Motivated By Spirit

“I am Aama.” “I am Evelyn.” She had not meant to imitate his speech pattern, but the structure was so direct that anything else would have seemed trite. Rocking, Evelyn smiled again and sighed, a sigh of contentment. It was then that he took the book from his knapsack. He had held the book in his hands as one would hold a mug of war m liquid on a cold night; lacing his fingers around it’s spine. He handed the book without words. The cover was smooth and there was nothing written on it. That had surprised her. She had not opened the book at first but ran her fingers over the smoothness of its cover. It had a pleasing texture, so she had continued to rub her fingers lightly over it, savoring the texture. Her nostrils had detected the pleasing scent of ancient leather. Her eyes had taken in the early spring day without seeing all of its colors. The greens and yellows and the occasional splash of pink of the rambling rose and other early spring blooms she had failed to pr...

She remembered briefly how her parents and friends had urged her not to move to the country. What would she do there; how would she support herself when her life’s saving ran out? She had listened to them then and was grateful she followed her own inclinations and her grandmother’s wished and moved into the house. Her mind skipped over her settling in and the excitement she felt as she planted her first crop of vegetable. She knew nothing of growing anything other than house plants when she started, but she soon learnt. It was seventeen months to the day that he came. He walked right up to her stoop and said good, made it a good day and from then on a good life. “Peace to you and your swelling and a good day to you,” had been his odd greeting. The “how do you do” she replied seemed lame. He was not from these parts. She knew all the people in the village from her summers spent there during her childhood. She did not know him though. After a few minutes of conversation her ...

She reached out and patted the baby back to sleep. She had absently felt the child stir and with most of mind on the book she was reading, preformed the simple task of hushing the infant into a deeper sleep that the child had experienced before stirring. The lullaby she hummed may have appeared tuneless to any but her child. The child responded to the harmony created by her mother’s murmurings and slept. Evelyn smiled; how wonderful and fitting everything was. The child, the house, the father of the child, her being there; it seemed amazing but right. Perfect would indeed be a better word. She closed the book around her index finger, leaned way back and started a tiny motion in the rocking chair. The smile playing itself out on her lips widened. She remembered as if it were yesterday her grandm a sitting in this same rocking chair combing her hair and telling her; “girl when I’m gone you don’t sell this house, but live here. You hear me?” “Yes man,” she had said; but wa...

Now, the purpose of this entry was to look at what I am seeking. The thought came to me first thing th at morning is that I really was not, and perhaps have never, sought the kingdom for its own sake. Rather, my seeking through these years has been for the fruits of the kingdom. Be that fruit peace, money, companionship, a better life, it was always about the tangible results of such seeking. I have masked the truth of this by saying that the proof of my efforts must be made manifest for me to know that the path I have chosen was the right one.  Yet the master did say " seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and all these things shall be added unto you." That was not exactly what I was doing. I was seeking all these added things. That is true. Now I do know that some of my thinking, meditating and focus on the wisdom of the teachings, have borne fruits in an added amount of peace and joy throughout this process.  But I have not been single minded seeking the kingdom. ...

There are always many streams leading to the river we know as our lives. Some of these streams go unnoticed for parts of our lives; some are so evident that we simply accept them as how things are. Others are so subtle we never know they are there. They all go to inform how we live and how we perceive the world. We seem to live in turbulent times. Turbulence is one of the hallmarks of the end of every era. Energies that appear divergent need to come into balance for the new era to begin. There is much balancing to be done to close out the current era. We are perfectly capable of doing all of that work. We have capacities which we have not yet explored. Once explored, these capacities will give us the knowledge and the strength to accomplish that which only we can accomplish. As I sit in my skin, I know every reader is answering the call to transform our world. If you, dear reader, was not among the honored transformers you would not be reading these words. As a specie w...