A neighbor waking past paused at the arch in my hedge and said I have just two words for you, “simple grace.” I thought of my mother’s words “Pour forth, we beseech Thee Oh Lord, thy grace into our hearts.” Grace is acknowledging “Sat Cartar,” “God is the Doer.” Taking a breath of life and acknowledging the privilege and ecstasy of that or just listening to your heart beat and saying the name of God with each beat brings us into grace. There are many thousand-heart beats in a day. Grace blinds out any and all karmic past, and fears, and pulls us out of all that we have wrapped around ourselves as defense against love. Grace is receiving love from that which is able to transcend the physical heart and go into the psychic heart chakra. Grace is of the mystical, which has profound effects on our nervous system bringing health and healing, rejoicing in being alive.
I am sitting again at the Wayne River and four guys are fishing happily. It is my birthday and I am trying to do things on my birthday that I intend to keep going for the year. So a little writing at the water’s edge is in order as I sit watching. He caught a fish but as he pulled it in, it got off the hook. It was about 12 inches long and splashing and wriggling a lot. He did not seem to have a net to pop him in or care that he got away. The three guys lines up one right behind the other after that, as it is a good spot. He caught a smaller one and got the hook out and let him off. He said that is where the fish are but they are “not biting hard.” Silence.
A goose comes by, fussing at the fishermen for a bit but ultimately decides to swim on down the river past them, calling for mates. The wren and the cardinal and the chickadee were singing and many other birds, even as it was in the forties and windy. Spring cannot be far away. Next thing she heard was “Holy Shit.” The fisherman had caught a much longer fish. He let it go also. His wader sprung a leak and he was wet from the foot to the knee. He left with his companions and smiled at me as they went past. Two geese flew up the river, one behind the other, honking, near to where I was sitting. I always enjoy this nearness to birds in flight.
Would I get into the water or not. So many layers to divest, before I could hit the water and a swimsuit that was as tight as it could be. I dragged it up over my behind under the cover of my great warm pawnshaw. To recover, to redress, from this arctic plunge, heading the invitation to go into the Holy water of the river on my birthday, asking for a washing, a baptism to look forward into a new trundle around the sun, cleaned up, set in stone of myself, maybe even a new name of being a servant too.
She dreamed of going through the motions of pulling off her sweaters, arms up and pulling over the head. She knows she is pulling off that which is between her heart and her love and her God.
I go into the water to pull off all my sweaters, layers, to bear my heart in love, to let out love so later I can sit in silence and in patience. I need the patience to wait on the still small voice, to wait until I feel the Love of God coming down into my heart. Thy will can be done on earth as it is in heaven, through me and in me. Thy kingdom come into me through my electric cord, the marrow of the back bone, coming down from the Pineal and the Pituitary, the Crown and the Third eye chakras. To bring in love to the heart that throws out starlight all through the trunk but especially into the heart, so I can pull off the sweaters of defense, the sweaters of pointing and me me. Then the Love, Peace, Patience and Understanding, the four real chambers of the heart chakra can circle together, spinning out the woven of love, on which to rise, on which enfolds all we find ourselves doing in service. This morning I fell into the silence after an hour sit and felt the peace spreading out from the back bone. It was a lovely gift from the silence.
I found this description I wrote some time ago in my little green book of the miracle of the tree:
The tree shapes wave at her as V and A and X, circles, trapezoids, dodecahedrons, diamonds and arches, crescent moons, raised fingers and hands and parallels. The leaf colors tells of retreating life force that leaves the tree to go around the world on a winter vacation. It comes back up again into leaves and fruits and according to its kind from the stream of life giving us gifts.
She sat under the Walnut tree on a spring day last year and heard a great racket. The grass turned a luminous green. Then she heard the churns in the tree spinning water into sap so that the butter of the leaves could spring fourth and the flowers and the fruit of that fat could appear in clusters at the end of the branches for squirrels to know and to reach and to eat. They carry the walnuts down to her deck and leave a great array of black walnut shell staining the boards, for her to kick away never to say it is all a great miracle.
And in autumn that sap goes back through the churns, leaving color behind telling of its owner and origins, falling down deep into the stream of life, jetting off to go around the worlds, holding it all in place, coming back ready to parcel it up into the tree when the time is right for the butter birth again of 1,500 walnuts.
I hope you are enjoying this snow day. A little hail was falling making its own noise after the silent snow falling. I have to shovel a bit and will think on what can be shoveled out of me and my body as I exercise this incredible body that follows my instructions to lift and throw, scoop and puff and blow. I am a lucky soul to be so gifted to be on this earth for this lifetime.
Happy dreaming and meditation to you. Love from Rose.