How dark is it inside a cow’s stomach?
When I was little we summered at the cottage – a log cabin on top of a granite rock. When we would come home late in the evening from some event we would feel our way up the sloping granite, one footfall at a time, following the bouncing beam of a flashlight.
The whip-poor-wills and crickets would be raucous and the stars sparkling overhead. I would cling to my dad’s hand and he would declare: “It’s as dark as the inside of a cow’s stomach!” I used to think that was a riot – but I don’t just now.
It’s a quarter to three in the morning. Son #2 is watching Chinatown – his dad’s all time favourite movie. Son #1 is making ginger and lemon tea to soothe his strep throat. Last night they auditioned for a record label and will soon fulfill their heart’s desire as musicians. They are on their way. In exactly one month from now we won’t be chatting in the kitchen in the middle of the night – we won’t be here at all. Where we will be has yet to be determined.
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To be a Master of Life we must first know ourselves.
In esoteric teaching enlightenment is a goal attained. In my experience, mastery is like the horizon – always ahead of us as we gain new ground. However practical enlightenment is navigating this world of chaos and distraction armed with the map of our authentic Self.
Our true opportunity between birth and death – our first inhale and our last exhale – is to fulfill all that we might be. We are born with our unique blend of talents and traits, into a world of infinite flux and possibility. How do we reveal what is within us to attain the ultimate goal of Self –actualized? Read more…
How to take the good of Life’s lessons and dispose of the rest.
Yes, I’ve done this too – eaten the artichoke that is. I was nineteen at the time and in a very posh restaurant in Montreal. I was in university on the East coast and very attached to my boyfriend in Toronto. He was my first love and very handsome – like a young Michael Caine – actually Michael Caine was young then too. I would send soppy letters of longing home and he would respond with a carton of cigs and Ziggy Stardust album closing with the line: “Wish you were there” Read more…
