Good morning, morning pages! What am I to write on you today, to fill your endless lines of blue on white paper printed page? Is it to be a poem, prose; purple or just black on white? Am I to be creative or mundane? What issues lurk in the deep? Oh subconscious what will you spill today?
I don’t know. I’m not even sure of the value of the pages today, but still I write them. As a therapist I know that resistance is a protection mechanism the ego throws up to cloud the issue and veil the truth, and therefore I do not resist, but simply write.
Open-minded and fully present I sit. Allowing. Succumbing. Surrendering. I surrender my life to Thee Oh Lord Adonai in the Heavens above: To you, Oh Most High, Supreme, Ultimate, Infinite. What would you have me do? Wear? Go? Read? Learn? Receive? Who would you have me talk to? About what? What would you have me think, feel?
You gave me free will.
You are Greater than anything – far Greater than I, yet You also dwell WITHIN me, for I am part of You.
I accept, that when you let me know what you would have me do, to my ego’s surprise, it comes not externally, with bolts of thunder and lightening, but quietly from within, with clarity, as my own stream of thought: Often, but not always, in my own voice. It’s a clear, unmuddled stream that springs from The Source of All, a drop of which resides energetically within the field of my being, my consciousness.
When I’m connected to it fully, I am whole, complete, joyous, present and expansive. When I listen to that still, small, clear stream of thought, and follow it, it leads me back to Source and connects me to it.
When I listen instead to resistance to confusion, to worry and fear and anxiety and hurt – then the clear pool is muddied and I can no longer see. I’ve cut myself off from the pure Source – for nothing can muddy the Source of the All.
Therefore, clarity in all things. Purity in all things. Follow the first clear flash of knowing and when things become muddied or muddled, take self off for a while. Walk, yoga, meditation, sex. Do the dishes, paint a shelf, dig the garden, read, weed. Give space and time for the mud to settle back down and leave a perfectly clear pool of fresh water.
I am clear. I am whole. I am the Universe, connected to All. Connected to the One Universal Soul. Umma. Imma, Abba. No thought. No time. A tingling feeling of joy and pleasure – not from ‘pussy’, Mama Gena, not from below up, but the other way around: From above down. Expanding inwards and outwards in the spaciousness of being. Not doing but resting.
A movement and a rest. The Gospel of Thomas: “If they ask you: What is the sign of your Father in you? Tell them; It is a movement and a rest”
Rest, rest, rest. It isn’t lazy! It’s not for you to feel guilty about! It’s the rhythm of creation. Fibonacci. 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13… Creation. A movement. Then a pause. The comma. A rest. Assimilation. Then another movement. Another rest. Assimilate. RECEIVE.
When all is complete and whole and in perfection; rest. Then start again with the next block. The next movement. Then rest.
Rest and let it unfold exponentially, spiralling up block by block, stage by stage. The foundations are built. The groundwork done. Now the temple goes up quickly. Exciting! Watch it grow! Watch your life grow as your Light grows as your stillness gives rise to the spring of clarity.
I am that I am