May 31, 2008

Thank you for “Gifts of the Soul”. It’s an excellent book of healing, and I especially like the exercises. They make it practical and useful for us, regardless of our circumstances. They challenge us to not despair, but to dive deeply into our hearts to find the wisdom that can heal and liberate us.

Thank you, too for your kind words. Sometimes when this prison experience seems like it will never end and the light at the end of the tunnel begins to flicker, along comes a message from you reminding me of who I am and not to give up. Your words and your loving support have made a huge difference in my life, and I just want you to know how much it means to me. You and the work you’re doing are truly Spirit made visible.

It’s magical to see Spirit because many times when we only see the masks and the holograms that the culture presents as real. We’re not our bank accounts or our ambition. We’re not our collection of personality disorders. We are Spirit, we are love, and even though it’s hard to believe sometimes (especially here is prison), we are free. If we find out next week that we’re terminally ill – and we’re all terminally ill on this bus – what will matter are memories of beauty, that people loved us, and that we loved them.

When I tend to forget this, when I have the “itch” to be refueled and renewed, I return to the doorways of the heart that have opened me before. For me, the “itch” gets “scratched” by beginning the day with softness and silence before the bumps and nicks and noise rush in, before the confusions and conflicts tighten my sense of things.

The quiet times can cast a spell on our hearts. They remind us who we are capable of being. They provide points of connection with what is authentically true. They illuminate the meaning with which we imbue an experience, raising it to the realm of divine understanding.

In the ritual of quieting my mind and going within, I remember that I am a creature of fertile soil and endless sky, and that the acts of praise and thanks and music and tears transform me. It helps me to see the while I keep looking for the wings of a sparrow, the wings of an eagle have already been given me. It reminds me that we’re all like birds who have forgotten we have these wings and we were meant to spread them and fly, fly, fly!