Open the pores of my heart Lord (audio)

Open the pores of my heart Lord

Open to pause in my heart

I want to feel you

Breathing within me.

Descending high

Enlightening up

I’m a feather on the breath of Your glory

Fill me with Power and Love

As hearts cry

Hold me, hold me, hold me

For You’re my

Holy, Holy, Holy.

 

(this came from a leaning into Love and an intimate cherishing of breaths which are of course fed from and by Michael W Smiths ‘Open the eyes of my heart Lord.’ It is really just a sharing of my desire to go deeper into the Body with these wonderful yearnings offered by his original song as a guide. I claim no originality and pray he forgives my use of his inspirations in this way)

Recent offerings for a meditation group

 

‘ Draw me into the flames of Your love. Unite me so closely with You that You live and act in me….It is all about love melting in Love.’

St Therese of Lisieux.

‘Just as those who look at the sun cannot but fill their eyes with light, so they who always have a steady gaze into their heart cannot fail to be illuminated…for the heart is our knowing centre, the place of Divine encounter…God speaks in the great silence of the heart.’

St Augustine.

 

A re-fertilised Lords Prayer

Blessed Mother-Father of the Cosmos,

whose delight flows through us in wave and particle,

whose presence is with us always

and whose Spirit dwells within.

Hallowed be your Name of names.

May your kingdom come,

and may your pleasure manifest in us in light and form,

to shine in our lives and on this earth,

just as it does in everything and no-thing.

Thank you for giving us this day.

Thank you for freely pouring out all that we need for sustenance,

nourishment and growth.

As we turn away from your enduring love,

forgive us for these times of un-ripeness.

Oh Birther of all that is and that is not,

forgive us when we trespass against you and those you put in our lives,

and help us forgive those who trespass against us.

Keep us from yielding to temptation,

and guide us away from anything or anyone who distracts us from your highest will.

Divine Light of light,

Deliver and protect us from all that is unripe and guide our spirit

that we may sparkle like jewels in a thousand petalled lotus flower.

Water plentifully our individual and communal roots

so that your living desire may blossom within us.

For all glory, power and abundant ripeness are yours almighty God

Just as it was before the beginning-ness,

it is now and always shall be radiant in Oneness and Love without end. Amen

This adaption is based around a guided centering prayer meditation offered by Maria Gullo (accessed via Insight Timer App), it is fertilised by the words of Neil Douglas Klotz and watered into further growth by Glenn Mower.

 

 

Open the pores of my heart Lord

Open to pause in our hearts

Breathing your love in me

Breathing out Unity.

 

Great chains of Being

Within a recent mindfulness gathering, a sweet young soul said:

‘As I have said before, I have noticed that I spend so much time looking down, full of my own thoughts, anxious, but now I have come to realise that all I need to do is look up and see the immensity of the sky and it all falls back into place and I am somehow calmed.’

And smiling outwardly then, and inwardly in the quiet of now, I touch half awareness’s of ancient wisdom echoing within our most human senses of spiritual drift…..

St Francis (looking at the stars) saying to us ‘if these are the creatures, what must the creator be like?’

Breathing with the writings of Richard Rohr who always Eager To Love expands upon Bonaventure, who riffing in fountains of fullness talks of that flow, that overflow that filling of all things into One positive direction.

Truly being within this Being

Be-hold:
all things in unity
Be-hold all:
contradictions and
coincidences.
let go to
cohere
in here and out to
hear wholesome Heart absorptions
awesome sweet knowings
in place and
Grounded.

clarion call:
clearly to
one and to all
through hard times to
timeless Oneness
and
Love.

Be-calmed with
Sweet Hearted St Clare.
walk
within her
lightness of heart and
firmness of foot
become
strident
and soft to
observe
Cosmic Bright Light.
squint as you
hook to string
Great Chains.
thread
Alpha, Omega and Eco
to systems beyond dots to this I this unstable
ego.

Be free from
fixations
Be
crossed above lines of
sentient living and
re calcification to
re-hang such stories to
Crucified
Wisdom.
pulse in flows of blood staining flesh
broken for dead beats to
Breathe in a-fresh.

If only

we

lonely could

stop running like chickens ruining the rest
fearful of loosing our feather-filled heads.

If ever together we
refilled in grace
yolked well and beyond this darkening place
to find
A Cosmos Grown
now and before

so to rest in-
completeness
ever after deepening in love from Our core.

Notes of thankfulness:

I am, once again immersing within the richness and flow of Richard Rohr’s distillations of Judy Cannato, St Francis, St Clare, Bonaventure and so give heart-felt thanks for and to all the known and unknown ancient and modern spiritual guides that I purposefully and inadvertently absorb plunder and surf within.

Clogged in incompleteness

If I leave

with my heart singed in fear

I step out on a road of hatred and isolation

I seep into rivers of painful recollection

deeply flowing from my neighbours eyes.

I recoil from your sideways glance

build walls to damn your half seen smile

preferring to congeal to the cut of  cynicism

(as if butter wouldn’t melt

upon this cold steak knife I call life)

I break out to escape from all that is other

rip skin from skin to bleed this heart deeply within

a barren disconnecting groan despite

Light dustings of Love.

When I feed on bloodshed and despair

I ooze in unfairness and choke upon

golden feathers that drift gloriously unseen

until sodden they fall into visions

that clog in my indigestible in-

completeness.

And so,  it seems again to me to be, so

hard to consume new limits to

unstitch my well known know how, to choose to

grow fresh green fruit in verdant gardens

to soothe in kindness when soft skin lacerates upon

time starved rocks. How to be

bolder as older I wish to choose to rock more gently this caged

and fleshy brain, swathe me in silence and wait-full-ness,

so I may gleefully greet these ever changing screams

with smiling forgiveness for

ever and ever and once and for all

to release these urgent calls to push, push, push this

river of shit that surges in my own forgetfulness.

How to keep hold of all the goodness that you foretold

the Wisdom that wades in this wonderful wetness

repleting refreshment with Words of encouragement

to this thing that I call soul.

 

 

 

 

 

This shadow skinned in the noon day sun

Jan Van Ruusbroec

 

from your 14th century Espousals, please

oh please, plentifully Arouse all my senses

‘In each and every new filled now,’

as this brow of mine re-touches

Mother Earths starry dust

somehow, let me believe that,

‘God Divine,’ is indeed,

‘born again within the very dark and deep of us.’

 

And when I’m done with all now’s

active nothingness

When I lift the navel of contemplation to resit

re-read, re-phrase, to extrapolate upon

more of your Praise onwards

ever onwards from Paragraph 1528

I wonder what it actually means

‘To annihilate all my free will,’ right now, to

‘Re-ignite my burning love, unfurl

this Heart’ to taste the ‘Spirit Storms’ that press above

and beyond my simple rational consciousness. Breathe

 

Oh,

 

words of Word please Breathe in me.

 

Oh,

 

Holy Spirit, Dharmakaya, Living Buddha, Cosmic Christ

Whoever you are, rise higher and as One,

return the call to gently empty this shell-like Body

this shadow skinned in the noon day sun

and then, if Your will is genuine, hear this

humble mumbled soft request to, begin again,

refill, renew Your ever-present interest in all that

moves this anatomically bereft blood and bone

and void filled chest.

Emerging within this new day

And so, a different approach to curating this moment by moment life. I write in a soft blur that comes while emerging from an ear ringing, heart pumping early morning meditation.

I have been staying at my parents rented flat over the past weekend. This is a pause before the 200 mile journey back to my own home town, a time to spend reflecting on the experience of writing this blog over the past few months. A time to digest the emotional impact if these past three days.

I would love to taste, to express a more inclusive spontaneous and free-flowing life. Something somehow, more precious, right now.

Maybe this blog can help with my aim of opening my heart to whatever  flowers and withers within my vista.

November and December saw me meet an exhaustion of body spirit and mind that  although well masked, drove grey tiredness into the very centre of my bones. I have not written here during this time.

Sitting here on this first day of 2018, with the starlings and woodpigeon calling from the exposed rafters in  the adjacent, half finished buildings, with my parents asleep and relaxed in their bedroom, with the boats rocking gently in the grey-green marina directly outside this second floor flat window, I can sense a peacefulness tinged with the fizz of apprehension and the unknown.

Will they be able to stay here? Will they be separated by dint of ill health and old age creeping upon them at different rates? Will I be able to live up to my mums expectation of being able to sort out the social work assessment and  unravel the financial implications of increasing care needs?

It seems that my dear step dad will, probably, need residential or nursing care quite soon. Yesterday he could walk and hold a knife and fork and was content to spend hours   sleeping lopsidedly in his old leather chair. The day before he was fighting the wonderful, humble and gentle carer as she tried to wash him and change his pad, he was unable to work out how to unlock his knee joints to sit down and had developed a yellowish-blue tinge that seem ominously, unspokenly sad.

And now, with the scorched grass on the distant mud flats beginning to recover from last nights wind driven bonfire, with the plastic corks and purple glitter, with the party hats and burnt out firework casings absorbing the damp still pavements and walkways, I gaze out beyond these floor-to-ceiling triple glazed upvc windows and wonder what this year has in store.