not all spiritual beings fly. some are grounded, really rooted with their feet heavy like rocks and hands colored with earth, because they need to see the planet and its inhabitants from close-up, not from the sky. with open eyes, beaming like rays of sunlight through glass, coloring inner vision, lines, shades of red and yellow. the poetry of forms in matter, in the imperfections. with heart radiating the rhythm and pulsations of blood… they need to be so close that the exhalations of divine breath create fog on the window that looks out to the field where animals live according to their instincts, fog on the camera lens, on the contact lenses, on the skin in contact. bodhisattva, welcome to our world. the wind of your breath – slow as the ocean – brings messages, sighing together with the waves of human events, small and pretty like stones, rounded and carried by the river to the ocean with the water always in movement, nuances of eternal blue.
for Piovra Caffè, written in the Esalen Art Barn, September 2013
gli esseri spirituali non volano tutti. alcuni sono atterrati, ben fondati, con i piedi come rocce e le mani colorati di terra… Continue reading →
blue light color of the goddess, dissolving all resistance, indicating the way out, toward victory.
the blue of the sky saturated with imaginative stories, a cultivated frequency nourishing the flight of the birds, flying in spirals and chasing the sun in a synchronized flock. moving together is an instinct faster than thought.
the color of the sphere that illuminates the path, along it, you find the answer, not the one written in words so simple to decode, but those sung by the imprints in the sand, in the memories that align in a synchronized dance. the nocturnal light growing from the deep of night toward the dawn in imperceptible increments, the moon, the stars from asleep to awakening.
Once I was at Somachandra, passing through between Terrazzatura devotional work and food shopping at Tentaty, or an appointment to verify my Tecnarcato program and a work meeting, or my cooking and cleaning turn at the nucleo and Meditation practices … anyhow, I was in movement and in a bit of a rush, with the day’s schedule scrolling in front of my eyes while I exited through the glass door and passed in front of the tables. Gabbiano was sitting there, back after a long absence. I stopped to salute him.
He looked at me with the most brilliant eyes and a smile that emanated peace and happiness. Time stopped for a moment, and all the hurry that was fogging over my mind disappeared. From his eyes, I felt the heat from the light of absolute presence. Gabbiamo was delighting in being alive, as I should have been if i weren’t so behind on emails. Here again, just a few minutes together, so dense that they transmitted the world to me. A way of being, living every moment with joy, celebration … while we are here, while we are together, here and now.
Una volta ero al Somachandra di passaggio tra la Terrazzatura e le spese a Tentaty, o la verifica Tecnarcale ed un incontro di lavoro, o il turni di nucleo e le pratiche di Meditazione … Continue reading →