Quiet of the morning and some deep thoughts…


Rooftops
Digital photo manipulated in Photoshop

I love the tranquility of early morning. All is quiet and the light is just creeping up from the horizon. The cars haven’t yet started their busy procession on Harvard Street and all I can hear are the birds hooting and chirping, and the churning pot of coffee I just put on to brew.

I have been blessed by some wonderful online friends. The Belle Papier Yahoo group has been a mainstay for me for many years now. It has accompanied me through good times and bad, has inspired me to create, even through dry spells, and when the droughts persist, the community has gathered ’round and been supportive. Mostly consisting of women artists, this board has been one of the few that I read and participate on regularly.

I got home yesterday to a couple of packages in the mail from some of my Salon Sisters… one of them contained a peacock feather, which I promptly inserted into the pen holder sitting my desk next to my computer. This morning, feeling contemplative with my cup of coffee and poking through some old blogs that I’ve had open for weeks, it occurred to me that perhaps the feather represented something deeper. I am one of those people who believes that nothing that occurs in our lives is insignificant if we are in-tune to its message.

So I Google-d ‘peacock feather’ and ‘spiritual’ and found the following: “Sri Krishna wears a peacock feather that reminds us of his play with the gopas and gopis of Sri Vrindavana. The male peacock especially has long been a symbol of romantic love, and the rasalila episode of Sri Krishna’s life teaches us how this kind of love may be directed to God.”

Having been a devotee of Krishna (many, many years ago), this made sense to me. I’ve been feeling somewhat… unsettled… lately. Romantic love could never be further at this junction in my life. While I spent a good part of my youth seeking it out, I realize that perhaps it is not what the focus of this lifetime was meant to be. Geez, it’s taken me long enough to get to that conclusion. And yet, I feel the need to direct the energy associated with it somewhere, and have been doing some investigating. I came across a book by Sharon Gannon and David Life entitled Jivamukti Yoga – Practices for Liberating Body and Soul. In its teachings, perhaps I will find what I am looking for, though I have yet to get started. If I have learnt nothing else in this life, I have certainly learned the art of procrastination.

The cycle of birth and life and death and rebirth—samsara—has had significant meaning to me lately, perhaps because I am at the middle of my life (well, one doesn’t ever really know what the timeline is, does one?), and the proximity of the “end” is drawing nearer. So much to do, so little time… though, so much time wasted, too. In fact, samsara will be the subject of the tattoo that I have decided to get… circling around my belly button—the source of my beginnnings, and hitting three chakras along the way, will be the depiction of the cycle of birth-life-death. Apparently, my higher self believes it is something I need to be reminded of.

I have spent so much time on trying to unravel my purpose. Life at times seems so pointless… why are we here? What is the point if we simply live and then die? Have I been put here for a specific and special purpose, or am I just here for the heck of it? Why are the Gods so conceited that they require all of us little soul sparks to idolize them and devote our lives to them? If we are made in God’s image, then we must share Godly qualities, and even our imperfections must be reflective of the qualities which we mirror? Is God perfect? Is God just a flowing stream of creative force, and the collective emanations that we consist of as a whole (from the sand on the shores… to the meteors flying through space… to humanity) a by-product of this creative force, simultaneously co-creating ourselves?

This in-body state that I currently find myself in has been a source of pleasure and joy as well as resentment. At times it feels like a heavy cage that encases me and keeps me from soaring to where I feel I need to be, and yet it also provides the vehicle to be able to experience things that are only possible in this form. I am ever the Ghost in a Shell.

And now to bring my meandering thoughts back to the Salon Sisters… here is a (translated) Sanskrit prayer to you, regardless of your spiritual affiliations:

vancha-kalpatarubhyas ca
kripa-sindhubhya eva ca
patitanam pavanebhyo
vaishnavebhyo namo namah

I offer my respectful obeisances unto all the Vaishnava devotees of the Lord. They can fulfill the desires of everyone, just like desire trees, and they are full of compassion for the fallen souls.

Namaste,
Adriane

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