Seeker Magazine

AVANT SOUL

Rhapsodies in Words

to reawaken our fascination with the ever-original SOUL

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Through the Bushes:
A Philosophical Look At Survival Through the Next Four Years



What a Difficult Time

We want to keep our minds entertained,
Our emotions fulfilled,
Our bodies fed,
Our bills paid
Our families nurtured
Make a difference in this world
And try to pay just the right amount of attention
To the idiots running the place

We want to be honest
Even when we know others are cheating
We don't want to be caught with our pants down
Unless it's with someone who truly appreciates
Our efforts

And all the while
We're supposed to turn off the lights when we leave the room
And invite the Divine Grace of the most All-Loving Spirit
To breathe inspiration into our actions
To remind us that this is still the most miraculous place
Stunning and heartbreaking with its gravity

What a difficult time
To actualize the sacred moment in every breath
When it's all we can do not to belittle and mock
The petty tyrants robbing the planet of kindness

What a difficult time to make a difference
When the only standards are really your own
When you excuse in yourself what annoys you in others
When you forget to honor your parents who brought you here:

Mother Earth
Father Sky
And the swirling infinite Heavens which blaze into distances
Greater than any of your awards, your degrees, your trophies
Until it is clear that all that will be lasting

Is the way you honored yourself in your darkest hour
Is the time you stopped doing the one thing
That held you back
And you thought no one was watching
Except all of eternity


You won't often make the 6 o'clock news,
Thank God,
For each decision you make in this painted canvas:


      Where each action has a color
      Staining the glass window of your soul
      Until when your life is over

The color of every breath,
The shade of every act of kindness,
The pigment of every moment of courage,

Until you have colored that layering glass
And completely filled in all the empty spaces
      of your existence

And as the light leaves your eyes

      This same light will shine through
      Each and every hue and cry,
Remark, and word, and action

Which you have painted             -daily-
Into the stained glass of your soul,
Shining through this cathedral of Time

Which, as you curse on the freeway,
You have perhaps momentarily forgotten

Light is shining
Thank God the gas company & the electric company
Are not in charge of the sun
Or the stars
Or have placed a bond to be repaid in ten years
For the piss poor management of California,
Or Washington,
Or Texas,
Or Florida.

Name your state
                        of consciousness.

Just as you might want to thank
The miracle that there may well be a Creator
Just in case
All those things that are vexing you
All those crooked world leaders
All those devious, pitiful utilities
Trumpeting platitudes to the media spin cycle
Shall never confuse you as to the real meaning
Of why YOU are here. . .

It isn't to slay dragons
Larger and more stupid than you can ever be
It is, instead, in these difficult times
To find your sacred expression in the tumult of the masses
To be heard in the devastating quiet
When you are totally alone


When the TV is turned off,
The radio, phone and barrage of banter
Placed in a momentary freeze
When the ads and signs and tabloids
Have been shut out, and you are alone


And even your kids or lover or parents
Or those you care for are dozing,
At that moment
      there is a still, small voice
      waiting for you in the wild terror of emptiness

Be not afraid. It is a voice which doesn't need electricity
And doesn't really care about debts, bonds, or bills

You know what it says
You know what you must do

To unfold like a sacred rose being reborn
And in this most astounding pale violet light of clarity
You will recapture the absolutely pure, unblemished self:

This self doesn't strive
This self doesn't worry or agonize
This self has never left you
This self has simply been waiting
For this devastatingly quiet moment of attention . . .

It hands you some fairly strong glass cleaner, and says,
      "Clean your window!"
            "Let the light shine through!"
                  "Quit stalling!"
                        "Acknowledge right now the procrastination
                              which has been controlling YOU!"

And then this self, which has no judgment,

And has no recriminations,

And actually loves you more
      than the parts of you
            which are, daily, annoyed

Smiles, for it knows that you will leave it,
Only to return
At a moment just like this one,

When no matter how difficult are the times,
When no matter how busy you've allowed yourself to become,
You will STOP.                  Just like that.

      To let something more loving
      And less critical than your daily mind
      Shine through the pure glass window of your Soul
Where, with this ammonia of clarity,
You shall wipe away the self-judgment
And wipe away the smirking grime, to begin discovering

The genuine face of your inner being,
Ageless
Pure
Loving
And incredibly adventurous:

Without fear you will see
That suffering is an option
And that joy is a natural state
When you cease being annoyed.



(Copyright 2001 by Darius Gottlieb - No reproduction without express permission from the author)

Letter to the Author at CelloMorpheus@aol.com

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