Coming home


I come home and I breathe in deep – an undeniable invitation to silence and peace lingers in the air. The seemingly noisy world gets put on pause – mental chaos that was so familiar and persistent a moment ago is suddenly odd and obscure and completely irrelevant. Though I left a lifetime ago, home is somehow always ready for my arrival – ready to breathe into me new life – ready to fill me with calm grounding strength that gets lost with a hectic life lived on unfamiliar roads.

Home is where you soul settles in perfectly, like putting on an old pair of jeans that fits as well as skin itself. Where the pressures of the world are drowned out by the satisfaction of running your bare feet through a familiar carpet. Where a home cooked meal, an afternoon laid out on a worn-out couch, and the words of an outdated magazine remind the forgetful spirit of the joy of simplicity and belonging. Continue reading

My greatest most impossible dream


Change is happening always. No matter what it is – it passes. Unquestioned strength gets overtaken. Broken hearts heal. A good flow is blindsided by a gut shot you never saw coming. Bad luck yields and creates space for growth. If you pay attention to the changes, you realize they are a trail of crumbs leading you towards the truth.

There is a point I am always striving towards; a self within that I am always trying to reach. And in this journey toward self-determination, I‘ve been forced to change a few million times. I’ve learned to stand taller, accept more, love more, breathe deeper, and hold on less. I’ve learned all these things, because at some point I did not know these things. Like an onion with a center of realization, you have to peel back the layers of illusion to discover the nirvana within. And there are so many layers to peel back. Continue reading

This passing gift


There come points in your life where the story of what you are and what is going on with you in the material world is as separate as ground and space. Where the weaving of the story of you is so much more intimate and real than the bed you are sitting on, the responsibilities that you carry, or even the thoughts that you think. Where the feeling of what you’re experiencing is more precious than any single possession you can ever have, and where you realize that where you find yourself physically in this dimension is as irrelevant as a computer to a horse.

What a precious thing it is to have this feeling. How did this little light within me get lit, and from which mystical place did it arise? Can I worship it for a thousand years? If its a million fold more precious than gold, how did it come to me? And I know it is not in my possession because it will escape me with just as little effort as which it came. Continue reading

Every time


After a day of running around seriously
Chasing phantoms of gold
And battling invisible demons
I go home and read my Sufi poems
And with wine warming my flesh
Listen to music that gently moves the soul

I spend the quiet midnight lost in wonder
With my heart cracking open inch by inch
I remember its transformative soft power
And ability to bring me back home to God
Every time life takes me away from Him

photo credit: torbakhopper HE DEAD via photopin cc

Being human

native americanI want to howl at the moon and run with the wind, roar at a lion and make fierce love under starlight, drown in fall leaves and lose myself forever in the scent of a flower, laugh maniacally with my insanity and sob uncontrollably in my grief for years. The civilized man has lost too much. He no longer cries without reason or spits at the Gods unapologetically. He only does exactly what he is supposed to, when he is supposed to do it. He is embarrassed of his humanness, wishing rather to be a machine, much more neat and defined. He no longer expresses his truth absolutely without shame or laughs brazenly at the idea that anything within him can be wrong. He does not see the value in gut-level expression, but rather prefers regurgitated socially approved propaganda. He no longer looks to himself for his answers, nor has he the courage to admit to himself what are his true questions and passions. He lives a shallow life lacking brutally honest reflection, and instead he strives to live within the parameters others have set to meet the checkpoints that they have imposed. He embarrassingly defines himself with meaningless credentials and labels, while denying everything that is magnificent, transcendent and essential within himself. Continue reading