It comes on full and empty, a Gardenia scent of moss and dreaming, fully conscious, hearing, feeling ~ All with all attending, absent while present, and prescient, still, moved by nothing, by no thing, yet in, as, and through you, through me, and through the tree outside the window and your voice, your voice over the phone, completing the circle ~ it has come.

Of Gertrude and Virginia I know enough to know the fullness, thereof.



Sometimes, in drifting to sleep, the Realm of Between stretches like taffy, prolonging conscious machinations of the brain to constrain while constructing a scene, the beginnings of a dream.

A not-meant-to-be somehow ~ within this tarrying and taffied Between ~ will build itself, and just as interest compounds onto plot, it bursts (the scene does) like a seam when one has grown too fat.

The scene bursts and sparks, making legs shoot from semi-fetal position (and arms shoot somewhere, I am sure) as the body leaves the bed secontarily (like momentarily, but faster).

And wide awake in this jerk, the realization comes to mind that some way of thinking has vanished, forever, in this flash.

And with some state that should have adrenaline attached but doesn’t, pondering oceans and the chantings therein, one imagines mala between the fingers and puts the body to sleep by way of being the traffic outside the window, chanting the sea.

I love being alone; I enjoy my own company and the silence ~oh, the Silence!

I have time to create, when I am alone. That, in itself, is very precious to me.

I have good friends, very good friends, & I welcome their company :)

Over the years, I have discovered that Alone and Lonely are two different things. I don't recall being lonely since I was a child; it was then, that I learned to enjoy my own company.

A young lover told me once, "I finally understood, yesterday, why you like being alone so much... I LOVE being alone with you; you must love it too." That may well be the sweetest compliment I've ever had.

How would it be to not like being alone? I don't know; I honestly don't. I'd have to be an entirely different person, I guess.

I am so grateful for my talents; they keep me company. I am so greatful for God and beauty and silence. They say "Silence is Golden" but I think, maybe, it's a rainbow.

Namaste

Seek Truth within what the other is saying. Sometimes its hard to see; but it's there. I discovered this secret, one night in a dream. To read it, click on my pic, and read my blog:

The scene: Reminiscent of a Greek temple, pleine aire; columns dispersed like forest trees, throughout, in no calculated configuration... except, perhaps, Fibonacci.

White marble everywhere. White, white, everywhere. Kitoned figures float, angel-like, about, some whose heads bear chaplets of flowers, vines or lace. It's difficult to decipher whether the chaplets speak testimony to rank; equanimity is the order here, in this infinite world, here in this room, here in this Temple that seems to spread out everywhere, amorphously.

White linen and lace-covered tables, laden with delicacies from many worlds, grace the rooms, throughout. Quiet conversations scatter about, spoken as if in reverence for a nearby sleeping babe.Perfect acoustics are, of course, one benefactor of this aspect of our leisure, honoring each with the ability to speak freely and openly, though a seperate conversation be enlivened, close at hand.

It helps, of course, to know that each of us knows exactly what is being spoken throughout the room, telepathy being a gift we each share, as we are uniquely separate and joyous manifestation of One Being.

Beyond the columns, a glimpse of sky in tones of periwinkle and rose, speak of sunset and the coming of stars ~ a sight to behold in itself. Swirling, brightly bejeweled paisley-patterned pictures with scatterings of iridescent glitter, appear to paint themselves upon indigo velvet, inviting one to pluck, while simultaneously joyous to be simply adored: sky-orchids adorning a summer-night's field.

A view that catches one's eye,  words spoken directly to us... these things tells each where to place his or her focus at the moment. Other sights, smells, sounds, including other conversations, serve as SuperConscious "background noise" ~ a symphonic configuration similar to crickets and cicadas in Summer.

This is how we enjoy "Separation" in Unity Consciousness. This is the Divine Inheritance of All Beings.

Welcome Home.

Compared to my "waking footing" I virtually float past the pool on my right~ a sacred pond, kidney-shaped, if kidneys had three bulbs... heart-shaped, if each point of the Heart were rounded. Beyond the pool stands stately glass that begins to reflect the candlelight within, as periwinkle skies give way to midnight-blue and dazzling paislies.

My peripheral vision expresses gratitude to the altars, well-kept, at each bulb of the pond.

I converse, lightly with a party ~ a Separate-Self ~ regarding the concensus made at this Gathering. A delightful discord makes itself known in the inner Symphony of Superconsciousness, as another Separate-Self joins our conversation.

She turns to me and reverently requests:

"Will you please go with me into the water?"

"Of course," I smile. "Right now?"
"Yes, please."

Our companion in conversation smiles, her inner-voice resounding her "Yes!" bows her "Namaste" and the gloriously-laden discordant Self and I walk to the pool and step into it.

The liquid Blessings welcome us, pulling us each toward different bulbs of the pond. I bless, with gratitude, the pull of the waters whose subtle currents converse with our individual vibrations to direct us into the Truth of this encounter, by taking us each to the altar that resounds with our current vibratory emissions.

As I tread the waters, feeling the subtle pulls and resistances, I note in my "waking self" that the water is like unto the feeling of ripe kiwi meat, were it liquid. It gives way to my treadings and guides my limbs in the same way that my tongue slides round the succulent fruit.

Each item of "my" altar informs and communes with me, regarding the thought processes of my companion in this watery world. There are no words to describe my new understandings of both her's and my point of view. These new understandings are purely and completely, subjectively experienced.

When "my" altar has completed its conveyance, I am pulled toward my companion at "her" altar. Swimming over to her, I notice my filmy gown swirls in this water like wisps of clouds.

As I reach her, I pause with her at a statue of the Divine Mother in All Her Glory. I see and feel, as my own, my companion's point of view, which has been pinpoint-focussed upon one element of the discussion of our Gathering. A view overlooked, except for this particular Self's holding fast to it... and only to it.

Her fast-holding to this point of view has given rise to the discord, for the harmony of the symphony had not reached her... though she saw it and perceived it in the rest of us, it had eluded her.

I honor her contribution. I acknowledge that she saw something ~ an intrinsic portion of the whole picture ~ that none of the rest of us had noted. I saw how that part fit within the Whole, and how the agreement made through the concensus, was made even more valid by her contribution.

The "picture," now, complete, is obvious by the gleam in her eye. I feel her gratitude as she accepts the honor now bestowed upon her contribution. As she acknowledges, with me, the value of her puzzled piece, the symphony, now, comes into harmonious resolution.







Our bodies, there, are like unto the density of water, and the water as Light & Air. One we are with Everything, so our interactions, as our infrastructures, are exquisite and ecstatic in their subtleties. We are all Bio-plasmic Light in its purest state, while at the same time, separate things.





When telling my daughter of this dream, I gave her the following analogy, as metaphor:

It's like we were incorporating this color in our work. We were calling it "this blue". During the gathering, the woman I later went into the water with, kept wanting to call the color "yellow." She agreed that we should be using this color, and since she was obviously the only one who perceived it as yellow, kept silent throughout the meeting. Consensus was made. Although she outwardly said nothing, she kept vibing "YELLOW!" ~ hence the dischordant note in our harmonic convergence. When I went into the waters with her, I understood: This color, a very BLUE turquoise is turquoise by the contribution of YELLOW to make the green which is mixed with blue to make green. (Yellow and blue make green; the more yellow the brighter spring green, the more blue, the more the color turquoise comes into play.)

(Now, I know there is some discussion, here on earth, regarding what the true-primary colors are, being different when dealing with light or paint. I cannot comment on this, except to say, when we, on Earth, deal with "light" colors, we still work witn an intermediary: films for stage-lighting, computer programs, and such.)

In the dream, e had discussed the vibration of GREEN and its contribution to the work this particular "blue" will be used in, however, we had not acknowledge the "silent" contribution that YELLOW is making to the mix.

YELLOW MUST BE HONORED HERE. I honored the insight of my sister in the waters with me, by recognising the contribution that she was trying to make, but did not, at the time, have the words for. I telepathically conveyed to her, in our embrace, that the contribution of YELLOW will certainly be noted and honored in our work with this shade of blue. She then saw the BLUE as BLUE ~ but with a deeper, richer understanding of it... as did we all. Harmony was thus established, and we could then go about our work.