Memory

All posts tagged Memory

Historical Connection

Published August 4, 2018 by tindertender
nicolas-thomas-550496-unsplash.jpg
Photo by Nicolas Thomas

Tall man in a dark cloak standing at the mouth of a cave. The high arch was laid with what appear to be stone bricks of a sort, not just carved into a hillside. His skin was pale and he pulled back his hood, for a brief moment, so brief I cannot consciously remember the features of his face.

A woman was standing a short way off, wearing a buff sleeveless shirt, form fitting, hair flowing, staff in her left hand and right foot stepped and resting atop a high spot of the rocky ground.

Another cloaked figure, waving hands in a circular motion in front of their body, creating what appeared to be a shield. They were hit from the right side with a bright white energy blast straight to the head. Obviously a peaceful transaction/transition didn’t work out.

“You get to a stage where the skin just ain’t …” … a benefit? Perhaps this body hinders us from true expansion, from the freedom to be who we really are.

“I didn’t think she’d make it” ,he said to someone near. “I didn’t think I’d make it either”, I replied.

There is a man, back to me, standing on a hill of tall golden grasses. In his right hand he holds a container of sorts. His hair is short (but not super short, kind of like John Denver’s style) and sandy in color. He wears blue pants and a tan shirt.

There is a very tall and slender rock which rises from the earth. Atop it is a two story, white dwelling …

Who is Stenzia?

Blessings Of A Quiet Haven

Published May 17, 2018 by tindertender

As I listen to the sounds of running water I am transported to my bedroom, 37 years ago. The window is open and the river runs just outside. The crickets are singing, and the frogs are croaking. I see the light of the moon shine through the curtain.

The shock of quiet is great when city life is left behind. No people sounds, no neon lights, stars come out at night and the wonder of it is amazing. The city takes nature from the human and gives constant disruption.

Tar bubbles in the pavement on a hot day, poked and deflated with a little stick. Pitch bubbles in the bark of the trees, popped and watched as it flows out and down. Sticky spots on hands where dirt clings to the pitch spots, the aroma strong and pure. Sun glistening on the rivers waves, watched as the water flows through bend after bend, seen from the top of the highest tree.

Red ant hills alive with scurrying ants, working to tend their home. Black ants flying about before they land and drop their wings. Old coca cola bottle buried in the hard soil from long ago. Trail along rivers edge, grasses grown high on either side. Deer flies, Horse flies, mosquitoes.

Field of green grass, trees at the edge where deer and elk bed down for the night. Mushrooms and wild strawberries, three petaled flowers, fallen trees feeding them all. Birds flying through the branches, resting there too. Squirrels, coyotes, bear, and cougar. Fish spawning and resting in the banks of hidden rivers edges.

The wind blows though the hair, brushing the skin, filling the lungs. Deep breaths, a song is sung for the pleasure of my ears, and those I do not see. A prayer given to the forest, questions asked which are answered, in thought, in sensing.

Blessings, these memories are, for when I remember I am transported once again to this place, this quiet haven where so few travel.

Sense And Memory

Published March 1, 2018 by tindertender

Dog licking glassLooking out the dog slobber stained sliding door, I do not see them. I suppose they must be out there digging in the earth, searching for rats. The rain has begun to fall moistening the soil, muddy paws will return soon begging to be let in. Ah, there’s one now. As I open the door the scent of damp earth fills my nostrils, pleasant, reminding me of home, so long ago.

memories.jpgI spoke with an old friend tonight, it has been nearly thirty four years since we have seen each other, a lifetime ago. This journey has had many bumps along the way and I am determined to run with what remains, forward, ever forward. Perhaps even upward, as another friend describes it.

How can I pack a mound of creativity into what remains of this life? I want to paint, to write, to sing, to dance, to garden, to create medicines, to live clean and good with compassionate heart, and with care for all sentient beings. Is this what I said before arrival?  Is this the determination I wished? If so, it seems I wandered far from this path but here I find myself once again.

spiritual-loveMy hope before the end is that I discover what it means to truly love … not some pepped up notion associated with lust, but a deep and all encompassing love which is so much bigger than I could ever imagine. I hope it fills me before I exit this place to bursting before I leave, and I hope I carry it out of here with me to share with those who wait.

The water flows and drops into the pool below. Not as I imagined it would be. The sound is not quite soothing, but it gets the job done, or so I like to think, converting ions into something more useful for a pleasant atmosphere.

dreamsI do not bother to light candles this night, bed time will be soon. Dreams a-plenty I’m sure await, changing amid wakeful moments. I’ve left the TV off again for a few days, and it will remain off for many more. I am amazed at the way programs affect my dream life. No, they don’t belong there. My days experience will be the only influence in my nights for a time, healing happens here. Television interrupts the flow that ought to be, it is apparent after only a short while watching.

Gathering my fur kids I’ll leave this room. They run about snorting, sniffing frantically, listening to every sound. They too need to calm down, and so we go.

Loves Held Dear

Published February 1, 2018 by tindertender

Wrinkles and creases mar smooth surface, yet still it stands upright, capable of task. Leaning slightly to the left, open at the top, all kinds of dust settles there. The innards of this  crumpled mess hold something so dear, sacred substance for healing, for cleansing the spirit, the whole.

chimeChimes stand still, wind will not move them. Made with love and careful measurement, every bead and every shell strategically placed, a beautiful sight to see. Memories of idle time put to good use … Creativity flowing in silence.

Love framed in dark lines,
Held in place with glue.
Cavern containing fresh waters wait,
Wanting to be discovered.

Rain comes through the shaking of a stick,
Over and over it pours out sound.
Flowers in bubbles,
Collectors piece, yearning for contact with eyes.

A pond and reeds, still and quiet,
A hint of color shows life.

Dawn Rising

Published December 19, 2017 by tindertender

20150607_052347_resizedAn idea is sparked at the break of day in the heart of those awakening. Dew has settled upon the tender grasses under foot, moistening shoes as a morning stroll is taken.

“I think that’s it!” A thought, a sight seen, no meaning in particular is attached to it as shadows swim in and out, created by a rising sun. The earth smells fresh as sparkling light reflects off small droplets.

Lightning is triggered in pathways of the mind, excitement for a new beginning, fresh, clean and untouched.

Back in the moment … little gray lines with white. A pattern emerges, solidifying. Elbows rest on this platform, a chill enters the room. Light here is false. It seems to drain the body of color, sapping the force which keeps it warm.

Barely perceptible, there is movement under flesh, not unusual, only forgotten for a time. There is an invisible river flowing there, often portrayed by blood in veins. Unseen, only felt, sensed by the one who is housed here.

A little piece of wood with a hollow and a blade. It fits in the palm of my hand. Its use is yet to be determined. I put it in my pocket.

A wand, full of small flowers from a lavender bush, wrapped in ribbon, takes me back to the day it was created, in sunshine, bees buzzing … their little bits of happiness filling the air. I do not want to leave.

Grateful for memory I visit the library of my mind. Once again going to the isle where joy is kept, filed very orderly by year. Some day the halls that hold darkness will burn and make room for proliferation of sweet bliss.

Peace Wins

Published October 8, 2017 by tindertender

“Our purpose is to invoke each others greatness, and to attempt working a daily miracle in each others lives. Therefore, ask yourself: what miracle have you created from your own heart today?”

“Human Angels were seeded beyond the mists of time, to act as Guardians to those who have forgotten who they truly are. We were coded to awaken the true nature of every human being here on earth as a soul-filled presence.”

~ Stewart Pearce, The Heart’s Note

People often look at those they have known from the past, and remember them from that time frame ~ memories which include good things, as well as not so good things.

Logo-Past-Memories

During life, what we may have believed, or what we did not know, at the age of twenty, changed by the time we turned 30, 40, 50 and so on. By living, we have learned. Mistakes have sometimes been our greatest lessons.

An author was questioned about his beliefs, for they differed from his first book to the second, and then again from the second to the third. He replied that the first book was authentic in where he was at the time, and through life, thoughts about subjects changed, reflected in each book, marked by published date.

This is true for most of us. As we mature, our ideas about right and wrong, and in general, how we think things ought to go, change.

It is easy to meet someone we knew 30 years ago, memory takes us right to that time frame (interesting how this works) and we instantly remember all the crazy stuff that happened. Yet, that someone has changed. That someone may have changed so much (visualized by the body they wear today, different from 30 years ago, yes?) that they do not even resemble the memories now in the forefront of the mind.

It is important that we see these changes not only in ourselves, but that we also consider the changes which have occurred in others. Letting go of the old, and moving into the new. Healing comes from embracing lessons, hugging them as a dear friend, and then releasing them. Progress in our personal relationship with self, and in our relationships with others, depends on this release ~ it requires that we be willing to move forward.

Personal PowerWith excitement, look toward the future, for it is what you will make it to be. Don’t get too wrapped up in what this one or that one is doing, or how if they don’t change, nothing will. NO! Change happens in your heart, and the affect of this change ripples into the world. Take ownership, stop giving up your power … FOCUS.

The changes you create do not have to be big, or even noticed by anyone. These changes will be felt. The senses of all life are becoming magnified. One person, one location, many ripples at a time … united, as energies touch.

Peace wins.

Past lives, knowledge gained ~ Worth remembering?

Published May 28, 2017 by tindertender

I’ve been pondering life and the ongoing saga of it. I thought how wonderful it would be to remember everything learned along the way, perhaps it would make it easier not to repeat mistakes. However, with the remembering of all lessons comes also the remembering of death.

Last night I remembered, and the trade off is not worth it. People are viscous and cruel and remembering death is not something I prefer for retaining knowledge. This was only one of 5 deaths I recall, and thinking about the many times one dies in these cycles, the trauma can, and would, add up to be something that is not easily dealt with. Faith in the goodness of humanity would be further destroyed.

If we are to assist each other in becoming something more … something better than before … then we must be able to see clearly the good that dwells in each other, unhindered by the past.

Today, I will look deeply for the goodness. I will do my utmost to BE that goodness I long to see in the world. Consciously, I will pour forth this effort and I hope it will be met by those doing the same.

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