Above All Else

Raising my mind out of the world and desiring peace for all was a necessary journey.  An inability to decline it.

There was a fall from grace.  A tumble and a get up again.  I could see the artistry of trickery and deceit. The nuances of illusion and ignorance. The enactment of peace came long before me.

The process of easing a person into the world of saintly treasure.

It could have been the loss of family, friends and plans in so many ways. The forced journey to feelings of isolation and the need to find something that seemed honest and true.

The disillusionment of the world that keeps creating war and famine. The workings that seem to create more suffering for others.

The desires to take power for the self and bring to light a vision of a future healed of the past fueled by the momentum of knowing that is exactly the thing we do.

It was a constant call to find what was truly within and most desirable and shine it up. To reveal its truest nature and put it to use in this world. It is a call from within us. Far from alone in this endeavor – humans seek and attempt to find peace. The ways we try to end our own suffering and that of others.

In my pursuits I found a part of myself that I could identify with as holding the dearest of my values and desires as a human. A pearl. Virtuous and beyond repute.

This part of me, when able to be accessed, feels authentically content in presence and happy being in service to and with others. It knows what to do with a neutral kind of pleasure  and sustained joy. Action in a positive direction.

Living in that way my emotions seem steady and well kept. Unselfish and present to nothing other than what a person needs, including myself, and what I am capable of doing. Seeking out fear and anxiety and extinguishing it as much as possible. Taking the energy  and re orchestrating it to something of comfort.

This is something that is a part of us we all hold dear. This is the place of the spiritual warfare of emotions fighting for life as a healed person. It is in the watery depth of blue. The blue of the great expansive sea and sky. The blue of voice and throat. The blue cloak of this world.  I can’t speak of it very clearly because it is still recovering its full use of functionality.

Sometimes this part of us gets destroyed, manipulated, used up.

The community of humans. Neighbors, families, schools, public places, work and religion, social media.  Environments destroy comfort. The way of peace and ease. The way of nurturing guidance and love for each other.

We as people are aware of this ability to create a better environment. Our internal human desire that is very natural and good. People constantly seeking to be of service. We are programmed it seems to do such things. A worthwhile programming. Natural to our core.

People are impacted if we are unable to be in the joy of being in service.

This painting came about when I was diving further into the symbol of the pearl I so often paint. Painting this there was freedom and movement in the story unfolding. The pearl rests gently in the medicine bag or treasure chest, the guide pointing to the heavens, the earth below and the source of reasons for being, as thought from above. It is sideways because that is how it started but I painted most of it turned once to the right.

Looking at it that way it looked to me like a mask or a skull. It communicated the connected ability of a person to play the part of a wise guide. It felt both male and female. A masculine Mother Mary figure. No separation of gender.  Just saintly blue robes of the deep blue. The sun of awakening and enlightenment alive and blazing forth from within them.

The green and yellow rising and feeling like the risen Kundalini, or life force energy, a golden crown of sun,  pointing the way up to the source of our connection. The teaching of  Kundalini and how to use the energy. The medicine bowl of knowledge between life and death as the effort to be alive in the world. To do what is truly loved.

There is a section in the yellow and green that feels as though it is being cut off. This part of the painting still intrigues me. I was trying to tell myself something there. The black and white and the butterfly. The shadow and lightness of a person and the butterfly of transformation shows up. There are skin tones and a shared story of masculine energy.

I thought of my deceased grandfather a lot painting this and other men I love that are similar in character. Similar in energetic make-up to do a lot in the world and to follow his own instructions.  It was as if he was there with me trying to teach me about how he had used it, what he could have done differently had he known what else to do.

There was consolation and transformation in telling the story and relating the regret and also the celebration of life.  It is the story of the use of ancestral energy, the alpha male energy of saintly abilities and drive to care for others, wanting to focus the attention of the great pearl that lives in communion with action.

That is what he wanted to be able to do, live through the teaching of this saintly treasure of a pearl in a medicine bag, even if he was mislead at times.

The actions out are transformed by time and space and here I am now on the earth as something similar and very different. A learned lesson and a heart of deepened grace by the love and support of the feminine patience and devotion. Somehow this all makes sense.

It feels like maybe the story of sacrifice itself in an effort to dedicate the energy to the higher realms of being. The compassionate giving of self to the earth. The fiery wings of living under the sun or maybe stained glass and a  church in the sky.

The gold and bronze of the painting pointing to the teachings of alchemy and the transformation of lesser parts of ourselves to our greater selves. The process of life and death on planet earth. I just try to keep up as my hands quickly try to tell me a story.

I have been told that some people don’t like to hear from the artist. It interrupts their interpretation and their experience. Sorry if that is the case. It all tends to say the same thing in a different way telling us things about ourselves and each other.

The words feel good when formed in an attempt to comprehend things that seem utterly impossible to do, and is relieving to share. The intense nature of our reality is overwhelming and takes much assistance to comprehend.

We are connected in ways that are unimaginable to many parts of ourselves. But at our core is the same understanding of a shared reality. A shared story that includes a trip of some kind for each of us, constantly, insanely fast and often furious.

The giving of emotion to emotion and creating a medicine bag of how to go from black and white to color. The ordered understanding of things to open limitless understanding. Let it free, let it move, let it follow it’s course.

The bronzed skin tones in the sun. The element of fire tending to the bones through inflammation. It is not a king or queen we worship – it is the medicine bag of the holy person of the cloth speaking of the pearl of humanity that the queen or king worships.

I write these things and it feels true. It feels like something that engulfed my head and my chest. It takes any toxins from my belly. But then I get somewhere else and think how strange it all is even though I know I sit with the same thing of antiquity and there is nothing else.

There was a trust in that mask burning with wisdom shared about what was in the medicine bag containing the pearl. The sacrificial namesake of inherited use of Kundalini energy and how it runs the world.  The innocence of a small child witnessing the wars of yesteryear.

Asleep no more  goes the dragon to the cave. Awaken little ones and witness yourself on the way.