In the centerless center of ourselves, in the core of who we are, in that place where the Great Spirit knit us together with clunky knitting needles and a ball of multi-colored yarn, we’re shining, shining, shining with such light that the bright sunlight dulls in comparison to our splendid luster.

We’re dazzling, we’re dazzling!  We’re so bright the peacocks shield their eyes.  We’re so amazing the giraffes crane their necks.  We’re so filled with incredible lightless light that the hummingbirds hover above our third eyes and sip the nectar of our illumination.

To feel this, to see this, to drink this is our legacy, our birthright, our secret cove.  It’s hidden in plain sight.  We’ve hidden ourselves from ourselves, our grandest joke, our hip-slapping joke, our guffaw-spreading laughter echoing from the canyons of our forgotten path tangled with the weeds of our mental shenanigans.

We’re playing hide ‘n seek for only a lifetime, hiding in these bodies, masked by these personalities, shielded by these emotions, fortressed by these thoughts.  We’re so engaged in that which perceives that we forget the perceiver, completely forget it, as if it never ignited at the core, as if God never kneeled to blow the flame on the kindling at our heart.

But, hark, now!  The world is dropping away around those who hear the distant drums.  We’ve dropped away enough of the mask to stand unabashed and naked before the tortoises who peer appraisingly through the spectacle of their own shell. 

We’re filled with holes, dozens of holes, hundreds of holes, thousands of holes, and the light shines through now.  We’re swiss cheese and grey mice nibble the edges of our defenses.  We’ve learned to deeply feel emotions so painful we fall to the floor of our thatched hut and embrace the knife of those suppressed wounds until they sweetly, mysteriously, disappear.  We’ve learned to see the futility of so many thoughts, the spinning dreams of them, and their emptiness.  We stand beside the director of the inner theatre now, watching the actors mouth lines.  We take off our masks more often, sipping tea, feeling grass growing between our toes.  We cease labeling it “grass” or “toes”.

And what rises through the holes in the fabric?  Joy, joy, joy!  Unsuspecting joy swathed in light, created of light, surrounded by light, the entire perceived world energized and glowing in the light which contains every shade of darkness and wouldn’t dream of calling itself “light”!

This moment makes sense now as the only basket where seeds of joy sprouts.  “Presence” is our endless present, our endless gift, that which returns us to the centerless center, the knitter of destiny, the hummingbird, and our connection to what we’re doing in this jeweled now.


10 thoughts on “Joy

  1. “We’re dazzling, we’re dazzling! We’re so bright the peacocks shield their eyes. We’re so amazing the giraffes crane their necks. We’re so filled with incredible lightless light that the hummingbirds hover above our third eyes and sip the nectar of our illumination.”

    I love this word picture that you painted.

  2. Apparently, my lil plane engine, after being in storage for quite some time, without maintenance, went weeeeeeeeeeee, woooooooooooooosh, frrrrrrrrrrp….ftt…baaaah…..

    …………….. (that’s a stall)

    and then a few valiant bweeeeeer

    hearing scotty in my head going….we’re givin’er all we’ve got cpn. lol

    • It’s funny. This morning I have awoken strangely annoyed, sad and distressed. But if I close my eyes and pause and feel–there it is, always. The joy at the center. The Presence which is joy itself, right in the middle of us, never absent, even when our plane is going down and we’ve got tears on our cheeks. Our planes will right themselves. But where will you and I put our attention today? On the sadness? (and the feeling of it might be the most important thing) Or on the joy which remains at the center of us and which invites us to realize that IT is all there is? No answers…heading to work.

    • One of my Gaia friends from the past had a blog called “Hidden in Plain Sight.” I just googled, looking for it, but apparently lots of people have used that blog title. I think that might describe our spiritual journey to a “t”.

  3. ummm, I can just see those peacocks and giraffs now. This is a rich read. It could be the start to some vast, deeply moving piece that sorts out lessons learned from experiences within the personal journey of each readers connection to memories from the lost city of Atlantis.

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