Imagine in this moment you’re a tall gumtree in Australia’s Outback, You’ve endured loosing leaves in droughts where red dust chokes, Protected an abundance of others through many a blistering summer, Blossomed beyond what ones imagination could ever possibly evoke.
The world around you is serene though dry ~ grasses have all hayed off, There’s nothing but the most established flora and luckiest of fauna to be found, The dust is coating everything again ~ breezes cannot even blow it completely away, The air is thick with not just dust but ’tis humid to the point theres near not a sound…
For the sky o’er head is not blue but the darkest of greys, Bringing an element of hope that the dust shall adjourn to memories forays, As the clouds burst forth needed rains to quench all for days, A welcome reprieve for all whom have the ability to survive through natures displays.
Eventually the irritating dust settles under a cooling watery mist, That gradually increases to rinse the dust from heavy almost crispy leaves, Pacing itself ‘till it reaches the deepest points of even the thickest debris, Washing away blockages so deeply hidden they’re unknown ~ making space anew for fresh air’s heaves…
Raindrop by raindrop this moment continues with a gentle cooling breeze, Gently rinsing ‘till refreshed even the most stagnant areas of ones soul, Revitalising all it seeps into whilst cleansing all whom are upon this area of earth, So one may enter a cycle of thriving once again within ones beings role.
Envision a moment ~ a leaf… seemingly dangling with the same purpose as every other… Yet no two are ever exactly identical ~ no two in exactly the same spot, Each has a differing view ~ thus despite similarities all have vastly different lives…
Now picture yourself as this leaf you’ve chosen upon in your mind, ’Tis it one warming in the full sun or perhaps the shade’s what you’ve timed… Be it on a lower/mid/higher branch ~ the type of plant really doesn’t much matter, For now look out from your spot through all the other leaves you can see… Notice how different though similar all the leaves around you happen to be.
For to those looking from afar they may all seem to appear exactly the same, Yet with a closer view one may notice an abundance of variants less tame… As whilst some bring a cooling element others provide a place for eggs to call home, They can protect a bud yet to bloom too soon or carry insects on the wind to roam…
Thus much like us each leaf though so similar ’tis quintessentially unique, Each creating its own seraphic element to a facet for our universe to be complete, Cycling through and constantly adjusting/evolving ‘till the moment ’tis bittersweet, Then taking another element onwards for nothing can last too long within its respective feat.
Try as we might no two beings can ever share the same view of perception, Even identical twins with their amazing abilities still have varied perspectives, Though we empathise and attempt at times to align with the view of another, Our brain still separates ours from that of the chosen other..
Despite attempts to understand ~ attempts to empathise, We truely struggle not to clash when polar perceptions arise, Even when 'tis the perception of someone to which we’re very close, There’s still little we can do to fully align perspectives beyond our human dose.
At times as these ’tis when well practised etiquette MUST lead our way, For when it can’t or doesn’t ’tis when to arguments we are lead astray, Thus mastery of oneself can perhaps be our best solution to this quest, And being mindful towards those whom in the moment aren’t probably is best.
But how can we possibly achieve this mastery and mindfulness towards others? When our lives feel already overwhelming ~ making us want to run to our mothers… Can we really get our minds to permanently master etiquette? Well… No. As ’tis an ongoing practice needing us to master each moment as we go.
Yet as we learn new tactics and apply them to our lives, Our ability to master ourselves in each moment grows and thrives, Becoming easier to conquer this never ending quest for ourselves, Though still as humans we all have moments we leave our mastery on our shelves.
’Tis in these dreadful moments we need mindfulness from those we are around, A silent empathetic understanding rippled out needing not a sound, Though more often we’re met and mirrored with just the opposite, Which leaves us wounded in ways that can have affects rippling undesirable from it.
These wounds if left in need of healing for way too long, Can impact our lives and future generations after we’re gone, Thus ’tis imperative we strive to heal and make repairs, Irrespective of the moments we endure ‘are you mad?’ glares.
Yet heal and conquer our mastery of ourselves we MUST, Despite the rolling eyes we may perceive around us, We need at times to align ourselves with the warrior we’ve within, Before our lives for the current day should even really begin!
Whilst some where tiaras and gems in their hair, For others ’tis lucky socks or a bracelet they wear, As a lot of us have talismans of some kind to empower us more, Tokens we wear or carry to support our confidence to soar, Yet why do need them? Why not stand on our own? Could it truely be we think we cannot do things alone?
Or do we need things to anchor energetics we cannot yet fathom, To support our endeavours so that they can happen? For we’ve heard people say that girls can use makeup to hide, Though perhaps ’tis a trigger for what’s deep down inside, A way to empower their confidence ~ help it to rise, Support them through the days/nights/lows and highs.
Soldiers, great warriors of the past, were often recorded, To be in possession of things to remind of homes where applauded, Reminding them of why they left to fight at the start, Whom ’tis they adore and keep close within their heart, We’ve tales of hero’s whom drove beyond their natural limits, Believing what they possessed could empower them beyond summits!
And yet to another our empowering trinkets are often useless, There’s those that enjoy pointing that out without rest, Though often one may find even they have or do something, Perhaps a sacredly timed deep breath, hairstyle or to themselves they sing, We all have a something or someway that’s just for us, To empower our confidence to rise from deep within without fuss.
When we find ourselves facing layers of illusion, In whatever mysterious form they may appear to be, Often we want to just view it from a perspective of ignorance, Wanting to ignore it and accept what it wants us to believe or flee…
Yet if one opts to though uncomfortable to face one can peer through the smog, Dissolve the illusion through a simple mini mindful moments monologue… Thus sit back and relax ~ let the day’s weight lighten for this moment, And take a long slow deep breath in… then out ~ as ’tis a necessary component…
Now just picture yourself in a blue grey bush style clearing, Red sand’s ‘neath velvet green moss under foot ~ bird song’s all one’s hearing, You cannot see beyond as it appears to be a rather warm yet foggy morn, You think ’tis mid morning though you cannot see the sun you believe it is way after dawn…
Here’s where we now cue the fun of this and tear through the illusion, See the fog symbolically as the element that is causing you the confusion… Now smell the air… and realise it’s far from fog ~ perhaps smoke, thick sleet or rain, Let it seep into all of your senses and evolve your perspective to whichever you align without pain… Then step forwards and allow it to vigorously rain ~ washing away all you once thought to be fog… Thoroughly cleansing you and all that lies in your bushland surrounds, Before the sunshine breaks through… revealing what lay hidden beneath, That the foggy illusion had covered which can now be known to you in abounds…
Yet one need always remember it takes more than just one moment, To fully enlighten one to any well buried in illusion hidden component, Each time does however reveal it further to your conscious perception, Thus further extinguishing and in turn dissolving illusions deception.
Patience ~ ’tis something we start to learn from a rather young age, Yet a lot of us as adults still struggle to not enrage, When elements don’t do their part in the way we’d expect, We jerk out of balance allowing polarity to take hold lest it all be wrecked…
Thus learning to evolve our level of patience ’tis often a key, In the immense multi lock ‘door’ of creating successfully, For being able to continue creating whilst we wait for results, Is often not something we’re blessed with like we seem to be faults.
And so as one ventures through the process of their creation, Enjoying their flow through seemingly seraphic elation, Until one hits the wall where their patience and tolerance ends, Then ’tis to a new level of ingenuity the universe swiftly sends…
For the limit of our patience is just an element of necessary polarity, Though having a high level to tolerate to our hopefully expanding limit is also necessary, We need to reach our limits to learn how to grow and evolve them further, In turn making our daily flow more balanced and a lot sturdier…
Now whilst evolving ones patience ’tis a unique path and what one needs varies where you’re at, I’ve a rather quintessential reiki portal which may be of assistance with that, For ’tis loaded with a growing array of on demand moments and meditations, And obviously distance reiki sessions are also once again amongst the growing options!
Imagine for a moment waves crashing upon a rocky beach, The salty air filling your lungs whilst pebbles massage your feet… Seagulls squark and kookaburras laugh from the trees nearby, ’Tis a seraphic scene to envision ~ meditative and sweet…
You find yourself a spot to sit and watch the waves a while, The cool of the smooth rocks can be felt through your clothes, Waves cannot reach this spot ~ only mist from their crashing, Which stings ever slightly where on any sunburn it does.
Thus you sit awhile watching the waves in their ever monotonous sway, The sparkle of oceanic spray sparkles as the sun joins in a near blinding foray, Easing your mind of the stresses that engulf upon your mind this day, Creating a moment of meditative reprieve for you to escape with no delay…
And yet despite this quintessentially seraphic scene grasping your mind in its hold, You cannot help but notice your thoughts wandering from it’s lull, To all the things you’ve still to do within this ever shortening day, Thus you need make the conscious decision whether you’re to now go or stay…
Though remembering you can return to this moment with ease, By simply closing your eyes and letting your mind adjourn, To your place upon the rocks where the ocean meets the land, Or perhaps next time you’ll instead find your feet upon the sand…
Picture a moment a huge wattle covered in bumblebee style blossoms, But it’s late in the season and the slightest bump or breeze makes them fall… The wind starts picking up creating a delightful blossom fuzz ‘snow’, Mesmerised you watch them float towards the ground as the wind plays, For this delicate dance ’tis one of natures more quintessential forays…
Ever gently one fluffy yellow segment floats onto your hand, ’Tis like holding the tiniest of delicate feathers you’ve ever seen, Created by the same force of nature that is known for destruction, Thus pondering this polarity you watch the breeze pick it up once again, And allow it to whisk away the debris you’re holding without strain.
This gentle wisp of breeze now continues its seraphic mission, Blowing segment by segment each blossom from the tree, And energetic element by element from your auras debris, Easing your mind of the grasp of the days stresses demolition, Allowing space for you to heal your soul - grounded with volition…
As the unseen weight of energetic debris lifts from your being, You note the new vibrance of the wattle seemingly restored, Though it may be just your perspective as you notice leaves before now ignored, Contemplating what of you can now be seen that’s imploring for healing, You venture from this moment with a much lighter feeling.
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~ A note for those wondering; no the picture is not wattle… ’tis mulga… one of the wattles outback ‘cousins’. 🙂
Imagine for this moment… You’re walking through a grove of trees, Whom are gently swaying in the breeze, Whilst a bird is sweetly chirping the song of its choice, All seems near too seraphic as you ponder whatever you please…
The sky though not clear isn’t concerning, Yet the trees seem to smell stronger than one expected, You walk on for this moment ’tis what you seem to be yearning, As you enjoy this time for your mind to find your soul reflected…
Thus as you’re engulfed in your thoughts and the scene of your walk, You’ve no way to notice the erratic raindrops upon the path, Or the birds falling silent as the trees seem a message to talk, That all should seek shelter or become prey to natures wrath…
As the sky begins to open up with a delightful sprinkling of rain, Each droplet so gently lands upon its mark as if designated, You stand still - letting each raindrop quench your soul of any pain, ‘Fore it starts washing away debris that blocks that which is fated…
Imagine in this moment; you’re standing in the outback, With it’s iconic red sandy dirt beneath your feet, ‘Tis a warm dry afternoon in the springtime, And thus the scent of flowers is upon a light breeze, tangy ‘n’ sweet…
As you listen to the breeze dance amongst the gum leaves, Its ocean like melody lulls you into its sway, Into a more seraphic style of perspective, Allowing the breeze to for now blow all your troubles away….
Thus you’ve new space to taste the tangy scents upon the breeze, Which vary depending on the surrounding flora, Filling ones lungs slowly with abundant replenishment, Creating space to adjust for what lies soon in store!
As the wind dies down and the leaves calm, One listens to the birdsong tune that surrounds, ‘Tis so seraphic a picturesque scene one experiences here, With blue grey trees sheltering wildlife, Tall dried grasses, colourful birds, And the red dirt that abounds…
And then from seemingly nowhere the sand moves over ‘n’ around your feet, Moving whisplike a bit for a moment enchanting your attention, ‘Fore it starts swirling around at your ankles, Triggering an experience that takes a bit of comprehension…
Slowly this spiral increases in it’s velocity, ‘Tis not uncomfortable but the sandy element gritty, Growing its speed and height to one’s knees, Picking up, blowing away, and adjusting all that it please…
Soon one discovers they’re hip deep in a whirlpool, Consisting mostly of dust that sparkles in sunlight and wind just a touch cool, As your legs take on a new sensation before now unknown, ‘Fore further into this whirlwind one ‘tis ‘bout to be thrown.
Wind now begins to whip veraciously around your abdomen, Inching in height with each slow breath you take, The sensations across ones back remind one of that, Which an experienced masseuse may create…
Reaching chest height it soon creates an interesting illusion, Of treading water on a secluded private beach, Sensations of being sucked down within the whirlwind, Are not so overly far from ones imaginations reach…
Though reality ’tis completely the opposite, One is standing securely upon ones feet, The earth below supporting ones every move, In a way no being has the ability to ever beat.
Yet the whirlwind continues above ones shoulder height, Around one’s throat ~ creating an interesting insight, Sensations at every point neglected are now trying to fight, To gain your attention for going unnoticed to fester be their plight…
One’s line of sight fast becomes a blur of orange/red sparkle, Enlightening one to contemplate this moment’s debacle, Weightlessness brings it’s own variation of calming element particle, Whilst the whirlwind invigorates your every hairs follicle…
The whirlwind now swirls around one’s entire being, To thick to see through to anything on the other side, Bringing thoughts of unknown consequences to one’s mind, ‘Fore one truly has no idea the outcome to result from this ride…
Until the wind drops as through it never began, All around one’s position seems as it was before, Was the whirlwind just an illusion of some creators divine plan? Or something greater one need further explore?
The Poetic Life 2.0 