“It’s much easier in some ways to just remain asleep. But we’ve been called to be awake. Maybe there is something within ourselves, within the world, that is struggling to come awake. We have to respond to that call, that prompting. It is so painful to recognize what we are doing. But something drives me to bring that consciousness into everyday life, to share it, as if there is some light wanting to wake up. It is not my light or your light, but the light of the whole, of something within life that is struggling for its own survival.” ~ Llewellyn Vaughn-Lee, author/editor Spiritual Ecology

It’s much easier in some ways to just remain asleep. But we’ve been called to be awake. Maybe there is something within ourselves, within the world, that is struggling to come awake. We have to respond to that call, that prompting.   It is so painful to recognize what we are doing. But something drives me to bring that consciousness into everyday life, to share it, as if there is some light wanting to wake up. It is not my light or your light, but the light of the whole, of something within life that is struggling for its own survival.

“Some day, if you are lucky, you’ll return from a thunderous journey trailing snake scales, wing fragments and the musk of Earth and moon. Eyes will examine you for signs of damage, or change and you, too, will wonder if your skin shows traces of fur, or leaves, if thrushes have built a nest of your hair, if Andromeda burns from your eyes. Do not be surprised by prickly questions from those who barely inhabit their own fleeting lives, who barely taste their own possibility, who barely dream. If your hands are empty, treasureless, if your toes have not grown claws, if your obedient voice has not become a wild cry, a howl, you will reassure them. We warned you, they might declare, there is nothing else, no point, no meaning, no mystery at all, just this frantic waiting to die. And yet, they tremble, mute, afraid you’ve returned without sweet elixir for unspeakable thirst, without a fluent dance or holy language to teach them, without a compass bearing to a forgotten border where no one crosses without weeping for the terrible beauty of galaxies and granite and bone. They tremble, hoping your lips hold a secret, that the song your body now sings will redeem them, yet they fear your secret is dangerous, shattering, and once it flies from your astonished mouth, they–like you–must disintegrate before unfolding tremulous wings.” ~The Return by Geneen Marie Haugen

Art by Charles Frizzell

Source ~ Shamantube

Well I’ve seen those things that one could only see in dreams…

But I’ve got nothing to fear

Because I know there are others here

Who feel the same as me

So brothers, sisters let us march

Let us show the world our hearts

With faith and humility

Yes, set your sails put out to sea

Rest your fears and come with me

We’ll get an eternal view

And we have seen those things

That one could only see in dreams

“What if all of this is towards your happiness? What if catastrophe is not as it seems – destructive in its dismantling of all we’ve made familiar – but creative, in Nature’s way, always evolving towards the most harmonious design. Of course, it’s natural to resist that which is crumbling away and being taken from us too soon, but it may be precisely because you are ready for a broader, more expansive perspective. A widening of your way in the world. Your way was not wrong and you are not being punished. This is not ‘the price you have to pay’ for your ignorance. This is happiness wanting to get through, like determined rays slicing through an obscuring fog.” ~ Dreamwork with Toko-pa

Painting by Gabriel Pürstinger