An every day wish for you

Dreams, plans, desires. Beginnings, launches, labors. Missteps and forgivenesses. Nagging incompletes. Recalculations. Motivations. Completions. Celebrations! Do-overs and start-agains. Learnings; to apply or not to apply them?

Always in the act of one choice: Do I choose to live by design or default?

Patience, patience, patience with the process of making progress. Refining and redefining what progress is. Acknowledging not only accomplishments, but also the countless efforts.

Every day.

Skimming truths from commercials and cliches: Because you're worth it. Because life is not a destination, it's a journey. Because you are a daughter or son in whom Spirit is well pleased, a human well loved by your ancestors of blood and spiritual lineage.

Wherever you're at, wherever you want to be, know that you are known, heard and loved.

In each moment - now, and now, and now - only love is wished for and desired from you. Receive and give of the feast simply by being your true self~

Luminations:

You are a gift to those who love you~
Luminations:

♪ Jimmy Eat World The Middle [official video] ♪

Love and sometimes NEED this song. Enjoy...

Sacred Space in the Digital Age

I've had the pleasure of meeting @AnthonyLawlor via twitter. He is what I would call a Spirit-fueled architect/author/artist - or perhaps more simply, "A Bright Light." Anthony is an example of the very concrete ways love may be made manifest, and of how the concrete can be arranged to inspire and nourish love.

On October 20th he is offereing a webinar, "Sacred Space in the Digital Age." I will be there, and hope you will, too. To register visit: http://www.tiferetjournal.com/events/sacred-space-in-the-digital

Oh, in the meantime, you might want to check out his blog, Dwelling Here Now - http://www.dwellingherenow.blogspot.com/ My ideal day ends with a quick read of one of Anthony's inspirational posts.

Many blessings~~~

Remember to See, Hear & Love Our Veterans

when the soldiers come home

when the soldiers come home
- not to the U.S.
or the military hospital
or the rehab center -
but when they really come home
to parents, wives, friends, children
all starved for love from them,
all robbed of their loved one the way they once knew him,

when they come home to mirrors
that no longer reflect the faces they knew,
to the stairs they can't climb because their
limbs are lifeless or lost,

when they come home to find
there are thoughts they no longer think
and feelings they no longer feel,
-and to new, unwelcome ones that prey on them
in the middle of the night –

when they come home after fulfilling
their duty, having kept their commitments
and having done what was honorable and right,

remember to remember them,
pray for and embrace them.

our leader, who wore war fatigues
only to play, knew not what he did
when he invaded a country that was
not responsible
-not responsible-
for the tragedy of a sunny September day.


08/10/2005

Posted on 08/10/2005
Copyright © 2010 Tracey Paradiso

all and nothing ~ poetry

I chase fragments of myself in circles, forget that
Spirit is steady, ever present, waiting for
me to be still, silent. Listen
first to drums then words
of mystics who settle my hollow bones until
I am
the divine fully unfurling, bursting,
entwined with Mother Earth.
Heart becomes earth becomes soul-beat:
- one one – one one – one one -

Inseidr, outseidr, upseidr down.
Everything on me, in me opens.
I'm a chalice full of wonder and knowing
overflowing
swirling in the space between my cells.
Passionate embrace,
senses kissed into drunken joy.
I feel the universe in one musical note,
see the silence between the noise,
taste the faces of the mystics, who nourish me
as I hungrily swallow their whispers:
“…move toward that which you love; it's so much bigger
than the illusions you hold tight…free yourself from the surface
of yourself…join your masculine and feminine sides…
make love and art…bloom…”
I'm overcome by the dewy scents of love and ecstasy and oh,
I'm only at the shimmering fringe of the
Great Mystery…
Then I hear the sound of sweet, ripe mango meat pushing at its skin,
readying itself for the plunge from branch to moist, feral earth.
It's the call back, and like the ripe fruit
I spend a brief moment poised between worlds -
Still. Whole. Known. Magnificent.


07/21/2005

Author's Note: The word 'seidr' is pronounced "side" It's an ancient Nordic shamanic ritual.


Copyright © 2010 Tracey Paradiso

Luminations: A Call to Calm

Enjoy the soothing words of this Dear Soul, who will lead you to discovering your soul, and your connection to Spirit, anew. Visit her blog daily and you will truly feel Known, Heard and Loved.

Luminations: A Call to Calm