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Sweep like the winds of change through the landscape of your soul. Let that which has crumbled blow away to pile up in other corners, to fertilise the fields of your dreams.
Allow the sweet soaking rains of your heart to wash through the landscape of your soul. Let it flow into great rivers of inspiration and desire.
Let the lightning crackle over the cane fields of your soul. Let the vibrance sparkle through the skies of your most sweeping dreams and bring it all to life.
Let yourself rest peacefully in the arms of your life, watching the changes roll through, watching the life unfold and grow.
Wash your love over the landscape of your life and let those who need it drink deeply.
Let your life be the poem that you sing from the rooftops and as the notes fade away, fly onward for there are more heights to sing from than you can imagine.
what needs to be said today on earth?
live well and prosper.
be happy and be true.
deal with obstacles as they truly are – no more than experiences, illusion wrapped in the fox fur of reality.
neither be complacent nor harried but trust in life’s ebb and flow
keep faith with yourself – however it is it’s ok and you can deal with it
be pleasant with the world – your troubles do not need to be mirrored there, nor are they sourced there so keep your contact light and easy.
be firm and resolute with your troubles, neither run nor parry with them but stand still and see that they are yourself. then let them go.
enjoy your day’s life – fill your day with as much life joy as you have available.
anxiety threads through my belly like a writhing pile of snakes today
it’s hard to settle even to writing
so, what exactly is this flame of fear that is licking at my toes?
fear of conflict, fear of being part of a war and of having to choose sides or be derided by all
an old story
fear of losing myself in the group dynamic and of not having a strong enough voice
another old story
being looked down upon and judged
fear of being inadequate
an afternoon out of time
sitting by a window overlooking the bay I open my notebook and sit contentedly watching the people scurrying past.
it doesn’t seem to matter whether I write or not, but the notebook is as important to my comfort as the seat by the window.
an open notebook, a cup of coffee, a window: these are the elements of my utopia.
but today there is no comfort.
today the waves crash over the road and the skies are too heavy for me to bear.
things are out of place and there is no rest for any of us.
the door slams open and a bunch of people drip all over the floor and complain all over my utopia.
things are not as they are supposed to be sigh
waiting for the universe to turn is a thankless task and I do not take to it well
if I could just push the skies open a little would the retribution from the gods be too harsh? humans meddling again – perhaps they are so used to it now that they have care fatigue.
I close my eyes and breathe all my energy into the clouds.
is it lighter, just a bit? perhaps so and that is my allotment of climate change allowed this afternoon.
in any event, I still have my notebook, my coffee and my seat by the window
life isn’t too bad really.
rough draft for ws
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