The silence of the plants, of the trees, is the silence of my deepest core.
Let me return to this.
Yesterday I read in a book about feminine yang.
This type of yang is firm, and is not judgmental in a patriarchal way.
I feel I have found a magnificent treasure…
I have a bit of a cold and feel the need to slow down and take it easy.
This apparently has to do with a portal of energy towards a higher consciousness, where we leave everything behind that is outdated.
It is important for me to let go and to trust, in order to regain my composure.
Time and again I return to my presence in the Now.
My body is integrating the new consciousness.
This morning I was driving on the freeway and I saw a truck with the text: ‘You need wings’.
We need wings to leave the known behind us, in full trust that the winds of change will support our flight.
It is raining outside, inside a candle is burning.
I search for serenity in myself on this first day of the new Maya year.
The Maya’s have many calendars. One of them is based on the cycle of the moon: One year consists of thirteen months of 28 days plus one day outside time.
The advantage of a moon calendar is that it is universal.
Everywhere on earth it is full moon on the same day, whereas the influence of the sun depends on the location.
This year is characterized by the energy of the sun glyph Muluc, Red moon.
Recently I made a little sculpture of ‘La última madre’ for the Mystery school.
I used papier-mâché and painted the figure afterwards.
She showed herself like a wise old Indian woman with her black hair in a long braid on her back.
I love to look at her.
I once asked her for counsel and the answer she gave me was astounding!
I notice during the long flight to the U.S. that I not only bring my brand new red suitcase, but also my emotional luggage, that is to say, my reaction to the people at home.
In the hotel room with a view on the hills of New Mexico I am wide-awake in the middle of the night. This has to do with the eight hours time-difference.
I need a lot of creativity to find a way to spend these hours in a pleasant way.
Fortunately I have a pen and a writing pad.
I meditate a bit and, with my mind as empty as possible, I try to analyze my problem of not really being here.
To find out more about my condition I doodle with a pen on a paper and I see that it has to do with pure chaos.
Now it is clear to me that I do need to resolve something.
Therefore I draw a picture of a more balanced state: A sacred space with just me in it and a lighted candle.
This helps.
While I am sitting next to the rock that protects our house against the wind I decide to ask the rock to talk to me.
I hear the chirps of birds and the sound of breaking waves, but the rock is silent.
She has closed up and I get the feeling that my integrity is being questioned.
In order for me to write about what the rock has to say to me, a deeper integrity is needed.
I tune in again and listen.
Never have I had my ear this close to the rock.
I had abandoned the courage to ever be able to listen to what the rock had to tell me.
The rock has been involved in all kinds of happenings.
Once she was a horizontal layer of the earth and now she is almost vertical.
From being the ground under our feet she has become the protector of our house against too much wind.
She is so beautiful.
That’s what I would like to say to the rock.
The warmth of the sun of the day still radiates from her.
I hear a tone similar to the sound of insects. This may be the reflection of the sound of the sea against the rock, but also something new.
It may be something the rock herself wants to tell me.
I feel my small self near the big miracle of this rock.
I feel that it is important as a human not to just write a story about this, because this kind of self centeredness is precisely what is keeping us apart.
I feel the necessity to grow in love in order to be worthy of the trust of the rock.
Apparently the rock is telling me about the earth having been exploited by man.
About the feeling of having been taken for granted by humans, without true attending.
I want to ask the rock to forgive me and mankind, but at the same time I know that as far as I am concerned I have some way to go before I am worthy of the trust of the rock.
This has been the first step.
Sometimes life pushes a bit.
This time it was a big poke.
What’s going on?
The Lynn Andrews Mystery school has planned a four day stay in the U.S. twice a year.
I had totally put aside the idea of attending the first gathering at the end of May.
There were many reasons for this decision:
Visiting the U.S. twice a year is too luxurious, I cannot be missed at home, I want to be present at all the dates of the tennis competition.
The final registration date for the gathering was three weeks ago.
All of a sudden I got restless. My inner self wanted to attend.
Within two days everything was arranged.
I will go.
Every evening after sunset, Venus appears in the sky as a bright star.
When I look again she also, just like the sun, has disappeared behind the horizon.
The lamps inside are lit, we see the latest news on television while at any moment the mystery is taking place.
In Holland the children still go to school, while in Spain everybody is celebrating the "Semana Santa", the week before Easter.
The waves of the ocean quietly roll in an everlasting encounter with the earth.
The orange sun disappears behind the horizon, lighting the skies with a golden glow.
A seagull passes our window.
Why am I here?
I am here.