Adorable Kitty Fire-Pose Number 759

I have lit the fire for Grayson, and drug him out of his normal nap spot over to it, so that I can watch his adorable kitty fire-poses.  I love the way he opens himself, slowly, to its warmth.  Beginning in a tight little ball, hunkered down over his paws; opening himself to it gradually, turning this way, then that; until finally, he is sprawled out like a drunken man in his bed – limbs thrown out, body contorted, paws open to receive every delicious drop of warm firelight.  He is a picture of utter delight, or soon will be – he is only to stage two, relaxed, curled up in an ordinary napping position. 

During my prayer time this morning, I began by sensing the mantle of spirit energy that seems to envelope me.  I allowed myself to become more and more aware of it, and as I did so, it seemed to grow in its ardor, like a fire that is stoked.  As I became more aware of it, I realized that I was opening to it more and more and that it was infusing me at the same time, sending wonderful rays of love down into me, searching the ground of my being, seeking to connect with the center of my being.  This is the invocation of the Spirit, I realized, and so I began to recite the familiar words of the prayer that I learned years ago at Cursillo:  “Come, Holy Spirit:  Fill the hearts of the faithful, and kindle in us the fire of your love.  Send forth your spirit, and we shall be created, and You shall renew the face of the earth.  O God, who by the light of thy Holy Spirit did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that we may be truly wise, and ever enjoy your consolations.”  As I lay there, enjoying those holy consolations, I realized that the Spirit was doing its morning cleansing ritual, centering my being in love, collecting me around that center, ordering my life, my priorities, dispelling my fears, setting my inner compass.  I, on the other hand, was doing nothing but surrendering control, letting the Holy Fire have its way with me. 

That Holy Fire will lead me, perhaps where I might not otherwise choose to go – today, that happens to be my mother’s house.  It is no matter.  I am happy to go with that Holy Fire anywhere it leads, for I have begun to worship in the temple of its constant presence, carrying within me the fulfillment of my heart’s desire, kindled anew each morning in a morning-prayer ritual, a dance with the holy, living flame of love. 

I know if the flame ever begins to dim, that I can summon it back again – not with words, for now to me the words of invitation are mere symbols, not the actual act of invocation:  the true invocation is an act of loving surrender of the will.  It is born of an awareness of the Spirit of Love that already surrounds me, and that seeks to penetrate my being, to enliven me, to saturate every cell of my being with its gentle grace-infused energy.

I am becoming more courageous at work, more natural, more myself, I think, than I have ever been.  I am becoming the non-anxious presence that Jim mentioned recently.  That is easy to do, since I am no longer in control, and since I am on intimate terms with the One who is, and trust my Dear One with everything, including my life. 

Oh, life is so very easy these days.  My life has become as simple as Grayson’s – eating, bathing, sleeping, and wandering about in wonder, noticing everything.  Then returning to rest in the glow of the fire. 

There he goes – adorable kitty fire-pose number 759.

Fleas

 

Years ago, when I first started practicing law, an older and wiser lawyer came to visit our small county.  After experiencing the questionable ethics of some of my collegues, he cautioned me, “You need to be careful practicing law around these characters.  You lie with dogs, you get fleas.”  That was solid advice. 

Today, driving home for lunch, I pulled out into traffic, a respectable distance in front of another car.  Not only did the driver not slow down for me, he actually sped up, threatening to run into me from behind.  “Get out of my way!” his driving etiquette screamed at me, “Don’t you know this is MY road?” 

How often have I behaved that way myself, acting as if the road belonged only to me, and everyone else on it was in my way?

As I thought about it, I was reminded of the flea comment from years ago.  Have I simply driven on the road with angry dogs for so long, I have picked up their fleas?  I suspect so.  Perhaps it is time for a good dose of flea powder. 

And maybe that is what being “in the world, but not of the world” is all about.  Learning to live life without picking up fleas.  Keeping our own sense of balance. 

Thoughts, anyone?

Ants

I found myself itching unexpectedly yesterday after being outside, with some sort of bug bites on my ankles and legs.  I am a mosquito magnet, and so I expected they were to blame, but I hoped not:  I had been exploring a new area and had seen no evidence of mosquitos.  And so I conducted an experiment:  I began to scratch. 

“Stop that!”  a friend prompted.  “You’ll make them worse.” 

I tried to explain the experiment:  “I’m not sure what kind of bites these are,” I said, “But they don’t feel like mosquito bites.”  (Yes, it is true:  I am SUCH a bite magnet that I have learned the nuances of the effects of various toxins on my skin.  Mosquito bites, if left alone for the first hour or so, will simply go away.  These bites, however, began to itch several hours later, suggesting mosquitoes were not to blame.  But I digress.)  I went on: “If I scratch them, and they blister, they are ant bites.”  My friend seemed unimpressed. 

Sure enough, the next day, several little blisters appeared over the bites.  “Eureka!”  I exclaimed.  “Ants!”  (It takes very little to get me excited these days.)  And, sure enough, after a little investigation, we found a whole host of little ants, so small that their initial bites were hardly noticeable.  That is good news, since ants are much easier to exterminate from an area than mosquitos.

The point of all that, is simply to say that when we are called to experiment with life, or take a walk, or go on a pilgrimage, it will very likely seem pointless, even foolish to people.  Even our closest friends.  But if we are comfortable enough in our own skin, and trust what we know about ourselves, about how we react and respond to situations, then perhaps we will have the courage to take a step or two, anyway.   And that, it seems to me, is where the adventure begins – at that point where the roads diverge, and we have an opportunity to explore territories that will remain hidden if we do not go there.  Because others do not see the point of it, the door is hidden to them.     

Thoughts, anyone?

Another Eden

In the beginning

All was lush as wet spring grass

Boughs laden with ripe fruit

Were easy, everything

Was easy

 

Your touch was soft

As the summer wind

That brings a kiss

Of rain just before

Nightfall

 

And it never occurred to me

That there would be autumn

Or winter, or that

A kind of death

Was ripening there