriendly thoughts, just an unhappy separation, a disconnect from objective reality.

I surfed stories of mystery and imagination, locating myself like a Robinson Crusoe on the inside of my own island populated by innocent fantasies.

I experienced a phase-change, a transition, which  professionals call Spontaneous Remission. I refer to it as my first Epiphany.

It is a documented fact. At around the end of their twenties, some fortunate few patients experience this automatic correction or re-balancing.

I had consistently followed whatever medication regimes I was prescribed. I may well have been taking a broad spectrum of psycho-active drugs which were not relevant to my condition for long periods at a time.

When the correct new medication was found, it was Lithium Carbonate. This is an inorganic molecular compound, related quite closely to that simple inorganic commonly known as Chalk!

I dutifully accepted to take this one as I always had all the others. So much the better for me, as the events that followed were primed to take their course.

My intense experience of this event in 1969 is clear in my memory many tens of years after. It’s a short story in itself.

It happened quite literally overnight.

It coincided with and was induced by a few hours of almost unbearably intense physical pain. There was nothing other-worldly about it. It originated purely from elementary causes in my soma.

During the night-time hours of this traumatic physical trial, I began to pray as hard as I knew how, because it was not like anything else I could remember, not even acute appendicitis twenty years earlier, nor could I understand it.

As the muscle spasms strengthened, it occurred to me I could not survive them at this rate. I began to prepare for when I might pass out and not wake up.
I bit down hard on my pillow, because I didn’t want my teeth to smash.

Irrational as it seems to me still today, I also did nothing to alert the others sleeping in the house. This was my time. My time has come.

The prayer I repeated was, “I offer my soul to you, my God. Do with me as you see fit.”

Later I learned that what I was enduring was not life threatening, but in the night hours, and after spending so long out of reach of rational thought, I did think I was most likely going to die.

I am perfectly sure my plea to God for mercy and my offering myself up to God to do with me as He wished was central to my realignment into objective reality.

Even as I grated the prayer through my throat, even though I knew they were the right words and that no other choice of words would do, some part of me felt slightly self-conscious.

Perhaps this is how objective normality, with its attendant banality, was beginning to return?

In the grey light of morning,I woke up. I was pain-free.

I remember it in detail with crystal clarity, I was on my own wavelength again and fully aware of the frames of reference outside of myself.
In other words, for the first time in weeks, I felt once more completely in touch with all of myself and with my thoughts, with ‘normality’ and with me in my own quiet undramatic place in it.

I got out of bed for first time in ages and had a wash and a brush up. I even took a pair of nail scissors to my straggly beard and my unkempt hairline.

Then the unshaven hairy guy they had jokingly referred to in front of me as the Wild Man of Borneo, turned up in his dressing gown, to join the others and take his place, a bit sheepishly but with his usual good humour, at breakfast.

Not a word was said out of place. I noticed a few nervous incredulous and amused smiles exchanged around the table.

I never descended into this illness, or anything remotely like it again. I had travelled into, through and out of a series of Manic Depressive, or Bipolar episodes over three years.

Now I swiftly started on my return to the world of work and personal independence.

Mine’s a lifetime of living in gratitude.

Gratitude for the love and trust of my Father and Mother, my family, my friends, those many people who looked after me when I could not.

And I return again and again, with an awed sense of gratitude, to be in the presence of a compassionate strength, vastly superior to my own, which reached out to me, held me, cleansed me through and through on that night of dread and dark all on my own

~ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life.

Amen Amen Amen

A buzz boomed by with a bee inside it

[Quotation from Rubeena.AK] Be so individually developed that you love humanity irrespective of beliefs, background, gender, race, ethnicity, culture, traditions, colour, language, nationality, personality or or any other macro/micro differences. The more you are compassionate, peaceful and accepting towards yourself, the more you will be compassionate peaceful and accepting towards others. How we see others is a reflection of how we see our selves. We were born to blend in without giving up our individuality. [Rubeena.AK]

A buzz boomed by with a bee inside it.

When I see and hear a bee in flight, I can frame it in words in my thought as, bee, hive member, honey-gatherer, pollinator, dangerous, pain-bringer, endangered insect.

The way I see the bee without doubt equates to my perception of it through my thought associations.

I tend to exist as a pinball in play exists. My thoughts bounce me. My thinking “I” knocks against thought-pictures, and I’m bouncing off word-imprints from my sensory input all day.

Most of the time I relate to people in my immediate neighbourhood in superficial ways.

When I notice a person passing near, out of habit I am inclined to estimate the identity from a limited range of mainly visual cues, derived from my picture of the me I call myself.

What happens to my impression of the bee when my sensitivity to my own identity is low to vanishing point? What happens when my preconception of the bee, and my decades long memories of bee instances are out of reach, not present at all?

It was like this.

I had started into wakefulness from my slumped pose seated in the summer sunlight in the garden. In the absence of explicit assumptions about the bee, I heard its buzz, I did not see it.

I was on the rim between volcanic fire and magnetic sleep. I was distracted by the sound of a bee. Distracted only as far as to understand the buzz meant no threat to me. I also deduced the bee and its now receeding sound strake were not relevant to me at this moment.

My Bee >/< Me unitary moment occurred when the bee and I tacitly acknowledged each other’s presence in the afternoon.

I became aware of these things.

First, I had woken up and registered the proximity of the bee.

Second, I removed my attention from the bee.

Third, I received with clarity the bee’s thought that I was irrelevant to its determined flight trajectory, exactly as I too had come swiftly to the same conclusion.

The point made by both the bee and I in that instant was that we were both superfluous to each other’s needs.

There is a parallel for people. We often glance in the direction of another person, only to acknowledge, in the briefest non-engaged contact, our mutual disinterest. This is an often repeated instance between strangers of assessment of threat or of potential purpose.

This risk assessment relies on the recognition of multiple commonalities, beginning with the plain fact we are both alive.

I felt a strong common shared sentience on an animal plane with the bee. I was in the presence of sentient life, life with a soul.

As the bee flew by, although I did not see it, I fully recognised it as a sentient being.

I actually received the bee saying, with dignity and self-assuredness, “I must go about my business; you about yours”.

The process of deduction we were simultaneously engaged in, the bee and I, was the equivalent of two humans crossing on a path.

One has business and purpose unrelated to the other, and, in the continuation of their separate paths, they explicitly and implicitly share in an automatic mutual recognition only available between two sentient beings!

It matters not to me, a few days on from my vision, if I am still imprinting my image on the world outside my body or not.

For this briefest of brief union with the mind of a bee, I am blessed beyond all reckoning.

~ Love is present EveryNow

🌹Love with no object of love to love🌹

Wildflower Meadow seedlings

🌹Love with no object of love to love🌹

I find a lot of peace rises in me as I begin working in our little patch of green garden.

I am rested. 

These days, if I have no physical stress, such as fatigue, my state of inner stillness comes in closer. And I only have to turn my attention inwards to feel that same old Butterflies in the Tummy of being in love!

This was the state of being I entered, during my first experiences of Biodanza, and, with the witness of some shining soulfriends, I underwent an excavation which openly revealed my naked heart to me and to others way back in 2013, a year I call the “Year of my Life”.

I have grown to recognise this feeling of being permanently in love as a state of Grace. I am vaguely curious to find similar people who can “swap notes” about it with me. But I have begun to think that analysis or the naming of objects won’t change anything for me, nor will it show me anything new.

The state I entered into in the Year of My Life was propelled there by a number of emotional shocks or Epiphanies, which I have written up elsewhere on my EveryNow blog.

My emotional landscape is characterised by an illogical sense of continual and continuing newness.

Illogical, because a new awareness or new experience of feelings generally subsides over time, and the outlines decay to take on the perspective of something old, of something like “been there, done that”.

There is nothing old hat about my emotional state whenever I touch into my heart and feel the love. I cannot detect anything I can refer to as, “Oh, yes those finished and tidied away things over there!”

This puzzles me when I think about it. But that’s as far as it goes when I hold it up to examine it.

In fact, the place I have reached inside is like a wide open feeling of shared universal connection when walking a forest trail. Wide open, yes, except it’s “bigger on the inside than the outside”. 

With my most sacred space being all filled up, comes a perception of pure energy, disembodied and unrelated to spatial position.

Where good fiction is made believable by a suspension of disbelief, so the sense of being in love in isolation from and absolutely removed from any object for the love, takes on the form of a belief.

Like a participant in an audience at a dramatic presentation, my sensation of this love is high intensity, at high volume, yet peaceful, without forcefulness.

So, on every occasion when I touch into my heart, I acknowledge the presence of it all over again. And of course it feels like it’s here now for the very first time!

Being thus reassured of its presence deeply inside, I put thoughts of questioning aside and get on with things.

I cannot grasp it, because it is not something I need to take or possess. Anyhow, it doesn’t have any attributes of possession.

For most of my adult life, I have navigated some fixed stars, with maxims I created, like:

“Love is the answer to which no question exists”,

“No question; answer is before”

“Summer and winter come and go

See the sense of season

Sleep naked of reason.

Old soil is new soil

In the dark seed’s eye”

What has opened in me links back to one or other of these concepts, and these in turn link back to key events and crossroads in my earlier life.

In turn, I track back along centuries of striving and surviving, trillions of gene iterations, through interstellar dust lanes hustling potential, to the beginning of beginnings.

How do you feel when you’re in love?

Your mind will take you eventually or immediately towards the object of your affection.

What has arrived in me, intense love, quenches every last residue of fear. The awareness of such love is self sustaining. It feels like perpetual motion eternally safe !

This place. This place of perpetuity, where the perception exists of itself, and in sole occupation of the heart of loving!

The only way I have to begin to describe it is to see how it belongs.

It belongs to itself alone.

At the same time, the only other two ways to express it are to sing or scream out loud like a frantic teenager, or to go share the joy, in every possible way I have learned how to, with all those who do have ears and eyes.

Exactly as I believe do you, dear Reader!

~Love is present EveryNow

Nothing but electrons


°>×Nothing but electrons×<°

I have to report this.

I was recently abducted by alien technology transport.

Don’t reach for the off-button! This is still me in my skull. However, everything I knew before my ride has undergone a green-shift.

It was night. The machine I had been invited into reversed quietly on a narrow rough track, but I felt no bumps. We were somewhere in rural Hampshire, where Crop Circles Hardly Happen, .

We engaged onto an English single track country lane. I noticed smooth power. And not a sound.

The Man said, “There is no engine. Under the bonnet is another boot storage space.”

I looked down for a gear shift, or up for an understated gear-paddle.

He said, “No engine. No need for gears.”

In the space left by no gearshift is a Useful Cup Holder and space for personal items.

Power from a bank of batteries in the floor of the vehicle is entirely controlled by computers operating in close harmony with state-of-the-art Global Positioning software. The computers receive firmware and software updates OTA – Over The Air.

A fourteen-by-eight inch central colour display and monitor is addressed by touch.

What are those two buttons on each side? I am bold to ask.

“This one is for the hazard lights. That one opens the glove box.”

I asked the one in the driver’s seat if this car is a hybrid, if it takes petrol, or oil.

“No engine; nothing goes in except electrons.”

It was night, and soon we entered the first motorway.

We were having a discussion about the balls and chains with which corporate petroleum interests still try to shackle advances in battery technology. That was when I noticed three things.

First, the driver-side display showing our car (head lights lit), between two continuous glowing blue lines. I could see radar images of the traffic ahead in our lane.

Second, up to this point on our journey, my driver man had not touched the steering wheel at all. He flicks the indicator and the car accelerates, the steering wheel moves, I watch on the radar display as we overtake a slow lorry, and the car returns to our lane to cruise in a posh but unfamiliar silence-bubble at maximum speed limit. Not a fraction over or under.

Third, not once in the 30 mile trip did the driver touch the brakes! In the rare and frankly unlikely event of a traffic emergency which the computer couldn’t compute, he could hit the brakes to take instant full manual control.

This autonomous vehicle and its batteries, a brainchild of the man with the science-fiction name of Elon Musk, not only attracts zero Road Tax, but under corporation tax rules, HMRC makes a net tax refund for the running of it! The car’s running costs are piffling insignificant compared to any hydrocarbon fuelled vehicle.

On cloud nine, I thanked my alien for the ride of my life, and I got out, still an Earthling, but a changed earthling.

All by itself, the chunky five figure price tag for this autonomous luxury earthship from the Far Future is ample justification for my buying the occasional Lottery ticket.

Meaningful choice

Points of reference

What choice is there in the geometric single point?

Choice is always predicated on a point of reference. Reduce reference points to zero (not that this can be done) and choice virtually disappears. Here we are operating at the level of micro-organisms.

Meaningful choice involved with interactions initiates from a point of reference. With no point of reference, no meaning can be apparent, and visible colour and the inspiration to initiate are at their perigee.

If I am at peace in my most sacred space, if my relation to the me I call myself is all compassion and respect for the integrity of my identity, I can act from a position of trust.

This is the trust to which I am beholden because it allows me to deploy from my innate centre of power. This place is blind to action, yet all-seeing. This place is stillness of unimaginable breadth and depth, yet it remains sensitive to the tiniest movements of sentience in the web of life.

My power revealed is my self returned to the womb.

If I am able to access the ataraxia of my original self, the place where who I am is far less of a motivator than to whom I am beholden for my connectivity, then I can act with security to make choices which accord and harmonise with the source of boundless love from which I came, and to which I am to return.

~ Love is present EveryNow

Love with no object of love to love

I worked in the garden for some hours after breakfast. It’s satisfying to see the patch of bare, sieved earth I prepared a few weeks ago now sprouting up and up! These will be the mixed Wildflowers and Traditional Meadow Grasses which I ordered when lockdown began.

Wildflower meadow seedlings

I find a lot of peace rises in me as I begin working in our little patch of green.

Today would have been the first day of Colourfest 2020. Several friends say this outdoor Dorset festival was their top favourite. They are posting warm and warming memories on Facebook.

I am rested. I find these days that if I have no physical stress, such as fatigue, my state of inner stillness comes in closer. And I only have to turn my attention inwards to feel that same butterflies in the tummy of being in love!

This was the state of being I entered, during my first experiences of Biodanza, and, with the witness of some shining soulfriends, I underwent an excavation which openly revealed my naked heart to me and to others way back in 2013, the “Year of my Life”.

I have grown to recognise this feeling of being permanently in love as a state of Grace. I am vaguely curious to find similar people who can “swap notes” about it with me. But I have begun to think that analysis or the naming of objects won’t change anything for me, nor will it show me anything new.

The state I entered into in the Year of My Life was propelled there by a number of emotional shocks or Epiphanies, which I have written up elsewhere on my EveryNow blog.

My emotional landscape is characterised by an illogical sense of continual and continuing newness.

Illogical, because a new awareness or new experience of feelings generally subsides over time, and the outlines decay to take on the perspective of something old, of something like “been there, done that”.

There is nothing old hat about my emotional state whenever I touch into my heart and feel the love. I cannot detect anything I can refer to as, “Oh, yes those finished and tidied away things over there!”

This puzzles me when I think about it. But that’s as far as it goes when I hold it up to examine it.

In fact, the place I have reached inside I compare to the experience for a pair of good friends who are out strolling in companionable mindful wonder along an ancient forest trail. It is a wide open feeling of shared universal connection.

As the well-known saying goes from the Doctor Who series to explain the TARDIS inexplicable hyper-lightspeed time travel capabilities, “the TARDIS is bigger on the inside than the outside”.

With my most sacred space being all filled up, comes a perception of pure energy, disembodied and unrelated to spatial position. Where good fiction is made believable by a suspension of disbelief, so the sense of being in love in isolation from and absolutely removed from any object for the love, takes on the form of a belief.

Like a participant in an audience at a dramatic presentation, my sensation of this love is high intensity, at high volume, yet peaceful, without forcefulness.

So, on every occasion when I touch into my heart, I acknowledge the presence of it all over again (and of course it feels like it’s here now for the very first time!) and being thus reassured of its presence deeply inside, I put thoughts of questioning aside and get on with things.

I cannot grasp it, because it is not something I want to take or possess. Anyhow, it doesn’t have any attributes of possession.

For most of my adult life, I have navigated some fixed stars, with maxims I created. Such as:

“Love is the answer to which no question exists”,

and

“See the sense of season
Sleep naked of reason.
Old soil is new soil
In the dark seed’s eye”

What has opened in me links back to one or other of these concepts, and these in turn link back to key events and crossroads in my earlier life. In turn, I track back along centuries of striving and surviving, trillions of gene iterations, through interstellar dust lanes hustling potential, to the beginning of beginnings.

How do you feel when you’re in love?

Your mind will take you eventually or immediately towards the object of your affection.

What has arrived in me, intense love, quenches every last residue of fear. The awareness of such love is self sustaining. It feels like perpetual motion eternally safe !

The place of perpetuity, where the emotion exists of itself, and in sole occupation of the heart of loving, the only way I have to begin to describe it is to see how it belongs.

It belongs to itself alone.

At the same time, the only other two ways to express it are to sing or scream out loud like a frantic teenager, or to go share the joy, in every possible way I have learned how to, with all those who do have ears and eyes. Exactly as I believe do you, dear Reader!

~Love is present EveryNow