I had a relaxing Saturday filled with reading and contemplation. Some thoughts by Wayne Dyer on Sacred Self stood out and inspired a poem. It's quite long as my poems go so I'm only sharing the first half.
Sacred Self
Chance is a random phantom,
of no import to me.
I rely on intuition,
in all that I see.
Appreciating everything,
the connection in events.
Seemingly unrelated,
to see our role's extent.
To understand the process,
and our role to set the tone.
Shadowed coincidence,
No sacred self alone.
I'm beyond the start of seeing,
the magnificence of all
I'm floored beyond my filling,
receiving through my awe.
Transcending definition,
of organic that I am.
Complete with sense of power,
I'm Divine lighted hand.
Through focus and awareness,
I see the Truth Divine.
Flowing clearly back to me,
this sacred self of mine.
Connection now complete,
to everyone and everything.
Conscious dominating,
of my self by way of being.
The One flowing life force
realized beyond the seen.
Divine no race, no colour,
no religion, or action mean.
Fulfilled of who I am,
connected and expressed.
I've become the heart and eyes,
the sacred self, no less.
Accepted understanding,
of wisdom's emanation.
Even the most small,
subject to contemplation.
Comprehensive greater good,
these gatherings to create.
Knowing there's no consequence,
surrendered in Truth's wake.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
From Whence True Wisdom Springs
I had a great night at the Centre's mens group. I went in with the intent to hold consciousness and to know that the right and perfect unfolding of the experience for those gathered in community. My vision consists of seeking the simple and supporting as I journey.
It feels as though this beautiful journey becomes richer and more profound the more I seek simplicity. And yet my soul sings at the return I am making.
During the check in I mentioned my experience with the Circle of Love. And in turn was asked to share more in detail later. It was wonderful to watch the love I felt reflected in those about me. We spent time speaking of spiritual practice and meditation. What wondrous subjects to share. And I am grateful for learning about what a sweatlodge is. I could see the light in the storyteller's eyes...
But before the meeting I started a poem that I'd like to at least get some completion to. It would be a fine way to capture a thought I had earlier today.
From Whence True Wisdom Springs
I wish I could relate,
What happened since this birth.
Of the simple moments treasured,
from this death here on this earth.
Fallen to complexity,
A need to be myself,
To wander shadow's garden,
explore, distract and delve.
I turn now to simplicity,
to Unity's singular call.
I witness body's cleansing,
Soul utterly enthralled.
The return now is clear to me,
All fears are cast aside,
the vision set so long ago,
now the cresting of this tide.
I know not what's to come of this,
nor do I even care.
For the why, how and end of it,
would taint the purest prayer.
Love's pursuit of unity,
a turn from outward things.
Ignoring sights of the world of forms,
From whence true wisdom springs.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
It feels as though this beautiful journey becomes richer and more profound the more I seek simplicity. And yet my soul sings at the return I am making.
During the check in I mentioned my experience with the Circle of Love. And in turn was asked to share more in detail later. It was wonderful to watch the love I felt reflected in those about me. We spent time speaking of spiritual practice and meditation. What wondrous subjects to share. And I am grateful for learning about what a sweatlodge is. I could see the light in the storyteller's eyes...
But before the meeting I started a poem that I'd like to at least get some completion to. It would be a fine way to capture a thought I had earlier today.
From Whence True Wisdom Springs
I wish I could relate,
What happened since this birth.
Of the simple moments treasured,
from this death here on this earth.
Fallen to complexity,
A need to be myself,
To wander shadow's garden,
explore, distract and delve.
I turn now to simplicity,
to Unity's singular call.
I witness body's cleansing,
Soul utterly enthralled.
The return now is clear to me,
All fears are cast aside,
the vision set so long ago,
now the cresting of this tide.
I know not what's to come of this,
nor do I even care.
For the why, how and end of it,
would taint the purest prayer.
Love's pursuit of unity,
a turn from outward things.
Ignoring sights of the world of forms,
From whence true wisdom springs.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
My First Visual-Poetic Expression
Those of you who know me will know that I am training to be a Practitioner with the Centre for Spiritual Living. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept think of a Practitioner as a Spiritual Coach.
As a part of the training we were given a book called Return to the One to read and prepare a thought paper for. I am truly grateful that this assignment was given for the summer. I spent close to two months reading the book and taking notes.
Last week as I went through the most transformative week to this point in my life I had an idea. Why not take two of my gifts and create a paper from a fresh perspective. I love to write poems and I enjoy capturing ideas in visual images. I am bringing these two forms of expression together in a vision that will be my first visual-poetic expression.
What do I mean by a visual-poetic expression? Well, I've been working for the past few days transcribing the notes of the past couple of months from my journal. And tonight I managed to write some 15 versus for the first section on Plato's Cave, and another 16 versus for the final section, the Return of the Soul. The imagery will seek to provide an obvious and literal presentation of an idea, while poetry will seek to expand upon those ideas through metaphorical and mystical avenues.
Here's a verse from the final section as a preview. I'm confident that this verse will remain (mostly) untouched for the final version.
We live on an island of knowledge,
Surrounded by wonderous seas,
And as our knowledge expands,
so do our shores of mystery.
Surrounded by wonderous seas,
And as our knowledge expands,
so do our shores of mystery.
And here's one (of eight) visual interpretation of the path Plotinus charts for us to return to the One. The images in the paper will be accompanied by some writing to literally describe the concept.
If you're interested in seeing the finished paper email me and let me know. I'd be delighted to share. It may be a few weeks before it's ready though. Preparing hundreds of versus of poetry is just the start. But I've got 7 of the 8 images already created and I've also got a kind soul in BC who is willing to review this effort (they're a Minister, a writer, AND passionate about Plotinus).
And as a messenger recently reminded me, I am on a quest for clarity. I'd love to hear if I helped to translate Plotinus' legacy clearly through this work. It sets the stage for a greater vision I have in mind.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
How Soft
Imagine the following setting: I am driving my 2 year old daughter to daycare, she's crying because she's just had 2 weeks vacation, struggling with the change in rhythm, and there's nothing I can say that will calm her down.
And so I turn on some music. I'm listening to Stefan Mitchell's album, Simple Gifts. I bought it at the Circle of Love. I simply asked Stefan to recommend the CD that meant the most to him.
What music! What a beautiful gift he has. Before long I was crying like a baby, my heart cracked open. For a while, both my daughter and I were crying.
And then then she fell silent, lulled by Stefan and love into a peace from her distress. The following poem came to mind as we finished the drive this morning and I thought I'd share it with you.
How Soft
How soft my face is now,
the tears of joy I've cried.
You cracked my heart wide open,
I feel You at my side.
How soft the melodies You breathe,
the sweetest words You call,
the quickening You bring to me,
through Your bliss, Your love, Your all.
How soft my eyes flood happiness,
Drenched windows to my soul.
But no windows are needed now,
For You've brought down the wall.
How soft my gentle heart is now,
my being and my self,
both expressing Your song in harmony,
in the ocean's drop Your wealth.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
And so I turn on some music. I'm listening to Stefan Mitchell's album, Simple Gifts. I bought it at the Circle of Love. I simply asked Stefan to recommend the CD that meant the most to him.
What music! What a beautiful gift he has. Before long I was crying like a baby, my heart cracked open. For a while, both my daughter and I were crying.
And then then she fell silent, lulled by Stefan and love into a peace from her distress. The following poem came to mind as we finished the drive this morning and I thought I'd share it with you.
How Soft
How soft my face is now,
the tears of joy I've cried.
You cracked my heart wide open,
I feel You at my side.
How soft the melodies You breathe,
the sweetest words You call,
the quickening You bring to me,
through Your bliss, Your love, Your all.
How soft my eyes flood happiness,
Drenched windows to my soul.
But no windows are needed now,
For You've brought down the wall.
How soft my gentle heart is now,
my being and my self,
both expressing Your song in harmony,
in the ocean's drop Your wealth.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Pre-Paving
Elizabeth Fayt came to the Edmonton Centre for Spiritual Living today. Her gift for simply stating obvious truths is profound. And her ideas around pre-paving add a beautifully clear voice to the chorus of Truth. While listening to her speak this morning she inspired the following.
Pre-Paving
Free-flow of my thinking,
By the morning's end I'm drowning
in vibration by default.
Not fit for the lover's crowning.
Swept away by this life,
in the back seat of the car.
More time spent choosing the model,
than connecting with my heart.
Let God flow through you freely.
Pre-pave the path you walk.
Take the turn in your hands,
mindful of thoughts, and your talk.
Think once of what you want.
Clean the slate and make all clear.
All memories of what has gone before,
Know your dreams are already here.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Pre-Paving
Free-flow of my thinking,
By the morning's end I'm drowning
in vibration by default.
Not fit for the lover's crowning.
Swept away by this life,
in the back seat of the car.
More time spent choosing the model,
than connecting with my heart.
Let God flow through you freely.
Pre-pave the path you walk.
Take the turn in your hands,
mindful of thoughts, and your talk.
Think once of what you want.
Clean the slate and make all clear.
All memories of what has gone before,
Know your dreams are already here.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
A Meditation in the One
The following poem came to mind during my meditation this morning. The way in which I perceive meditation has greatly shifted and I think this poem begins to capture this new perspective.
A Meditation in the One
At first I thought I was floating,
simply lifting away.
And then I knew it was simpler,
It was You having Your way.
Any sense of me now dwindling,
At once all was One, not two,
Emanation within now coursing,
I now know what I have to do.
To focus on One, not self.
To see simple in everything.
To be almost as equally simple.
To listen, rather than sing.
To know prudence, justice, and kindness.
To honestly temper their worth.
To generously lose real interest,
in those things now caught here on Earth.
The body is owed only duty,
passion must fade to the din.
My true person rooted in Mother,
sated with spendour within.
I drink Presence, pure and simple,
I embrace inner simplicity.
The body, the lower, the higher,
No longer the all of me.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
A Meditation in the One
At first I thought I was floating,
simply lifting away.
And then I knew it was simpler,
It was You having Your way.
Any sense of me now dwindling,
At once all was One, not two,
Emanation within now coursing,
I now know what I have to do.
To focus on One, not self.
To see simple in everything.
To be almost as equally simple.
To listen, rather than sing.
To know prudence, justice, and kindness.
To honestly temper their worth.
To generously lose real interest,
in those things now caught here on Earth.
The body is owed only duty,
passion must fade to the din.
My true person rooted in Mother,
sated with spendour within.
I drink Presence, pure and simple,
I embrace inner simplicity.
The body, the lower, the higher,
No longer the all of me.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Friday, August 21, 2009
No Concern of Yours
I got to thinking about unconditional love during a workshop with Dr. Rick Moss at the Circle of Love. In his session on relationships and love he talked about the idea that we often confuse like with love. And that for the most the concept of unconditional love is rare. If anything even mature romantic love that passes the early stages of infatuation is still based on an arrangement of receiving (if you're nice and do this, I'll be nice to you).
And the more I thought about the idea of what love should be the more I realized I aspire for spiritual partnerships in my life, not relationships. Surely the goal should be a love where the way in which I love is of no concern to the one being loved.
And why should there be concern from the one being loved? I love them plain and simple. I do not need them to feel any need to return this love in any form if it is unconditional.
No Concern of Yours
I love you,
and it's no concern of yours.
Without pre-conditions,
or regard for our flaws.
I cut the strings of hope,
I ask for nothing back,
True giving unconditionally,
No demands broken, or stacked
upon this love I give,
preference is not imbued.
No response to receiving,
or ever fulfilled anew.
This giving doesn't feel good,
it transforms and unites.
An expression of our nature,
not bestowed to excite.
From a natural state of being,
I'm your ocean and your shore,
I extend this love to you,
and it's no concern of yours.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
And the more I thought about the idea of what love should be the more I realized I aspire for spiritual partnerships in my life, not relationships. Surely the goal should be a love where the way in which I love is of no concern to the one being loved.
And why should there be concern from the one being loved? I love them plain and simple. I do not need them to feel any need to return this love in any form if it is unconditional.
No Concern of Yours
I love you,
and it's no concern of yours.
Without pre-conditions,
or regard for our flaws.
I cut the strings of hope,
I ask for nothing back,
True giving unconditionally,
No demands broken, or stacked
upon this love I give,
preference is not imbued.
No response to receiving,
or ever fulfilled anew.
This giving doesn't feel good,
it transforms and unites.
An expression of our nature,
not bestowed to excite.
From a natural state of being,
I'm your ocean and your shore,
I extend this love to you,
and it's no concern of yours.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
What's Inside You
Rumi was a Persian Sufi master who lived 1207-1273. I had heard snippets of his poetry and some quotes in the past. But at the Circle of Love I was truly introduced to Rumi by a Sufi Shaikh, Kadir Helminski.
I purchased a little book called, 'The Pocket Rumi'. And as I began to read through it I was struck, beautifully so, by the wisdom contained within. I suspect that posts and poems in the future will be inspired by Rumi (and will be introducing a new tag to allow readers to focus just on my poetry inspired by Rumi).
In the first section of the book, called Rubaiyat, I was struck by a verse numbered 491.
Whoever sees You and doesn't smile,
whose jaw doesn't drop with awe,
whose qualities fail to increase in a thousand ways,
can only be the mortar and bricks of a prison.
And then a poem was revealed.
What's Inside You
Think about the people,
you did not smile at today.
Did you fail to feel their Source,
did you cease to love their ways?
Were their warts your perception?
Did a 'feeling' not speak of God?
Was pretention hidden from you?
Was the best you could do a nod?
Then look to the bricks and mortar,
of who you must surely be,
and ponder, my beloved, for a moment,
what's inside you that you see.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen (Rumi verse copyright of Rumi)
I purchased a little book called, 'The Pocket Rumi'. And as I began to read through it I was struck, beautifully so, by the wisdom contained within. I suspect that posts and poems in the future will be inspired by Rumi (and will be introducing a new tag to allow readers to focus just on my poetry inspired by Rumi).
In the first section of the book, called Rubaiyat, I was struck by a verse numbered 491.
Whoever sees You and doesn't smile,
whose jaw doesn't drop with awe,
whose qualities fail to increase in a thousand ways,
can only be the mortar and bricks of a prison.
And then a poem was revealed.
What's Inside You
Think about the people,
you did not smile at today.
Did you fail to feel their Source,
did you cease to love their ways?
Were their warts your perception?
Did a 'feeling' not speak of God?
Was pretention hidden from you?
Was the best you could do a nod?
Then look to the bricks and mortar,
of who you must surely be,
and ponder, my beloved, for a moment,
what's inside you that you see.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen (Rumi verse copyright of Rumi)
A Messenger
I met a chap called Arnold at the Circle of Love. During a moment we shared he conveyed a message to me. He told me that he could see that I was on a quest for clarity. He said other things but truth be told I do not remember it all. But I do remember the overwhelming sense of love, and that he was delivering a message that I needed to hear.
I am on a quest for clarity. This new phase may be but a next-beginning, but it has begun in earnest.
A Messenger
You were a messenger,
Your words they touched so softly,
You spoke of clarity, of grace,
You were God in that place.
Your words words held me carefully,
You bowed as I did to,
Your hand I had to kiss,
And I cried the joy in you.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
I am on a quest for clarity. This new phase may be but a next-beginning, but it has begun in earnest.
A Messenger
You were a messenger,
Your words they touched so softly,
You spoke of clarity, of grace,
You were God in that place.
Your words words held me carefully,
You bowed as I did to,
Your hand I had to kiss,
And I cried the joy in you.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
For My Beloved Spiritual Partner
My wife is my spiritual partner. She sees me as I am and asks only that I see into her.
As I contemplated my recent work and the person I am now become I realized that in her is that place where my-self can be safe. Love flows between us. And love also brings up that which is not love. We are our partnership to reveal and release.
In recent times she has needed me. She has needed my intimacy. I see that now, and I listen.
For My Beloved Spiritual Partner
From the child lost and afraid,
and a life of abuse in my trust,
I have come now to clarity,
To look to you, speak as I must.
In to me, may you see,
For at last I have seen,
I am sure you will be pleased,
How within intimacy, we can be.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
As I contemplated my recent work and the person I am now become I realized that in her is that place where my-self can be safe. Love flows between us. And love also brings up that which is not love. We are our partnership to reveal and release.
In recent times she has needed me. She has needed my intimacy. I see that now, and I listen.
For My Beloved Spiritual Partner
From the child lost and afraid,
and a life of abuse in my trust,
I have come now to clarity,
To look to you, speak as I must.
In to me, may you see,
For at last I have seen,
I am sure you will be pleased,
How within intimacy, we can be.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
An Iranian Circle of Love...
I was sitting with some holy souls yesterday and overheard a conversation. Much to my delight I was able to listen. I did not comment upon the discussion but instead reflected upon what had been shared.
You will have likely heard of the unrest in Iran. Word has it that men are being paid to inflict physical pain and cause unrest amongst those that are meeting in protest at what is happening. Well, a story was shared about an incident in Iran that lifted my soul.
What lifted me? I heard of an event where some young people spotted some of these men beating up another man and simply formed a circle about them. They did not strike them. They did not threaten them. These young, beautiful Iranians simply held a consciousness of love. And the mercenaries of hate, well, they just stood there and melted.
Regardless of the hearsay or potential for deviation, what a beautiful story! And as for the discussion - what I did do was to write the following poem and share it with those who had discussed the story. This was the only thing I had to contribute to the conversation.
An Iranian Circle of Love
Even from the throne of dispair,
Something is kindred within,
To face the child's washed brain,
With love and smothering sin.
From the silver of dissent,
Young carers circle and smother,
The crowds silenced and still,
You are with us now, the lover.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
You will have likely heard of the unrest in Iran. Word has it that men are being paid to inflict physical pain and cause unrest amongst those that are meeting in protest at what is happening. Well, a story was shared about an incident in Iran that lifted my soul.
What lifted me? I heard of an event where some young people spotted some of these men beating up another man and simply formed a circle about them. They did not strike them. They did not threaten them. These young, beautiful Iranians simply held a consciousness of love. And the mercenaries of hate, well, they just stood there and melted.
Regardless of the hearsay or potential for deviation, what a beautiful story! And as for the discussion - what I did do was to write the following poem and share it with those who had discussed the story. This was the only thing I had to contribute to the conversation.
An Iranian Circle of Love
Even from the throne of dispair,
Something is kindred within,
To face the child's washed brain,
With love and smothering sin.
From the silver of dissent,
Young carers circle and smother,
The crowds silenced and still,
You are with us now, the lover.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Holy Man
Ah, David Leonard...what words could possibly relate your gifts, your love, your ability to draw such souls to a place.
I was deeply touched by the opportunity to get to know this man, this servant. When you see him you see the lover.
And during a meditation yesterday morning I had the occasion to find myself sitting next to him. As I deepened in the moment I could feel his love washing over me, his balanced energy dissolving with mine.
Holy Man
I sat next to a holy man,
His love washed over us all,
He had brought joy and gifts together,
Bright lights harkening his call.
My goo, my tears, my dissolving,
Our shared moments in bliss,
True thanks beyond the grasp of words,
But in rest our souls could kiss.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
I was deeply touched by the opportunity to get to know this man, this servant. When you see him you see the lover.
And during a meditation yesterday morning I had the occasion to find myself sitting next to him. As I deepened in the moment I could feel his love washing over me, his balanced energy dissolving with mine.
Holy Man
I sat next to a holy man,
His love washed over us all,
He had brought joy and gifts together,
Bright lights harkening his call.
My goo, my tears, my dissolving,
Our shared moments in bliss,
True thanks beyond the grasp of words,
But in rest our souls could kiss.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Falsetto Fit for a King
I've seen Martin Kerr perform before and have been inspired to buy his CD. But on Wednesday night I had the priviledge to witness Martin being moved by the Divine.
Falsetto Fit for a King
Like a drunken songbird,
With ginger grace and style,
Delivering an allelujah,
Stealing my heart for a while.
Falsetto fit for a king,
Tones soothing a queen,
Swaying melody his touch,
Passion beyond the seen.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Falsetto Fit for a King
Like a drunken songbird,
With ginger grace and style,
Delivering an allelujah,
Stealing my heart for a while.
Falsetto fit for a king,
Tones soothing a queen,
Swaying melody his touch,
Passion beyond the seen.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
A Sufi's Story
During the morning's session of Circle of Love I was able to hear and see Kabir Helminski, a shaikh of the Mevlevi Order of Sufism. With two gift musicians (Ruby - Lisa Ferraro & Erika Luckett) at his side, the trio shared a beautiful story of words and music.
Kabir began a weaving poems of Rumi and 11 songs from their album, On the Way of Love. I sat for the most part with my eyes closed, quickened by the experience. And as is my custom (now) I was inspired with a poem.
A Sufi's Story
We may not have the same context,
And we shall trust to our language of love,
I shall lovingly invite us one,
To have sweet Divine touch.
And even your chair of sharing,
Brought to us music and story,
These attributes to which I'm defenseless,
The root of our root our glory.
The sweetness of this fruit,
Description rarely understood,
We shall recklessly do justice,
To what you eat, drink, your food.
Suddenly there is essence of You,
Gently I ask, 'What is You?'
My cheeks vibrate and I float,
I breath into life, from Truth.
How could I go back to sleep now?
The fish are swimming together,
The butterfly dancing my mind's eye,
Drunken carousing, loosed tether.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Kabir began a weaving poems of Rumi and 11 songs from their album, On the Way of Love. I sat for the most part with my eyes closed, quickened by the experience. And as is my custom (now) I was inspired with a poem.
A Sufi's Story
We may not have the same context,
And we shall trust to our language of love,
I shall lovingly invite us one,
To have sweet Divine touch.
And even your chair of sharing,
Brought to us music and story,
These attributes to which I'm defenseless,
The root of our root our glory.
The sweetness of this fruit,
Description rarely understood,
We shall recklessly do justice,
To what you eat, drink, your food.
Suddenly there is essence of You,
Gently I ask, 'What is You?'
My cheeks vibrate and I float,
I breath into life, from Truth.
How could I go back to sleep now?
The fish are swimming together,
The butterfly dancing my mind's eye,
Drunken carousing, loosed tether.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Surrendering Breath
This morning I had the pleasure to attend a meditation session hosted by Terry Shea, Elika Luckett, and Nathan Aswell. Between them they conjured a sacred space, and I staggered from it like a drunkard. With a tankard of life in one hand and a pencil in the other I wrote this poem.
Surrendering Breath
Surrendering breath,
Devolve me now,
Carry me from complex,
Beyond a simple cloud.
Lost, dissolving and forgotten,
A birth of fiery breath,
Intimately resting in peace,
A place of nothing left.
I was given those aspects,
That would quicken this recall,
Focus of word and element,
To carry within Love's thrall.
Returned to mother and father,
Balanced and smudged anew,
Heart from flame and ashes,
Love my intimate cue.
Swaying like a tree,
In the breeze of your tones,
The scratch of a string,
Like the bird's call home.
Surrendered, I am now,
To words so softly said,
At the feet of these masters,
The sun above their heads.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Surrendering Breath
Surrendering breath,
Devolve me now,
Carry me from complex,
Beyond a simple cloud.
Lost, dissolving and forgotten,
A birth of fiery breath,
Intimately resting in peace,
A place of nothing left.
I was given those aspects,
That would quicken this recall,
Focus of word and element,
To carry within Love's thrall.
Returned to mother and father,
Balanced and smudged anew,
Heart from flame and ashes,
Love my intimate cue.
Swaying like a tree,
In the breeze of your tones,
The scratch of a string,
Like the bird's call home.
Surrendered, I am now,
To words so softly said,
At the feet of these masters,
The sun above their heads.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
I Had to Laugh at the Divine Design
In waking up today and preparing for another day at the Circle of Love I felt called to scan down to the bottom of my blogger page. I have a little app there that pulls on quotes from Socrates. Today's quote was:
I decided that it was not wisdom that enabled [poets] to write their poetry, but a kind of instinct or inspiration, such as you find in seers and prophets who deliver all their sublime messages without knowing in the least what they mean.
How perfect is that? As I look back at my past two blog posts and read that I am struck by how effortless spotting the Divine design can be. Apparently, when I listen I can find 'a kind of instinct or inspiration', and often I discover that such words have multiple layers of awareness, some of which I am sure I have yet to discover.
I decided that it was not wisdom that enabled [poets] to write their poetry, but a kind of instinct or inspiration, such as you find in seers and prophets who deliver all their sublime messages without knowing in the least what they mean.
How perfect is that? As I look back at my past two blog posts and read that I am struck by how effortless spotting the Divine design can be. Apparently, when I listen I can find 'a kind of instinct or inspiration', and often I discover that such words have multiple layers of awareness, some of which I am sure I have yet to discover.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Being's Fire I'm Seeing
I had to come back to this post and add some context. For you see it was written as a result of my listening. Much like an earlier experience in the day, I had been witness to a passionate and powerful performance. On one side I saw the passion and on the other the caring, the unleashing and the sharing. Elika and Lisa, this was inspired by you both.
Being's Fire I'm Seeing
I tremble at your moment,
I am moved from one to zero,
As you flip the binary switch,
The portal of our soul, our hero.
I burn in our fire,
As you unleash the being,
I jump to my feet, unbidden,
Recalling being's fire I'm seeing.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Being's Fire I'm Seeing
I tremble at your moment,
I am moved from one to zero,
As you flip the binary switch,
The portal of our soul, our hero.
I burn in our fire,
As you unleash the being,
I jump to my feet, unbidden,
Recalling being's fire I'm seeing.
(c) Copyright 2009, Carmien Owen
Just Listen...
I have the great pleasure to find myself at the Circle of Love, in Kelowna, Canada. This gathering of talented and gifted expressions of the Divine has touched me deeply. And while I feel drawn to express a little of my experience with you from today, there is nothing that I could write that could possibly capture the moment itself. Like the difference between the physical world and the spiritual one, my words are but a shadow, a pale reflected projection. But, I shall recklessly stand in my desire to fan your fire anyway, and share with you some of my fire from today.
I found myself in caught in a brief moment of panic. I had been journaling and writing some thoughts and suddenly looked up. The anxiety I felt had managed to make the heat of the sun dissipate from my neck; in the cold of the moment I suddenly realized that, 'I don't know' and yet there I was writing about things I thought I knew.
In that moment it became clear that if I didn't know then what was the point of writing. I pondered this for the briefest of moments. And before I was able to prolong this fixation Reverend David Leonard walked by. And following an exchange of greetings I shared what had just happened to me.
"Well my dear boy, there's nothing to be found in the book or your words. Just listen and it will be revealed."
I walked from that exchange and took it with me into the day. And what a beautiful day it was. The morning session featured Margaret Starbird. This is the woman who had over the past 20 years or so challenged her Catholic faith and embarked upon a quest to answer questions such as:
- Did Jesus have a bride?
- Who was the bride?
- And why had she been lost?
The result of her questions led to books such as the Lady and the Alabaster Jar, and In God's Name. In turn, her books inspired people such as Dan Brown to write the Da Vinci Code. Her story is an amazing one, and I am not about to belittle her expression through any crude reflection of my own.
But what I did do was listen. And in that listening I found myself in tears at the end. As what had been shared sunk in one line in particular stood out. She spoke that the choice to deny the bride of Jesus had led to tragic consequences. And from the standpoint of the material world I could feel compassion for victims of the inquisition, the patriarchal oppression of the feminine, and the lost opportunity of a world dominated by a lack of balance repressing the fusion of masculine and feminine in our thoughts, words and deeds.
And in my tears, as I considered what had just stunned me the following words flowed from my pencil. I count it my privilege to have then been able to find Margaret and share these words with her. For as much as I could feel compassion for the suffering, I knew that in the spiritual world all was well. That there her quest was an example of something worth rejoicing for.
Tragedy's Rejoice
Thank you for your quest,
For the limb you climbed along,
Sharing the fruit of your questions,
Your hearing the answer's song.
How many seeds have been lost,
Cast both to wind and ground,
both the tragedy and rejoice,
Bellows of union's sound.
Yet those questions, answers and numbers,
That you so artfully brought together,
Now offer forgiving in tragedy,
Both fish now swimming forever.
(c) Copyright 2o09, Carmien Owen
I found myself in caught in a brief moment of panic. I had been journaling and writing some thoughts and suddenly looked up. The anxiety I felt had managed to make the heat of the sun dissipate from my neck; in the cold of the moment I suddenly realized that, 'I don't know' and yet there I was writing about things I thought I knew.
In that moment it became clear that if I didn't know then what was the point of writing. I pondered this for the briefest of moments. And before I was able to prolong this fixation Reverend David Leonard walked by. And following an exchange of greetings I shared what had just happened to me.
"Well my dear boy, there's nothing to be found in the book or your words. Just listen and it will be revealed."
I walked from that exchange and took it with me into the day. And what a beautiful day it was. The morning session featured Margaret Starbird. This is the woman who had over the past 20 years or so challenged her Catholic faith and embarked upon a quest to answer questions such as:
- Did Jesus have a bride?
- Who was the bride?
- And why had she been lost?
The result of her questions led to books such as the Lady and the Alabaster Jar, and In God's Name. In turn, her books inspired people such as Dan Brown to write the Da Vinci Code. Her story is an amazing one, and I am not about to belittle her expression through any crude reflection of my own.
But what I did do was listen. And in that listening I found myself in tears at the end. As what had been shared sunk in one line in particular stood out. She spoke that the choice to deny the bride of Jesus had led to tragic consequences. And from the standpoint of the material world I could feel compassion for victims of the inquisition, the patriarchal oppression of the feminine, and the lost opportunity of a world dominated by a lack of balance repressing the fusion of masculine and feminine in our thoughts, words and deeds.
And in my tears, as I considered what had just stunned me the following words flowed from my pencil. I count it my privilege to have then been able to find Margaret and share these words with her. For as much as I could feel compassion for the suffering, I knew that in the spiritual world all was well. That there her quest was an example of something worth rejoicing for.
Tragedy's Rejoice
Thank you for your quest,
For the limb you climbed along,
Sharing the fruit of your questions,
Your hearing the answer's song.
How many seeds have been lost,
Cast both to wind and ground,
both the tragedy and rejoice,
Bellows of union's sound.
Yet those questions, answers and numbers,
That you so artfully brought together,
Now offer forgiving in tragedy,
Both fish now swimming forever.
(c) Copyright 2o09, Carmien Owen
Monday, August 17, 2009
Hold the Moment
I'm at a conference in Kelowna called Circle of Love. I am not going to get into any details on the conference just yet, except for one. Upon arriving on Sunday night I happened to meet a singer from Seattle called Stephan Mitchell.
At the time, he was someone who happened to be by the checkin desk, who overheard my asking the hostess about where I could buy something to drink, and then made a kind offer. We realized we were both at the conference and he let me know that I'd be welcome to join him on a grocery run.
As we got to talking he shared that he was a singer and was the featured artist on the Monday night. After more conversation I mentioned that I liked to sing and write songs myself. Not long after that he explained that he found melodies easy and words harder. I laughed as I pointed out that words for me are easy but melody.
And in that moment a synchronicity was revealed. From there I updated the song that I am now emailing to him. Isn't the connectedness of life beautiful?
Hold the Moment
Do your eyes well,
When you think from where you've come?
Does your faith light your grace,
Everything seen as One?
Do your feelings and beliefs,
Jump and cry aloud,
As peace with you shines,
And love within you shouts.
[CHORUS]
Hold the moment,
Hold the moment close and tight,
Perhaps there's a reason,
We were given the choice of sight?
Hold the moment,
Live like it's all today,
Fuse your grace with thoughts of love,
And love’s in what you say.
It's the practice,
That leads you to a place,
Where the sweet voice of Truth,
Makes the chaos fade.
I don't ever recall,
In such a space of time,
Being so rocked by condition,
Yet bouncing back in mind.
[CHORUS]
My spirit cries sweet tears,
Of joy and peace and love,
The beauty of the One,
From within to above,
It's clear to my eyes now,
Clearer than it’s ever been,
My heart touched so deeply,
My sight finally keen.
[CHORUS]
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
In a Perfect World
I was recently talking with a friend about an idea I have been mulling, concerning the clash of acceptance and our own values. One comment in a reply that stood out for me was, "in a perfect world..."
But what if it already is? Surely the only thing that separates us from the perfect world is our knowledge, thinking and vision?
The doubt that is central to struggling with this being a perfect world is, quite frankly, not natural. At least it is not natural from the world's perspective. Think about it. Nature doesn't doubt for one instant that things are perfect, exactly as they should be. Nature knows, and the physical world does. If the world sees itself as perfect, why can't we?
One idea I have is that we are simply caught in our own individual take on things. Like the child stranded amidst parents that rage, the teen that confuses emotion with knowledge, and the adult that is puppeteered by hidden wounds and values, our doubt is matched only by our individuality.
I was intrigued by the August issue of "Sky & Telescope" cover story. It turns out the sun, the physical light of our lives, is not acting quite as anticipated. Scientists are now discussing the idea that the sun may be approaching what is called a "sunspot minimum," something that happens every few centuries at most. Sunspots result in the sun producing more heat. Fewer sunspots would mean reduced radiation and, more importantly, a sunspot minimum "could partially offset global warming."
What if the physical universe is exactly as it should be? Without any direct interference from us the natural order of things can see fit to reduce heat from the sun at a time when it is most needed; in a time when concern for the environment is beginning to truly surge for the first time in our knowledge. What other unanticipated factors are there? Or better yet, so what?
I hear the statement "in a perfect world..." and I am here. Should such a utopian view arrest you? Does an optimistic passage from a far off writer deserve such faith? I hope not. Any choice you come to make will only mean anything real if it is backed by knowledge, by a reasoning of your vision. And so if you cannot accept this far off view of utopia, I ask only that you keep eyes and mind open for signs and clues.
But what if it already is? Surely the only thing that separates us from the perfect world is our knowledge, thinking and vision?
The doubt that is central to struggling with this being a perfect world is, quite frankly, not natural. At least it is not natural from the world's perspective. Think about it. Nature doesn't doubt for one instant that things are perfect, exactly as they should be. Nature knows, and the physical world does. If the world sees itself as perfect, why can't we?
One idea I have is that we are simply caught in our own individual take on things. Like the child stranded amidst parents that rage, the teen that confuses emotion with knowledge, and the adult that is puppeteered by hidden wounds and values, our doubt is matched only by our individuality.
I was intrigued by the August issue of "Sky & Telescope" cover story. It turns out the sun, the physical light of our lives, is not acting quite as anticipated. Scientists are now discussing the idea that the sun may be approaching what is called a "sunspot minimum," something that happens every few centuries at most. Sunspots result in the sun producing more heat. Fewer sunspots would mean reduced radiation and, more importantly, a sunspot minimum "could partially offset global warming."
What if the physical universe is exactly as it should be? Without any direct interference from us the natural order of things can see fit to reduce heat from the sun at a time when it is most needed; in a time when concern for the environment is beginning to truly surge for the first time in our knowledge. What other unanticipated factors are there? Or better yet, so what?
I hear the statement "in a perfect world..." and I am here. Should such a utopian view arrest you? Does an optimistic passage from a far off writer deserve such faith? I hope not. Any choice you come to make will only mean anything real if it is backed by knowledge, by a reasoning of your vision. And so if you cannot accept this far off view of utopia, I ask only that you keep eyes and mind open for signs and clues.
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