The Acceptor

The Acceptor

There is a pressure from within to be creative. Our human creative impulse is sacred and precious, and it springs eternal from within us all.

I tend to measure the extent of my wellbeing by how much room and time I devote to any creative thought, impulse or activity.

I brindle and bristle loudly at the mention of things inside feeling as if they are not right during blank or uncreative episodes. I would get even more agitated, if these periods of no creativity are called out as not good.

The leafless “lifeless” trees in winter engage in new life-giving creativity through a symbiosis of biochemical fungal activity deep in their earth-bound roots.

In recent years, the intense all pervading peace I have found through conscious cultivation of acceptance during the seemingly dead zones of my weeks and days has taught me to be the Acceptor.

I can accept harmony and balance continue growing wholesome and undamaged even though I may not be able to visit or view or creatively engage with them, when my heart seems cloaked off in those null, dull, dark times.

I am not unlike a living rooted plant. I must gratefully accept as gifts the fluctuations in the circumstances and the environment that is mine. Like a plant, I accept that certain elements like harmony and balance may play out on such large time-scales that I may not get so much as a reassuring glimpse of them in my daily life.

I do know my whole being is well-taken care of by mysterious forces of Lunar wellness and Solar goodness. I do know I am massively grateful to have occasional glimpses by the Ah! of simple hindsight into those mysterious and ever-present flows of life-giving strength which the Sun and Moon fill me with.

Summer and winter

Come and go

See the sense of season

Sleep naked of reason

Love is present EveryNow

Vertigo

Yes, Red Admiral on Buddleja

↗️  Vertigo  🔄

Here I am, I’m staring along an evolutionary track that’s many multiples of the human story.

Naked truth here is unconcealed from my eyes.

Still I have a hard time comprehending the significance of these images of resilience and perfection of form and purpose of flora and fauna in harmony and synchrony.

I find it simpler to say

~ Love is present EveryNow

🎼 I make noise 💡

The noise I make, I make by being alive. The footprints of the sounds I make are small.

I breathe, I talk, I cry, I sleep. I never stop making sounds. The sounds I make have small footprints.

I make sounds. Most of the sounds I make as notations in music are rest notes.

The sounds are the sounds of not making sounds. My silences are my companions. My companions are usually invisible.

I know them, my companions, from the first moments I made sounds to and for myself. I heard them with the ears of my ears, outside in the brightly lit, open green fields of my youngest childhood.

The sounds I make can be put down in musical notation. Most are rest notes with limited significance. These rest notes reach my ears. I process them, interpret them, hold hands with them,

The noises I have made throughout my life is a musical score, indiscernible as music. I have produced a few grace notes, which rise above the score. They have a wider footprint. I hang my grace notes on twigs. They sound pretty as I pass back and forth through the forest.

My musical score is like all the other music produced by my fellow beings. My fellow beings are mostly small winged insects. They outnumber human beings. The sounds they make with their wings are their constant companions. These sounds are mostly inaudible to me.

My fellow human beings move. The sounds they make alert me to the Sun, to the Moon, to the seas, to all the things growing in the wide open airs under the vaulted blue skies.

All my days, the music I have made, I make without desiring to create anything. The noises that issue from movements in and from my body are reminders of the energy I release through breathing, thinking, feeling.

I see now there is a music composed of rest notes, white noise, the occasional pure musical tones. These sounds, my constant companions, remind me of my responsibility to try and make harmony out of random.

If I know it, or if I know it not, I have a sacred duty when I open my mouth to hum, or whistle, or speak, or when I look across in silence into the eyes of another. 

My responsibility is simple. It is to be in harmony with the energy I draw on when sounds issue from me.

When I am walking on the grass, among trees, on hillsides, on uneven ground close to streams, with the wind in my face, and my feet are placed and placed by my own volition, the energy of my movements is as the energy of light from the almost imperceptible dance of fireflies.

The footprint of the light I create as I move through the natural world is not large. My light is my companion and it is my sole responsibility.

All my long life, it is my light that silently accompanies every instant of my waking thinking dreaming existence.

If I know the light, or if I know it not, now I understand it is with me always. It asks nothing of me, because it is me.

The light is my legacy. I must know that the light I produce has unlimited impact. My light will reveal my purpose, my integrity and the extent to which my harmonious self makes music in my heart

~ Love is present EveryNow

❌Not in the finding nor in the failing to find❌

Do I need to escape from the ego? Should I try to subjugate it? Must I recognise my ego as primitive or maleficent in order to enable me to encounter my being in harmony and unity with the Universe?

I can say that my experience of awakened and often blissful consciousness has all my life been inclusive of all the factors at work.

I have always acknowledged and accepted my body and my mind in sickness or in health, in pleasure or in pain.

The “I” I call myself co-exists with my awareness of external and extraneous sensory input such as my hunger for peace, for food, for self-retrieval, as well as the many promptings in parallel of my mind’s primitive impulses to denigrate, downplay and deny the plenitude of my being, even when these lead me into anxiety, misery, violence, or indolence, self-harm and self-neglect.

These days, I begin to make distinctions between my gratitude for the acceptable reality of the support my ego gives to me and my gratitude for my ability to triage its continual background streaming and screamings that lets me identify and elevate the nourishment from out of the chatter.

Am I not fortunate to have arrived at such a fulcrum of balanced appreciation of life and in particular of my life in this rather strangely delightful all-encompassing continuum?

Yes, without doubt!

That awareness is the spring which refreshes me all of the time. That is the reason I have hope, the reason for me to go about, to search and to connect.

My heart reaches out in its search for life in all, all, all its forms.

I know that the search for life is not in the finding, nor in the failing to find. It is not in the choice of what life appears to present.

The search for life is in the lucid compassionate loving to live life.

Day by day, moment to delicious moment, that is exactly what keeps my heart beating and my soul flowering.

~ Love is present EveryNow