Cross Over the Bridge

One of the questions that you might share with me is this:

How can I get from where I am in consciousness, outlook, viewpoint, attitude etc.

to a better place, a place I want to be?

Today's reading is from the Chandogya Upanishad, one of the most loved and famous of them all.

It answers how we get from "here" to "there" in a wise and wonderful way, I think.

See what you think........

The Soul is the bridge by which people may pass from a state of worldly consciousness

to a state of heavenly consciousness.

Day and night cannot cross that bridge.

Old age, death, and grief cannot cross that bridge.

Nor can good AND evil deeds.

Those who are blind as they approach the bridge have their eyes opened as they cross it.

Those who are wounded as they approach the bridge have their wounds healed as they cross it.

Those who are sick as they approach the bridge are made well as they cross it.

Those who are sad as they approach the bridge become joyful as they cross it.

The bridge is the boundary between darkness and light,

between the darkness of the world, and the supreme Light of God, into which darkness cannot enter.

Those who are self controlled and pure can cross the bridge from the world into the City of God,

where they enjoy perfect freedom.

In the City of God the Soul is supreme.

The Soul desires only what is Real.

The Soul thinks only what is true.

This is my prayer of response:

God of Light and Bliss:

You Who are the Soul of all and the Soul of my soul,

Lead me across this Bridge from the worldly consciousness that confines me

and is dark, full of grief and fear, haunted by old age, sickness, evil, and death

into that realm of consciousness which is the cure of my blindness,

the healing of my wounds and illness,

and the experience of Joy which drives out all sadness.

I struggle to purify my mind and will by focusing on You, Soul of my Soul,

rather than the evils of the world my senses report.

When I do fix my mind and heart on You,

I find myself crossing the Bridge,

and thus entering that state of freedom and joy which is

Your Presence,

the City of God,

the Realm of Heaven.

alert

Dear friends...if any of you are still checking this blog I am putting it to sleep for a bit while I focus on my other blog, which i hope you will visit, entitled

Flowers from Gardens of Faith.

The blog address is www.spiritualbouqets.blogspot.com

(I know, it is not spelled correctly, but bear with me and just go there!)

thanks

marchiene

Christmas Elsewhere

Here it is, Christmas morning, and John and I are sitting in a motel room near the airport in Phoenix, awaiting the time when we check out here and check in there to go elsewhere, i.e. Grand Rapids Michigan, for a week of Christmas celebrations with family. We have never done this before, and we did it in part because we wanted to come home for Christmas and see loved ones, but we also wanted to avoid the rush and crowds and high airfares of the last time we did this. Flying on Christmas and New Year's days seemed a solution.

Sure enough, the ride into Phoenix from Sedona yesterday, Christmas Eve, was almost traffic free, and the motel is very quiet indeed. So quiet, the one restaurant is closed, and there is a skeleton crew on duty. In trips to the lobby for the coffee, bananas, and bars they are offering to guests, the only other people I have seen are airplane crews checking in after a flight from somewhere, before going off to another flight elsewhere.

Now I know we live in a very mobile, multicultural society. Lots and lots of people don't even celebrate Christmas, because that is not a part of their religion or culture. Others don't celebrate because they may think, like Scrooge, that it's all "humbug." Still others don't have family with whom they could or would even want to celebrate. And still others have to work on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, or choose to, for some extra money. Then there are the people who are sick, or in the military, or on duty in some other way.

Whatever the reasons, the point I want to make is that I am feeling out of place somehow, as if there was something a bit wrong or unfitting with being in a motel on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and after that, on an airplane. I wonder how many others are feeling that way, maybe even a little sad, because, whatever their reasons, they are not with loved ones on this special eve and day of the year, celebrating and gifting and maybe even giving some pondering time to the meaning of this holiday, aka holy day.

This Christmas morning I have decided I will somehow honor Christmas even here in the motel room. First, I am writing this Christmas blog, and after that I will write some Christmas cards I didn't get to yet, maybe in the lobby near the big Christmas tree there. And after that, maybe I will draw some little child-like sketches of the Christmas story, inspired by a wonderful You Tube wordless telling of the Christmas story with classical music in the background, sent to me by my brother Ron. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJfbqZ1qrQU&feature=player_embedded

However your are celebrating Christmas, if you are Elsewhere, like me, may your heart be filled with cheer anyway, because after all, Christmas is at heart a celebration of the heart, and can take place anywhere, when we welcome the Christ Child again to dwell in our hearts. And if you are at home with family and friends, may your celebrations be filled with the joy of knowing that absolutely nothing can ever separate you from the Presence and Joy of the Christ Child who was born in a manger but lives in human hearts everywhere and always.

Can you hear a leaf sing?

A couple days ago, I took a long wonderful hike with a friend in Sycamore Canyon, an especially beautiful place south of here, where the head waters of the Verde River can be found. I took the pictures posted with this blog there. On that same night, I received this wonderful poem by a favorite poet of mine, Mary Oliver, from a friend who shares my love of poetry. The pictures and the poem seem to me to be uncannily suited to each other. But then, maybe not. Maybe you who read this blog have had the experience described by Mary Oliver in her poem, and you may even have pictures somewhere that match it, as mine do. My wish for you is that you will go out there wherever you live and listen to the leaves sing, touch the face of rocks, or let your mind reflect the beauty of your life, like the river.

Here is the poem by Mary Oliver.

What can I say that I have not said before?
So I'll say it again.
The leaf has a song in it
Stone is the face of patience.
Inside the river there is an unfinishable story
and you are somewhere in it
and it will never end until it ends.

Take your busy heart to the art museum and the
chamber of commerce
but take it also to the forest.
The song you heard singing in the leaf when you
were a child
is singing still.

The Inspiration of Rachel's road trip

Our daughter Rachel just spent a week with us over the Thanksgiving holiday. Since she is a party waiting to happen, you can imagine it was a lively week! She brings much life, light, joy, and fun wherever she goes, and when she leaves after a visit, I always walk around with an ache in my heart for awhile, in an all-too-quiet house. Those of you who know me will hardly believe I could actually think anything was too quiet!

I took pictures as Rachel prepared to leave in her convertible with yes, the top down. It was 23 degrees above zero when I walked the dog this morning. Okay, it was around 41 by noon, when she was preparing to leave. And sunny. But still!!! She carefully prepared a place for her new dog, Oprah, in the back seat, amongst her fluffy soft comforter and pillow, with a bit of luggage around it. Howie, her faithful old dog, got to sit in the front seat next to her, with more luggage. Of course, the trunk was already stuffed. Finally, Rachel herself climbed into the driver's seat, and after a goodbye kiss, she was off. We heard the voice of Rick Springfield, one of her favorite singers, boom out as she rode away. John and I laughed and shook our heads and I said, "That girl knows how to travel."

Later today, I pondered the scene, and the pics I took, (posted with this blog) and I wrote this sort-of-poem about it:

As you travel the Road of Life

go with a sense of

direction,

Yet know there is more

than one route to your

destination.

Surround yourself with

story and song.

Let yourself be dogged with

unconditional love.

And for heaven's sake,

keep the top down,

your head open

to sun and wind,

connecting, feeling

Big Sky, Big Dreams, Big Ideas.

musing on music

I have travelled in many countries, and heard the music of many languages. An Indian guru I visited once advised me to listen to the music of a strange language before I tried to work on learning its words. The heart of every language was in the music it made when it was spoken, he said. I have always remembered that advice, and when I was enormously frustrated, as I usually was, when I could not communicate with people in their language (whether Arabic, Hausa, German, or Navajo, for instance) I at least could tune in on the particular rhythms and tones of their language as they spoke it.

But much more gratifying was the discovery in my travels of the experience of sharing music with people, for it is a universal language, and a language of the heart. Nowadays there is even a genre called "world music," and indeed, thanks to technology, the music of the whole world is available to us. On my little ipod alone I have the spiritual music, in the form of instrumentals and chant, of all the world's great religions. And right here in the small town of Sedona,

I have attended "Kirtan" which is the chanting of sanskrit mantras; Sufi dances to the chants from that tradition; Taize chants led by a small ensemble from the local Catholic church and Korean chants led by the teacher of class in Dahn yoga. Last night I attended a full moon drumming circle and joined in Native American style drumming and chanting with people of at least three different nationalities and backgrounds. What a rich experience! For me, the spiritual music of a people is one of the most powerful ways to enter into their prayer and faith in a way that opens my heart to the treasures they are sharing through their worshipful music.

I have the good fortune of coming from a musical family on my mother's side, and in that way music has been woven into my life in important ways. My mom and sister and I would sing songs in harmony while doing dishes together. Our whole family would sing in the car on our long road trips. I still have old recordings of my mother's brothers singing on the radio long ago. And I was blessed to be born with an ear for music, so I can play familiar songs by ear on the piano or accordian or flute or whatever. In our family, we often sang grace at the table, and I always put my children and grandchildren to bed with lullabies.

One of the first things I pack to take with me to Sedona is my collections of CD's, my flute, my drum, and certain songbooks to play out of on my keyboard here. Like my mother, I also hum often as I go about whatever I am doing, and I love singing with other people in all kinds of ways and places. Lately, as I read more about music, I am realizing why it is so vital and wonderful a part of human life, so universal, so ancient, and so new. And more than that, music is an integral part of the Great Mystery of life and creation itself. A brilliant scientist I heard in New York a few years ago, Prof. Kaku, likened the universe to "a symphony of vibrating strings." Someone else said one could translate the word universe itself as "One Song."

I love the thought that you and I are a song, or a note in the song, which God is always singing.

What is music to you?

Dwelling in Beulah Land

Sometime in my childhood, I heard an old gospel song called "Dwelling in Beulah Land."

I remember the chorus and first verse still, but have never been able to find the song in any hymnal I have ever come across. Well! I found it yesterday in a book called "Rise Up Singing" which is a collection of the words of all kinds of songs for group singing. I have it here and often play from it on my keyboard. I was delighted to come across this old favorite, and I want to write the words of the song for you, because they describe how I feel being out here in this gorgeous place. The song is also a metaphor, as so many gospel songs are, for a state of soul, or "consciousness" as we might say these days. I chose some choice pics from my collection which to me capture some of what the words of this Gospel song are saying.

DWELLLING IN BEULAH LAND

Far away the noise of strife upon my ear is falling,

Then I know the sins of man beset on every hand.

Doubt and fear and greed and lies in vain to me are calling,

None of these shall move me from Beulah Land.

Chorus:

I'm living on the mountain underneath a cloudless sky.

I'm drinking at the fountain that never shall run dry

O yes I'm feasting on the manna from a bountiful supply

For I am dwelling in Beulah land.

Verse

Let the story breezes blow, their blast cannot alarm me,

I am safely sheltered here, protected by God's hand.

Here the sun is always shining, here there's naught can harm me.

I am safe forever in Beulah land! (repeat chorus)

Verse

Viewing here the works of God, I sink in contemplation

Hearing now Her blessed voice, I see the way She planned.

Dwelling in the Spirit, here I learn of God's great Vision,

Gladly will I tarry in Beulah Land. (chorus)

okay. I did edit the words a tiny bit! But you get the picture!

Being out here for me does feel like Beulah land, literally.

And living in such a place of Beauty does help me dwell in "Beulah Land" consciousness.

Beauty is, for me, the Face of God, and here that Face shines in particular splendor.

However, even here, I am not always free from doubt or fear or other attitudes that make it hard to dwell in Beulah Land Consciousness. I can echo the words of this old hymn for hours, sometimes even days, but I am not yet always dwelling in Beulah Land, and I wonder if I ever will on this earth, given life's ups and downs and my state of spiritual evolvement.

But I am grateful for the glimpses, the moments, the hours of dwelling in Beulah Land, and I hope that all of you who read this blog also experience the bliss, at least at times, of dwelling in Beulah land, no matter where you live. And someday, I believe, we will all dwell always and forever in Beulah Land!