on the world of Tea

on the world of Tea in tealand where everyone has a giant teapot on their heads, their tea is everything, they start as little tea cups with a tea bag and their parents add their teas to the cup, then their friends and teachers, as they grow they learn to transform their teacups into teapots. everyone carries their tea with great pride and talk about how their tea was fashioned, some are dark and bitter some light and fresh, and everyone shares tea at tea time and its almost always tea time. well this tea was handed down through generations and this is a brand new improved tea and tea tea tea all the time. one day a fine young teapot went wandering down the well kept miles of tea gardens and tea plantations and decided to go exploring in the tea mountains where he heard exotic herbs and spices could be found to mix into his tea. after a few days of wandering through the forests and mountains where he had sampled some of the very strange plants he had found and experienced wonderful flavors and scents he never before imagined, he came upon a small cave, as he peered inside he saw a horrible sight, a t-man without his teapot, he looked like a ragged shaggy mound seated upon the dirt. he rushed in to see if the poor pot was alive, it lay next to the shaggy mound barely distinguishable from the rocks and dirt, it had lost all its teapottiness. he heard the mound make some noise and he bent to see if the teaman was alive. the shaggy face spoke softly, let me put on my teapot so you will understand what I have to say. and he placed the battered old pot on, the boy asked why he didn't have a pot and what possessed him to live without tea. tea is what life is isn't it? the old man beckoned the boy closer and spoke, boy, he says, how can you fill a tea cup that is already full? you must first empty your pot before you can drink my wisdom. go sit upon the rock outside and pour out your tea. then can you enjoy the true tea of life. there is a vast ocean of tea, it is the source of all teas, and one drop from this ocean renders all other teas unnecessary. this divine tea fills every pot forever never ending with a taste that none can describe. but I cannot mix this tea with the foul brew that you have filled yourself with. go out and enlighten you pot so it may be filled with nectar unlike any you have ever tasted. so the boy, intrigued went out and sitting very still he opened the spigot of his pot and let his tea go, emptying emptying until only the dregs remained. he reentered the cave and sat still as the old man instructed him, focus on the emptiness within your pot, there is no tea that you are, you are not your tea, there is a deeper tea, a tea that flows like a river through everything. don't resist the tea become its depth and its flavor, one you have never tasted, you don't fill you pot with this tea, you become the tea, you are the tea. there is no pot, there is no cup there is no saucer, there is only the ever widening ocean of tea and from it all teapots are filled. this is abundance my son, this is everlasting tea and no teaman has created this tea, this is the tea of the universal pot, the never ending tea of all existence. you are this tea and this tea is you. you were created to find this tea within, not to create your own tea but to share in the universal tea of creation from which all others teas were made. now let go of your pot and feel the freedom of potlessness, for within you all tea resides.

each one of us is Christ

each one of us is Christ and the crucifixion, joan of arc and the burning stake, looking for the one true thing that makes this life meaningless in the face of its absolute necessity, the spark that devours all in its conflagration and destruction, leaving only the manifest proof of the divine in our consciousness. this world has lost its meaning in the play of greed and power, every life a pawn and few knights or castles remain in the game. the world tilts with the inequities and preponderance of unconscious negligence and self directed actions, forgetting the complete sacrifice of love that brought each into this existence. giving from the heart is all we have, and accepting from the humble soul this tiny role is enough to change even the entire world if done with sincere love and heartfelt intention, for its not the work we do but that we do work and we give all from our heart as we do it, not for a reward but for its own joy, to be alive to be giving and to be able to give, no heart is too small no gift too unimportant, for one touch of love changes the world, everyone is pulled to its soft sweetness and like a childs happiness brings a smile into every heart. life is for the living, the giving, the transforming of moment to moment the experience of love. one heart unwound, turned from the self to the world, filled with the purity of who everyone is, in their deepest soul, in their quest to change for the better, there all things are possible, all feelings true and manifesting dreams built not on sacrifice and suffering but on surrender and gratitude, for no god requires the end of love to begin this work, but only the acceptance of the love that is already there, one small gift that never stops giving, your life and everyone sharing their heart, not to create the world but to accept the one that is already perfect.

Stretching

stretching, the muscles pull and resist, let go and contract, each a part of the whole, every motion a new discovery of the body, the system, its unwillingness yet eager to let go.  there is no pain like the sensation of age, the accretion of time upon the physical membranes. I am not this ancient machine, yet it is all I have to do my work here. in pure consciousness, all is perfect all is complete even as the unfolding is going on. I see the separation and the connectedness all the fusion of being and the awareness of billions of beings embodied in the capsules of time and space. every thought a dimension of existence that seeks a radiance, opens a door small or large into an unknowable truth, that which precedes every action and follows every completion, there is the emptiness the unexperienced soul, before birth, after death it is as it even now is, potential unrealized, formless in the midst of being created, the one source that never submits to desire or need, untouched by all that happens, great or small, there is nothing that reveals or exposes the truth of what is beyond this conscious life, beyond even the supreme existence and divine light. there is the end of all that exists, it awaits everything, and from that end a new beginning is created eternally, the souls formed of a substance that experiences all and is touched by nothing, the awakened being, learning the path of existence, without judgment without excitement, without attachment, allowing all to come, not wavering in the brightest light or the blackest emptiness, beyond all time, infinite in capacity and alone eternally, one loves the souls journey in every eye and gesture and sound, the life that is lived as the children of the self, unashamed to come forward and touch in wonder the life of love and grace that evolves in this physical plane.