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Saturday, August 27, 2011

Journal begun

i think its time to journal my time here. its been a month since i started this journey to remain here while i heal. the days have been singularly hot to very warm, continuous sunshine and high altitudes. the sky is light at 5:30 and sets after 7:30, usually with unbelievable pink and orange light. yesterday was amazing, driving back from Lancaster towards the mountains wreathed in dark clouds, the sun slipped unseen beneath them and lit the sky with a pink light that overlaid the many colors of the dusk setting. what majesty in every days creation. we are lost in the love of the mother here and even this is her pronouncement of unending abundance to the very last ray of sunlight and the glimmering of the stars and galaxies deep in the wash of the milky way. yesterday on my daily walk up the chumash road, a couple of miles of gentle ascent, i found on my return two quartz white stones dense and powerful laying at the side of the road. they looked to be perfectly mated and waiting for me. i picked them up one in each hand and felt their stony vibration. these two have held the soul of the mountain for centuries and now have been set out for my needs. in these stones i could feel the coming of the thunder lizards and saber toothed tigers, mastodons and ice sheets that lasted for centuries. here the very heavens connected to the earth and man arose a child of the universe alone and supremely connected beyond the knowing of all other creatures. here the soul of creation danced and wept, made love and gave birth, fought and died without proof except that we are that child of the mother come to make our peace with love and sorrow. once we knew that there are souls in the earth and trees and sky, now we sit alone but for our faith, blind and deaf to the world and spirits surrounding us. where these crystals once sat fused by the heat and pressure of the birth of this planet, then smashed into a million fragments each containing the soul of this mother earth, the warrior and the shaman nature of existence, and spread throughout the crust the flesh of this earth. and now they rest heavily in my hands a long mile from my car parked down the side of the dusty road miles from the village in the mountains where we live. i carry these powerful souls to the car, my arms aching with the effort but i feel the unalterable truth that they want to be with us in the house on the ridge where the energy sings all love eternally throughout the universe. here at the center of the world, i feel the very center of the universe, all things are drawn, like a whirlpool so vast we cannot understand its motion but only live in its unending power. as such even the stones are slowly ceaselessly tumbling and rolling pulled and moved by unseen forces to connect to the inexhaustible energy of the mother now flowing through this shrine to her love, this home of her keeping, this temple of her brilliant truth. we sit and listen for hours to the teachings revealed by the master SwamiJi and his followers and devotees from India and the west, recorded just days ago in his ashram in nevada. the love of the mother and the wisdom of the universal soul emancipated in the form of Sri Aurobindo and revealed through the teachings of Sri Atmananda all glory and power to the work of the Mother on earth and from her MahaSamadhi in Pondicherry India and now this living sanctuary in the mountains of southern california. this is the center of her love manifest for her and all who are drawn to be here, and how wonderful it is to be drenched in this force continually each day. the day is meditations and small chores to keep everything clean and perfectly organized with beauty grace and harmony everywhere in all the elements that live here. nothing is here by accident or through casual thoughtlessness. each candle, flower, cup dish, spice, cushion, rug, place setting has a part in the creation of the perfection, none is ignored or allowed to deteriorate. in this manner all is offered to her and for her and comes from her so we all become that heart of her heart and held in her arms. here we can surrender all thought of our own and live only for her divine mission. rain comes in the dense humidity that is so rare at these elevations and wind throws table umbrellas and outdoor rugs and statuary around and we collect and situated as needed to preserve them, the sky is dark and the rain a blessing of unexpected summer storm clouds and we smell the earthy aromas released and the air is thick with the promises of the coming seasons dormant in the soil. the twin stones of white and bronze quartz sit wet upon the posts before our tiny rose garden where three new buds have bloomed in perfection around the deep green mint leaves growing in between. love is in every plant and all are filled with the attractive force of love, imbuing everything with an inner glow and sparkling shine. even the dried flowers left from offerings have a perfect burnished rose petal aura full of service given and the fulfillment of that purpose. we close the house to the wind and falling rain and set out to do the weekly shopping and hours drive away. its not until an hour past sunset that we return, the car filled and a passenger, our child of the mother, joining us to share her day and the triumphs and pitfalls of her new employment and the people she meets. what is it mother wants us to do and how can i create love where none is given? her heart beats with Mothers purpose and she thinks only of her connection through the divine to this life we are given and choose to return perfectly to her complete and alive for her work.

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