Month: September 2022

by Frederica Helmiere

My wife keeps finding new books about relationships with bees. That’s what first drew me to this article. And his spiritual connection to bees is moving and profound. But I found much more to love and recommend you take the time to read it all.

For instance: “…

What I have seen is if you don’t follow your heart, you will regret it, because your mind is a coyote. It thinks it knows what it’s looking at, but it’s all smoke and mirrors. Even though the coyote tells a great story, he has no concern whether the story is true or not. He tells a good one, so we listen to it. But your heart is an eagle, and it operates on a whole different level. Eagles never experience the storm. They’re always flying above it. The storm is like a foreign concept to an eagle; it doesn’t worry about what’s happening down there. The eagle in our heart is not a good storyteller, but it always tells the truth. The truth is often simple, so the eagle doesn’t really talk much. 

We spend a lot of time fretting over the past or imagining the future, and maybe we imagine to the point where we become anxious about it. Like, I got this appointment tomorrow, or I should have said something yesterday and I feel so bad. We live in the past or we’re thinking about the future, but what the rewilding part loves is this particular moment in time.”

It was behind a pay wall so I copied it in its entirety into a Google doc for all of you, my beloveds. However please don’t share it except with a small group of your own beloveds.

Enjoy.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zxjvVLYvh4tb1lO6pTLonkNlz3NbHs-EsZ1uJUCIiB8/edit?usp=drivesdk

Gratitude to sister Amina for sharing this on her most recent blog, “Love, Harmony, & Beauty #102”

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We need a new religion around here

with words unstained by blood and institutions,

and ways to lift our heads and sing

without a male god listening. 

We need a scripture written by trees

and the sounds of water in the running brooks,

a faith revealed by the light of dawn

and prayers to say in the evening mist. 

Come, let’s drag enormous rocks 

and upend them in a circle, and learn there 

to move again in time to sacred rhythms.

–       Pir Elias Amidon

Maybe it’s just me, but this question posed by the inimitable Sufi poet, Rumi, truly resonates. And his poetic insights are spot on as we muddle through this “prison for drunkards.” As my teacher often quotes, “we’re all just bozos on this bus.” Enjoy.

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All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry. I never know what I’m going to say.
I don’t plan it.
When I’m outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
~Rumi

It’s okay to be broken. It’s okay to not be where you thought you’d be right now, where you want to be. Truth is, nobody else is either, or at least most of us aren’t. It’s okay to be flawed. It’s okay to have blemishes. It’s okay to be beautifully imperfect. It’s okay to be human. The weavers always wove a mistake into their rugs to remind themselves only Creator is perfect. We are here to be refined, but to need refinement means first you are rough. Unpolished stone. Corners and bumps and cracks. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to acknowledge the pain the world has put you through. It’s okay to sit in the weight of it all and be “incapacitated.” Because within that brokenness is the stillness we need to honor our emotions. After they are truly and deeply honored, then they can be released and we can MOVE on. Thus stillness is sometimes the fastest pathway to true movement. Brokenness the fastest pathway to reassemblage and becoming whole. Don’t let the glitter and gloss fool you. When the lights go out and the night is quiet, we all fight our demons. We all struggle up our mountains. The trick is to see the beauty in the struggle, the beauty of our journey, however imperfect it can and will be. Stepping to the side of the path to rest does not mean you are giving up, it just means you are resting before you begin again. They are not asking us to be perfect. They are just asking us to try.

~ Lyla June