Sting of a wasp Rip of a nail A razor’s slice The needle’s plunge.
A piercing word A stab of betrayal The boundary crossed A trust broken.
In this lacerating moment Pain is all you know. Life is tattooing scripture into your flesh, Scribing incandescence in your nerves. Right here In this single searing point Of intolerable concentration, Wound becomes portal. Dive through to the wild brilliance of the Self.
~ Vijnana Bhairava Tantra
to fashion universes out of emptiness
The seed of life is within us all, our dance here is mundane, strange and wonderful.
Meanwhile, someplace in the world, somebody is making love and another a poem.
Where do you see a window you can open for a subtle sacrament to slip into your day?
A winter solstice 2020 short stream for a Movement Medicine community
Many on the spiritual path rightfully long for a sudden point in time when a shift happens
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