The Council Fire burns…
the seasons turn.
The Elders speak,
so we may learn.
Enter the lodge on bended knee,
then contemplate the sacredness in these:
The whispering’s of the trees.
The grass that grows.
The waters that flow,
and the stones that know.
The crackling of fire,
and a true heart’s desire.
Sacred is a heart that sees.
For scrolls of wisdom,
are found in these.
From the Heart
– RM Weldon 2007
(Photo courtesy of Pexel.com – CC0)
Writing a memoir requires the absolute Truth from yourself as you recall events from your mindset. I have learned that just writing the story can be both a psychological and emotional challenge for anyone who has experienced abuse over a long period of time.
Honesty is an absolute must when writing a memoir. “Writing it raw” is required.
The process will dredge up old wounds. Unresolved issues will be reflected back to you. Shedding a light on what is hidden underneath that issue – gets you to the root of it all.
It is here that one finds what is truly important to your Soul.
Be honest with yourself….about yourself. It’s an enlightening experience
Breathe from within…
of the Sacred Flame.
Now Feel its colors…
each tone and hue,
to discover the true Essence
Share the Light that comes from above…
Give of the leaven and power of Love.
To thine own self…be True.
Drink from the wellspring..
of Spiritual wine…
for thou are a
Chalice of Life Divine.
Fill your cup to overflow,
Learning to Love,
and when to let it go.
put forth a healing hand
and share your true Light
across this land.
I am a Living Tree of Life planted in this Garden of Eden, and like a great many trees that used to be in this world, I have been splintered, cut down, marred, scarred and beaten to a pulp for the unwise choices some human beings illicit on others of my kind.
The rings on my tree are cracked with scars and yet I have survived to lay down a pattern of rings to mark my passage of time in this world. I have stood alone in my silence, witnessing the world around me. Contemplating the mindless reactive abuses that others illicit on the innocent.
In the beginning, my Life’s journey was built upon stony ground, yet I managed to grow, blossom and eventually flower by driving my roots deep, and building a resilience to the onslaught of wrath imposed upon me without reason. I wasn’t alone on most occasions, but I stood up with a sense of righteous indignation and held myself with a much deeper sense of dignity that came from an eternal well.
The rings on my tree are nearing the end of its life’s span, and like many trees we have a story to share. I believe it was Wayne Dyer who once said, “Don’t let your story die inside you before you leave this world.” His words seemed to be a provident statement of what I have known must be done for some time now; and to him I am eternally grateful to have heard the call come back around loud and clear.
In sharing my story, I hope that it will touch at least one soul; and in touching that one soul I can only pray that the seed planted in their heart will assist them to seek a higher calling on behalf of humanity. I have seen the effects of physical, emotional, mental, verbal and sexual abuse of my own life path; and like a single drop falling into a pond, the ripples it generated has also touched the neighboring shores and reverberated through the land and touched the shores of many other landscapes and oceans around the world.
In my 60 years of being a silent witness, I have watched the abuse of human beings expand from one individual to another and have seen its’ vine-like propagation slip into the offices and board rooms of businesses and corporations….and sadly, in recent years I have seen its insidious face peering through the eyes of many nations. Today, it seems to have grown toward a global genocide of all that is good and beautiful, destroying all living things in this heavenly Garden of Eden we call Life.
Dreams inspire us. They come to us from an intelligence beyond the depths of our subconsciousness, drawing from the matrix of the divine consciousness, that whispers of wonders that ignites the core of our soul.
Dreams rise up within like an enduring flame of inspiration, that increases our desire, our drive and motivation, despite our shortcomings, misgivings and doubt. The intrique drives us to reach high, think big and garner a legion of like minded souls that are magnitized toward it, like a moth to a flame under the cloak of darkness, hoping beyond hope that we don’t get burned in the process.
Dreams are superfluous and everchanging as they come forward like a teasing summer breeze arising from the heat and then retreats like the whisper if we ignore its’ calling. Sometimes, if we are lucky, a dream comes back around for consideration until we acknowledge and expand its’ potential.
It is in seeing the potential of “what can be” that reignites the spark that propels us to make a difference, to make a change, or to become the change we want to see in our world. To create the dream, to make that change, or to become that change, we choose to dance with creation and lay out the blueprint of a foundation, until we garner the courage to gather the resources and give it a form.
My question to you is simply this. If you could create Heaven here on Earth – what would it look like?