I had a moment today, sat out on the back deck in the sunshine, all the paints, brushes, palette there...canvas primed and ready to go.

The birds were almost raucous, so many, and so loud...the surf in the background pounding the shore, high tide, the usual sunday morning sounds, lawnmowers going, dogs barking...

I picked up the brush, mixed up some paint, and as the brush stroked across the canvas, I could feel every bristle moving across the weave of the canvas.

All noise disappeared...as the focus narrowed down, down down...I became the brush, the paint, the canvas.

Engrossed in what I was doing, I forgot about time...(about out there)...

Eventually I had to stand up... I was painting indigenous australian style, cross legged, with the canvass flat on the ground.

When I stood, every cell in the soles of my feet could feel the grain and texture of the boards...the air felt more oxygenated as I breathed.... the sun on my head more 'yellow'..


it was as if my senses were more acute.

Our lives are so chock full of distractions, of business or busy-ness...we become deprived of our senses....

we exist in a time of sensory deprivation...

I rediscovered stillness and narrowing one's focus down, can 'open up' the senses...


thoughts?

I do have the same feeling on occasion.

On my walks, when I happen to pass a certain old tree, I usually put my hand on the bark, the world around me seems to disappear.

It feels like the tree and I have a conversation no other one could hear.

It is not a conversation in words, it's the energy we are exchanging somehow. And I do not have the words to describe the feeling either.

It's, yes, it's peaceful.

Lost in the timeless flash of eternity
I touch the face of God
stripped of past and future
I stand in the abyss of the ever-changing now
undulating with perpetual sensations
vibrating against the essence of my soul
never have I been closer to the core of life

Freed from the busy-ness of restless expectation
I take no thought of moments to come
for I have become the now
the purest essence of time
the everlasting interlude of life
existing in the epoch between the ticks

Silent sounds merge in harmony
words divorce their meanings
the sun surrounds me from within
for even distance has shrunken to a point
I neither end, nor does the universe begin
anywhere but everywhere

I touch the skin of an ancient tree
and feel its spirit hearken
exchanging deep emotions
in a communiqué
that words cannot convey

The boards beneath my feet
fill my essence with their grain
the air I breathe satiates my lungs
the cosmic orb of light
floating in the sky
bathes my face with fervent fiery color

To be
to just be
is the secret
of eternity



Abracadabra 7/26/2009