We run around this Earth,
thinking we are creators
of our own lives,
influencing
the life around us,
when, in fact,
we are simply a conduit
for life
to express itself.

Only when we humble ourselves
to this simple truth
can we claim our greatness.

The past is not a place -
it is a dream,
of moments long gone,
a stream of memories
shifting and fading,
drifting like smoke
through our thoughts.

And likewise,
neither is there a future,
outside of our dreams and fears,
which flow, mirror-like,
away from the stream
of remembrance.

There is only one place
that is not a dream,
and that is where
we are now,
living and breathing,
poised in time,
and beyond it.

It is easy to forget
we are a village
until we come together
to celebrate
what we love,
and what we are.

Through this ritual of drumming,
we become family again,
rediscovering what binds us
and defines us
as a community,
as we find ourselves,
once again,
in this Heaven
on earth.

How much healing
derives from the world outside,
and how much simply comes
from our willingness
to be whole again?

How often
does suffering remind us
that the pain we feel
is mostly a sundering
of ourselves
from ourselves?

It is a message
from our mortal self,
a call for kindness,
so that that within us
which never dies
can offer comfort
to that which does.

I row this boat
that I call “my life”
down the stream of time,
forgetting, mostly,
that it is all a dream.

Sometimes
I strain frantically
against the tug
of life’s unfolding,
convinced
that my very essence
depends on my resisting.

Or, I may row gently,
half waking from the dream,
enjoying the flow,
tranquil and trusting
that these waters will take me
wherever
I am meant to go.

How does Spirit flow through us,
when we don’t even know
what it is?

Maybe it is only
when we give up understanding
that Spirit CAN flow,
as we free ourselves
from the tyranny of our minds.

When I step outside
of my own mind,
out of the stream
of my jostling thoughts,
I find a realm of peacefulness,
already there,
where I am.

When I look outside
my own identity,
with all its little problems
and inadequacies,
I find a spaciousness
where it is enough to be
what I already am.

Each experience is a gift,
and an opportunity.

We may accept it,
which brings peacefulness,

or resist it,
which brings suffering,

or respond with action,
which leads to new experience.

Sometimes my mind
is like a swamp,
alive with swarming thoughts,
like a thousand shiny lures,
bait for my hungry soul.

And sometimes,
a glint of light
reveals my hunger itself
as just a thought,
and all those tasty,
tantalizing morsels
recede into my imagination,
and I am free to swim again
in clear water,
my real home.

We were born
to appreciate this world,
to see the beauty in it,
and the suffering.

We are here
to share that beauty,
and to ease the suffering,
as best we can.

With our joy
and our compassion,
we fulfill the gift
of being human.