Perfect Time

"Time is the essence

Time is the season

Time ain't no reason

Got no time to slow..." 

~ Blue Oyster Cult

“The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.” ~ Bertrand Russell 

Time is on my mind this morning.  And even though I have a very long list of things to do today (and seemingly no time at all), I'm taking the time to stop by this blog. 

On the surface, it seems I can't slow down enough to do the things most meaningful to me, and lately, those things are becoming more meaningful than ever.  Could it be it's time to shift my relationship with time?

I find it fascinating that years ago, when I was undoubtedly the busiest of all, working 50-60 hours per week in the office, I still managed to come home and write reams of material in the Oprah forum.   I would even sneak in writing time on my lunch hour.  The same was true for research, as I very effectively launched more than one project back then, projects that remain unfinished today.  That was 2008.  How did it ever manage to be 2013 so very quickly?

Unfinished projects demand resolution.  Still others demand to be started.  And it's easy to fall into the mind trap of regret. 

But instead, I realize this issue actually has more to do with trust than time.  When I look at the past, if I choose to accept and not to judge, then I must trust that no moment was actually ever wasted, not even one. 

And this doesn't change at all my intent to more mindfully manage my moments in the present.  All it does is give me peace.

Perhaps it really is very simple.  There never was and never will be a better time than Now.

Veiled

Love lifts the veil of Fear and weds us to Peace.

Last night when I would normally be writing in this blog, I was waiting on the line for a radio show. Since well-after-midnight blog entries are becoming the norm rather than the exception, and 6 AM comes early, I decided to opt for sleep.

Something came up while I waited on the line, something I've been pondering a while.  The topic had to do with salvation returning from the sky, whether alien, Jesus or otherwise.  A caller with a Southern backwoods twang in his voice confidently shared his faith in the Jesus variety of return.  But this would not be the loving Jesus, he reminded us all, this warrior Jesus would come to judge us all and rule with "an iron rod". 

And there it was.  The contradiction.  Astoundingly blatant, yet astoundingly veiled.

What would this man think if he realized it's not just distant evildoers to be subject to the sword, but neighbors, dear friends, even beloved family.  I pondered a rather bold and poignant response, but chose to stay on my intended topic. Love will lift all veils of fear in time.

Leap

Taking a leap into your dreams is easy when you hold hands with the Multiverse.

I happened to come across a video today which carries many lessons.  I decided to just list some random thoughts very quickly since it is once again getting late, yet I'm committed to being here tonight.  Open the video in a separate window to follow along...

Separation.
Dismay.
Yearning.
Quandary.
Hesitation.
Fear.
Indecision.
Doubt.
Innovation.
Movement
Misdirection?.
Following.
Now what?
Lagging.
Couldn't be worse.
Catching up.
Serendipity.
Eureka.
Courage.
Faith.
Leap.
Wayshower.
Reunion.
Yes!
Wow.
How?
Interference.
Inspiration.
Example.
Hesitation.
Consciousness.
Critical mass.
Quantum Leap.
Reunited.
Peace.
Love.
Joy.
Heaven on Earth.

Storm

Last night I talked about a perfect metaphysical storm, just to watch the tragedy of actual storms unfold today in Oklahoma.  The storms today are reminiscent of another outbreak precisely on this date in 1957, including the infamous F5 Ruskin Heights tornado in Kansas City.

My heart goes out to anyone impacted by a tragedy this severe.  This will be a simple post, no grand philosophies tonight, just thoughts and prayers for all who are suffering on the planet, just faith the Dawn is near.

A Perfect Storm

Converging waves of synchronicity create a Perfect Storm.

It's storm season.  I remember it well.  I have experienced several storms in my life, many of them both  frightening and exhilarating at the same time, most of them in Kansas. 

Yet nothing quite compares to a Perfect Storm of synchronicity, another type of storm entirely.   Like Dorothy, it seems I have opened a door to a world of vivid technicolor.

First came the personal, mostly private breakthroughs, one after another, week after week.  The very fact I'm writing in this blog is a tangible result.  Synchronicities were everywhere, supporting me every step of the way.

Then came Friday, a day I will never forget.  Earlier in the week, my Blog Talk Radio show The Frontier Beyond Fear had been miraculously granted "Featured Host" status, highlighting all of my shows as "Featured" back to the very first show in 2010. 

On Friday, my show was selected as a Staff Pick, the first time one of my shows in the past has been chosen due to quality of content (I have had several future shows selected).  Retroactive Staff Picks are rare and reserved only for the best of shows, so this was a great honor.  But little did I know where that would lead...

That night at the McMinnville UFO Festival, something unexpected occurred.  My Facebook update below tells the tale...

Listen here to the Ground Zero Radio segment where I appear, just start at about 19:00 to get the full impact.

Susan Larison Danz with Clyde Lewis (Photo Credit: Brian Trotter)

The waves of synchronicity converged.  Finally the Perfect Storm is here, the perfectly miraculous storm.  It's exhilarating, just like the storms that intrigued me in Kansas, and really not all that frightening, though where it may take this Dorothy is yet to be seen.  I'm certainly not in Kansas anymore.  It looks a lot like Heaven.  It looks a lot like Home. 

Milestone

"There isn't any secret. You sit down and you start and that's it." ~ Elmore Leonard

Thus ends a month of blogging every night.  What's next?  The book of course! 

Flow

Late again...if I keep this up, these will be my morning papers!  Apparently I wasn't supposed to share another poem from my youth since I found myself utterly exhausted, wondering how in the world I was going to write anything  Then I must have fallen asleep in my comfortable rocking chair, my favorite place to sit with my laptop, and here I am.  Thankfully I don't have an early morning (for once, it seems).


A conversation on my radio program earlier today (with Barbara Schacker, Global Awakening) has led me to ponder how many of us are beginning to find ourselves in a much more "organic" world.  It's a world of much more fluidity than discrete definitions.  Many of us like to think that we "go with the flow" in our lives, but I wonder just how often we actually manage to do so.  In our world of discrete definitions, there are plenty of barriers to keep life from from truly flowing freely from the heart, yet if we surrender to the power of our creative potential, the flow creates itself.

A favorite classical piece of mine is The Moldau, Smetena's expressive symphonic poem about the river he dearly loves.  Listen closely here.   I have known many mountain streams in my life, and so I can "see" this river well (and perhaps some day, I will finally be fortunate enough to see it for real).

At the beginning, the awakening flow is virtually imperceptible, distinct elements joining together in a dance of potential.  You can literally hear how the quietly growing stream flows easily over the discrete rocks in its way, finding its playful path.  It's wonderful to listen to the gentle voice of streams at this stage - I could literally do so for hours.

Then the stream begins to grow.  As it gains in maturity, there is more sophisticated interaction with its surroundings, including the people who begin to appreciate its beauty and the gifts it brings.  There is mystery too as night falls, yet it flows undeterred by the darkness, the moonlight lending even greater beauty.

Then the channel narrows.  I know many rivers at this stage.  This is perhaps the most challenging part of the flow, yet also its most powerful.  If the flow truly desires to be free, the more discrete limitations placed upon it, the more the existing landscape attempts to channel its energy, the stronger it becomes.  There can even be a sense of peril perceived by those with whom it interacts, yet the flow of its creative purpose yearns to break free.

The rapids pass.  Liberation.  Stillness.  Hidden depths take form.  At this point, I must admit I become wistful following the river, as in Smetena's world it enters into a city, and I find myself rather sadly pondering   its playful beginnings.  Yet one wonders if the multiple dimensions of this flow can actually exist in parallel.

In the end, Smetana's now majestic river lends the power of its full creative contribution to the Greater Unity of another, and one can imagine the Ocean that awaits.  One could say our beautiful little stream disappears, but does it really?

Travelers

It is once again very late, yet still I'm here.  I pondered breaking the chain of posts, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

I was pondering earlier why I choose to share my youthful poems in this space when I'm tired.  It's really very simple.  It would have made her very happy, the person I was back then, who hid most of her poems in a notebook.  It doesn't even matter to me if some of them are a bit awkwardly worded here and there.  They were her poems, and she treasured them, my younger self, and they are still meaningful to me today.  She had wished some of them might be published.  I'm granting her wish, now.

Here is another one.  It's quite a bit older.  I had just turned 14 when I wrote it.  It actually had an entire melody I wrote to go with it, a rather wistful tune.  I used to spend many an evening outside looking at the stars.  I would sneak outside after my parents went to sleep.  I was looking for something...

Travelers
(A song)

They were new to this world
for they came from the skies
Bringing mystery along

When they fell to the earth
the sky was ablaze
And the stars sang their song

We are travelers from a distant galaxy
We come in peace for you
We come in peace

They said don't be afraid
We will do you no harm
Soon we'll be on our way

So I heeded their words
All fear left my mind
my heart filled with joy
As I realized what was occurring
Once more they sang...

We are travelers from a distant galaxy
Come with us now
Will you...come with us now

So I listened to them
And decided to go
Knowing not what lay ahead

So aboard I did climb
And flew out into space
Only mystery to come

We are travelers from a distant galaxy
Now I will join hands with you
Join hands with you.

Susan Larison, 1978

New Beginnings

Its been a long day and a long weekend, so I'll rely on the voice of my teens yet again.  And yes, one of these days, I will try my hand at poetry again (not just the single line variety).  I do have some other poems from adulthood I have not yet shared, but it's been several years since I have attempted to write one.

This poem I wrote primarily within the context of seeking new spiritual horizons, no longer following the evangelical belief system of my parents and just becoming aware of what was often called "The New Age Movement" at the time.  I was also nearing college at the time I wrote it, and I was yearning to be free.

It has a certain maturity to it, reflecting an awareness of (or at least a hope for) an unconditional kind of love, through which someone who loves you is happy for you if you are happy, no matter what choices you ultimately make. 

I'm not sure I completely realized at the time just how relevant a poem like this can be throughout one's life, in many contexts...



New Beginnings

I look to the horizon
    as brightness creeps upon the sky
But then I hear you call my name,
    shrieking through the wilderness of night
I turn to gaze your way
    but only darkness fills my eyes
A wistful tear rolls down my cheek
For I must spend this time alone.
Tempt me not to retread steps
    already followed long ago
The choice to strike out has been made.
To go back would be foolish now
    That world's no longer mine.
I know my heart has not yet found
    the peace it deeply yearns
For I am neither here nor there,
    balancing on the borderline of destiny.
And when I somehow find my way
    to a place I can call home,
Then I will face you once again,
    my life aglow with the smile
        of contentment.

~ Susan Larison, 1982

Surrender

The path of surrender is sacred ground.

It seems change is in the wind.  When I was young, I remember so vividly the power of the wind.  Every winter in Colorado, we would get Chinook winds off the mountains.  They were particularly strong in Boulder, where I went to college, with gusts easily exceeding 70 mph.  We walked to class anyway, and depending on the direction you chose, you were either resisting the wind or surrendering to its power.  

On the spiritual path, we like to believe that we can direct the wind that carries our lives.  And to a certain degree, I believe that is true.  Yet we also have much to learn about all that is possible.

There is a passage in the Bible that is far more meaningful to me now than it was years ago:

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." ~ 1 Corinthians 13:12

Seeing through a glass darkly is part of the Planet Earth experience.  I believe we set it up that way. 

Every path leads to our higher path, like tributaries of a stream.  It's a grand adventure to explore the many paths we see and even blaze new trails.  But when the winds of change arrive, and we know that this is so, if we simply surrender to its power, we can trust the Wind to carry us exactly where we need to go.

Poetry in Disguise

I mentioned in a recent post that I might try my hand at poetry again.  Then I realized that thanks to social media (especially Twitter), I never really stopped.  The poems just got shorter.  Call it Twitter Haiku.  ;-)  In fact, this isn't even a new discovery, as I once tweeted long ago "Twitter: The poet's playground, one line at a time..."

The heart space is an unusual dimension - the more it expands, the closer those within become

Those who first played with fire led the rest in from the cold.

Love builds gates in fences.

You are the warden of the prison of your fears.  Only you can set yourself free.

A mutual embrace with God requires rising from one's knees.

The night cannot conquer the Dawn.

Our fears and insecurities are but tiny bits of sand in an Ocean of Love and Empowerment.    

The raging flames of fear cannot ultimately resist the gentle rains of Love.

If you choose to see heaven, it will be all around you.

Be still and know that We are Love.