A Thousand Years

 

"Hope on the Horizon" Sam Bailey

 

Stronger (Radio Edit) | Ellie Holcomb

 

for KING + COUNTRY – Do You Hear What I Hear?

 

Big Fish & Begonia (大鱼海棠)

 

Essance

Dear blog, 

 

Today was a beautiful autumn day. 

Quiet, and mostly peaceful.

Yet...

Sometimes, when grownups and grownup mouths are too much...

When the mind swirls.

And you have a few options of where where is best, to go.

I often find, the best thing to do is exit the house, and go outside, and have random adventures.

To find the sunshine, and trees, and living things.

To escape word nets.

And fly outdoors.

Bess, myself, and my Nephew, did just this.

We found our way into the ditch, with the soft dirt, and sat under the Russian olive tree. Its fruit was ripe---little tiny olives, lime green, and we sat, and ate the little fruit around the big seed.

It was feathery, in texture, and very sweet, like a date.

My nephew thought it very nice.

We went back to the house, to check if we still had time to tinker outside. 

Mouths still busy.

Still had time. 

My nephew wanted to try our back machine that turns you upside down, and helps straighten your back.

It can be great fun. 

I sometimes go on at night, and see the sky, and get a great view. 

This, we did for a while, and then I got the singing bowls out. Just as I got them out, the neighbor kids, seemed to be on the same music vibe, because their boom box started a going. They like to jump from their roof to the trampoline. And they were sitting on the side of roof  with their boom box, a booming, and kids dancing on the roof.

Two kids jumping.

Boing. Boing.

Dancing.

Boom, boom.

Same time, our photographer neighbor parks by the side of the road with a couple she was going photograph, of soon to be mamma and daddy.

Bess me, and my little Nephew, went ahead, and made a joyful noise too, playing on the singing bowls.

With the boom box  booming.

Yet I think we got even louder then them.

Then Bess took my nephew into the ditch looking for rusty treasure, and different interesting items.

Meanwhile, my neighbor friend kid, ran across the street, and had his friend put his boom box in the long pipe under the road, and he went onto the side where I had just placed myself.

I bent town, and put my head close to the hole under the road, with a long, metal pipe underneath.

The sound, was amazing!

The best speaker system I’ve ever heard. The whole road was vibrating with music.

It was really something.

You’d lower your head, and the sound was just wow!

It was actually, a brilliant idea.

That was the same pipe my little neighbor friends, and I, would use to talk to each other through, when we were kids, and wanted to communicate from our house, to their house.

Now it was a music channel. At least for today. He showed me the song he was playing, but the name I can’t remember.

But it made me smile.

It could wake the neighborhood, I think, if you played music there in morning hours. 

And was reminiscent of my kid self.

Because the adults were still having fun talking, we spent the rest of the day, jumping on the tramp, and then chopping old sunflower stalks down. As that again, was the most abundant harvest this year, yet again.

Goats did find away in, yet again.

But I suppose gardening is all about the gardener anyway.

It is just a zen.

Digging in the dirt.

Zen.

Clearing the land.

Zen.

Smoothing it out.

Zen.

Raking.

Zen.

Weeding.

Zen.

Watering.

Looking.

Planting.

Seeding.

Zen.

Harvest.

Zen, harvesting the experience of whatever grows, or doesn’t.

Zen. Letting it be as it is.

Harvesting sunlight. Moments.

The song of birds.

The space.

Seeing the determination of my nephew as he focused on chopping the stalks down.

The way the earth hugs your feet, and molds to every season.

And embraces the life within itself, and without.

And takes it all in. Growing things.

Giving them away.

And taking it all as it comes.

A zen garden.

Rake the dirt in the pattern of life.

See the art in the design.

The beautiful spaces, and shadows, and light.

It, the space.

Where you are present.

Growing a garden of ourself.

As we and earth, and the sky remember a remembrance of the fabric of our soil.

 Before anything ever manifested.

The soul of the clouds, the spark of their beauty, the essence of songs so moist, they became a tangible vapor that gives life.

Trees, and mountains, and green things, breathed into living music.

Colors, flowers, and birds, songs of the first mother, that sang to the first child, turned into living wings, that sings still, and calls to those to remember.

Trees, once wise words, shelters, and protections and perches for the songs to live on, wisdom to keep our unity alive, planted deep, there to remind us all of roots, and branches, and sunlight, and shade, of shelter, and giving.

Wisdom held there, of all the once elders that spoke true words, so beautiful, they grow still, and the souls who know the trees, hear them whisper, in the twilight hours, the records of those long ago.

Mountains, places of utmost height.

Poems, they once were, the love language of the soul, a high place, and refuge, a seeing. Where God saw a glimpse of his own sacred space.

And so….

The stars, glint with a light of some once, spark of long ago. Eyes glistening.

Bright knowings.

And someday, when we know, the essence of all these things.

And the seeing, and seer-er, see.

The space beyond what is seen.

Will all creation remember its true nature, as its reflection is reflected within you.

 

 

 

 

It Gets better

 Yesterday was a particularly challenging day. Let us say, it involved, mom hollering. A flooding toilet, that was also bubbling into the tub.

Need I go into detail...

Some things words escape me.

Mom's enema toilet water swill all over the tile.

A toilet pipe in the basement, leaking on foodstuffs. 

Moving foodstuffs out of the way of leaky toilet pipe.

Bessie, my brother and I. All doing our best, working to fix the plug. 

Which involved looking on the roof, and then us three cleaning out leaves out of the gutter/roof.

Traversing the depths of our basement to clean out poop pipe.

Cleaning out crawl space, with mice carcasses. And webs of spiders, and....oh so....muchy.

I have no idea why anyone wants to decorate with spiders...

The irony was, I was down in the basement, and thought I'd turn on my music, so as to distract me as I worked. And what do you know, right as underneath the drippy poop pipe, this song pops up on the pandora.

And it made me smile. Because... well we hopes it gets better. 

And honestly, for all those difficult bits. It was better than most times, similar to this. 

And we three really tried our best working as a team.

And it's just been a really exhausting week...

It gets better.  Yes please.

 

 

Celestial Dreams Harp Meditation

 

Lindsey Stirling - Between Twilight

 

El Condor Pasa

 

Window

 

Dear blog,

 

I have a little window to write.

And what to say?

Mostly.

Hi.

Thank you for being such a great audience. For reading my words, for watching, and listening to the music.

I have been lucky in my life, blessed.

Lucky in ways I haven’t always seen, or appreciated.

But I am seeing it better, appreciating it. The beauty in the simple places of my life.

For all the sorrows, there has been a knowing, and love, a thread.

Sunlight.

I have felt much like a glitch in the system, myself, and my sister, so much of the time. Not really part of many things, but asked to be, through some strange loophole.

Yet because of this, it seems we’ve been able to traverse through many places, vibrationally.

To cross many bridges. And thus love ourselves and each other in ways that wouldn’t be possible in most conventional lives.

Where Bess and I, see in retrospect, all the barriers, and the difficulties were, Grace.

All the boarders that have been so tight.

All the places that shut us out.

All the times I wished to say a thing. But let the silence speak.

To know grace, working silently always in the background of my life.

Showing me the beauty of it all.

To know that those things I thought quite hard, are still showing me paths, uncharted.

Leading me to know a place that has been hidden from most.

So, I see, and thank those Rocks, and hills, and all those very hard roads, for leading me back to myself.

For had I gotten what I thought I wanted, I would have never seen the view that had been waiting for me my whole life.

Here. And now.

The view.

God in all his and her forms, revealing the thread of life to me. The beautiful softening of hearts, when one is allowed to show up as they are.

How beautiful my little patch of earth is.

The autumn colors.

Our little alfalfa field.

The beautiful moments of seeing my sister and I have, as we share music with the young and old, and for a moment, there isn’t a separate I.

But just one voice, one knowing. And those bubbles of love, are so beautiful.

And the full moments make the spaces, all the more sacred.

The silence, and those moments where I can just be with my own heart, and feel it.

The moments of my feet on the ground.

The moments I have shared here with you.

The moments, unspeakable, the deep sorrow of knowing that you have loved, and the form has gone, yet the love remains. The knowing is still there.

To know even as forms fight, and rage, and cannot see yet, that they are still showing you something, and your loving essence is untouchable.

And so all these things, our teachers, here to show us, that love still flows, finds cracks, and corners, and places to sing, places that are ready for water.

And so, I say.

Thank you to life.

To the Great mother, and father of us all.

Trusting that until I graduate, I am student.

Trusting that there is a higher seeing that orchestrates miracles, that leads you to the paths that were meant for you.

And everyday the curriculum shows me, me.

Shows me, as I accept it---the author.

The writer.

The divinity in this script, that had just been waiting for me to allow it to show me its wonders, to show me it’s miracles in the seemingly ordinary things.

And so, I am a window. Seeing the light come through, and wondering at it all.

 

I take it in, and allow life.

As it shows up.

Showing me more than it would have, had I tried to control it.

Storm

Dear blog, 

This was a song we wanted to include in our last years program. But we (Bess) found it too late. So it wasn't included. 

 It's so mysterious, and fun sounding. I wanted to share it here.

It seems the past few weeks have been so full music, and people. And then I've been so tired afterward, I can't seem to find a good moment where I feel clear enough to write.

But I do know that through all the storms of life, there is a calm.

There is a space that is not effected by storms.

This is the space I love.

And it is beautiful.

Lauren Daigle - Trust In You

 

I Know Who Holds Tomorrow

 

Dog star

 

It started raining on me in my tent, I heard the drops, and was enjoying the feeling of the ground, and hearing the water.

Then I saw a light.

    Bessie---"It's raining." 

I hear her rummaging. Starting to make sure the roof on my tent is secure. 

Light on the outside of my tent flashes around as she so thoughtfully checks the edges.

 

I peer outside.

 

The clouds are heavy looking, beautiful. It was raining quite a lot. 

It never really got dark because of the full moon.

It was so magical.

 

It was so beautiful last night, as it was coming up, against the clouds, white, and soft, and glowy. I dipped into the canal just as the moon rose, and it was so very cold, but so very now-ing, and so very cleansing to my spirit, and body, and mind.

 Since I'm up I thought I'd say hi.

I was rummaging on youtube, and found this interesting video. Very curious. 

It stands out to me for many reasons, one being because this year my sister and I had so many beautiful moments with puppies, and dogs, and humans, and also some very sad ones. I never wrote about it here, it I didn't know how... I still don't.

But to make brief attempt, three of our puppies ended up in heaven, and it was a very sad time. Yet, though I don't quite understand the whys of it all, yet. I do know that there is always grace, working in our behalf, always showing us something beautiful in all cycles of life, and finding ways to speak through all the sorrows of this world.

 

Then, not too long ago, our momma dog had some heart issues after she got fixed. We didn't know what was wrong with her for a while. We thought she might be somehow pregnant again. We didn't realize until it was quite dire.

 The vet offered my sister and I such love, and compassion, and didn't charge us for the vet visit, but told us, that Honey needed to be put down. 

. 

My grandmpa had heart issues, and he started taking cyanne pepper, and lived another 20 years. 

So Bess, in a last effort to save her dog's life, started feeding her cyanne pepper. And a miracle happened. And I believe God saved her life, because she's a new dog. Even her personality seems altered for the better. She's no longer retaining water. She has a spring in her step, and zooms around, and is more friendly to me, and everyone.  She usually only loved on Bessie. But she's real sweet to both of us now. After seeing the before, and after, it's quite a miracle. And so beautiful to see life brought back into her. And her going on adventures with us, and just seems an entirely new dog.

I think love saved her life. And a little cyanne pepper.

So, saying I like to think of those whom we love, that have passed on, as beautiful guardians. Keepers of unconditional love. Dog stars, pointing us to our hearts, and to higher things.

Lighting up dark places.