What is Real? (ramblings)

What is real? I don’t think it’s any secret.I search for the true.For too long, this truth I sought came from outside my body.I was trained to believe the experts.Those who study harder, know better and have the answers.They are above me — or so I believe.Blindly, I ingest their words as “what is real”. As a young mom, I sit in a doctor’s office. With trepidation, I admit I may be in a state of mild depression. The wise doctor looks at me and says, “No you don’t. I know depression and you don’t have it.” He babbles on….

Feast of Mary Magdalene (Legacy of Voice and Heart)

Today, I celebrate Mary Magdalene —and her story with Christ. She had an intimate friendship with Christwhose presence transformed her. Yet, her experience with Christ wasn’t believed: From Mark 16:1-20, Mary was the first to encounter the risen Christ,“Excitedly, Mary told them, “He’s alive and I’ve seen him!” But even after hearing this, they didn’t believe her.” From the Gospel of Mary Magdalene (page 17 v14-20)once Mary Madelene was given access to sacred knowledge from Christand she shared it with the other disciples, “And Peter added:How is it possible that the Teacher talkedin this manner, with a woman,about secrets of…

Something to Celebrate (More on Soul Care)

This is no ordinary day. Today, she hears it said,“Love your neighbor as yourself.”* (as yourself)(as yourself) This echo ripples through her core. She had never heard it this way.It was usually:Love God. Love others.The end. (as yourself)(as yourself) There it is again. A bell rings within. “If I’m to love my neighbors as myself, How DO I love myself?” she ponders. Her non-stop days of hustle bustle come to mind.Quick eating. Limited exercise. Doing for others. Crumbs leftover for herself. She catches a snippet of harsh self-criticism in her mind;a thought she’d never dare say to another. Hmph. (as…

Sacred Treasure

I have heardthere is goldbeyondthe dollar,a treasure where deep joy abidesdespite the desperate web of storiesspun to seize. I am toldto seek thisfleck of honeypast the irate voiceswho squawk from one channelof persuasion andwiden my scopeto the holy court where wholeness and grace residesfor all. I learnthis wealthisn’t found inunbendable beliefof the left or right,rather is coaxedfrom betweenmy tears asI sway gentlyto see all anglesof the firm structuresin place. There, at the slim pocket offorty-two degrees,in the region of the heart,a rainbow ribbonof organic delightis glimpsed.Her eyes catch minewith a gaze of love;she reassures“I am here with you.” I breathe…

There She Goes

a quiet launch,bread rises with no fanfare a summer silence,petal leaf opens to the light of the moon a first flight,baby bird wings span to trust the air Sandwiched in the middle ofriots and illness,anger and death, a door appears.Possibility greets her. The hidden Holy trails beside her,visible form emerges before her. She follows the splendor of ideasto see them come to fruition. There is no-one there to witness.No balloons lifted.No congratulations spoken.No pat on the back. It’s a silent reckoning.a nod to herself —she is doing the workshe is called to do. She sparks the sage,arms move to the…