Fynn Ocean

Who are you, little person?
I know you as intimately as it is possible to know a body, having birthed you from my own.
Yet you are complete mystery.
My wonder in you is like the wonder of the stars.
No thought could capture you, 
nor name define you.
Maybe it’s stars that you are; 
and my love, the universe.

Uncle Pete

Eternal love,
I am bought to my knees.
The sadness, a shocking reminder
Of the Beauty.

Here in the realisation
Of mortality,
Lies the seed
Of eternity.

This body,
A vessel-
The tangible link
Between existence
And emptiness.

My soul
A playground for the Beloved.
The ability to feel
And be.

I love you.

Thank you.

Words

I tried to speak to you today
Instead I hung my head in shame.
How presumptuous of me
To think that in your presence
I could say anything at all.

For how could words encompass
The unutterable.
How could my lips give shape
To the silent beating
Of my heart.

I am a temple
And you speak me.
I can only lay down my words
Rest this tongue
And listen.

Soften Or Die

The Is-ness, is so solid
a chunk of This-Is-What-It-Is.
and yet, in my plight, I argue, what if?
What if, I had done it differently?
What if, I had chosen this way?
What if, I am without doubt?
As if the fists of my refusal
can possibly dent
the edifice, the stoney truth
of What is Happening.
And yet, the Is-ness calls me back,
my sweet lover, my tender reminder
that hindsight is masochistic and
foresight a case of control-freaking.
In the laughing gentle face of reality.
my mistakes are beautiful reminders
that a flaw in perfection is the master
artist, reminding us all
of the truth that is so easy
to forget:
Every dropped stitch,
Every missed calculation,
Every errant brush stoke
is genius, pure genius.
Opening us
to the grander truth,
the Ultimate Yes: No mistake
is possible and every seeming
misdirection is truly pointing
the way.
There is nothing to apologize for.
All of your mistakes are beautiful
perfections, perfectly aligned
to show you One True Thing:
This is What it Is.
When you love that,
love the mistake, accept
the imperfection,
embrace the Is-nes
There is nothing Wrong
and nothing Right.
Rumi said it already.

I will meet you there.

Lorri Ann – theawakeneddreamer.com

Why People Don’t Wake Up (and how they can)

The Awakened Dreamer

A reader recently asked me, “What I really want to know is what lead to your awakening? What life were you leading that contributed to this event?” He wondered if there was a certain way to cultivate a fertile ground for enlightenment, a kind of prerequisite plan.

Well, for one, by the time I awoke from the dream that I was a separate self, the enchantment of being Lori-Ann had all but worn off. Like wall paper which had begun to fade and peel, the near fifty years of living under the spell of selfhood was lifting. As this trance loosened its grip there glimmered underneath the façade of “me”, something brilliant by comparison.  Then one day the wallpaper-thin self just fell away entirely, revealling a spacious vast nothingness full of life.

Even so, a spontaneous awakening is probably not really instantaneous, even if it looks to be sudden. In…

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