To See Beauty

To see the canvas of life in its truest form is to see beauty in all its disfigured forms.

Many will question its possibility but look deep enough to see the perfections within the imperfections. We are all imperfectly perfect, flawed in many ways. Reflecting and projecting or seeing and believing.

Witness the shadows of self, others and traumas of ancient, passed down from generation to generation. How did we get here? Where did all our triggers of anger and fear begin? Dig a little deeper and witness ancestral passed or culminating truths, unfolding and unraveling as inaccuracies or ‘untruths.’

Reinventing truth or present reality, the Canvas of Life tells a new story. A story of beginning and end unfolding daily and flowing as it always has.

Our attachment to end goals or what is real or fantasy, trips us every time. What if we just observed and allowed our truth to present itself through every step as we kiss Mother Earth in peace and love?

See pain and suffering, witness miracles of the day, see from higher perspective and observe wholeness of Great Mystery.

Saturday Morning Visit

This is a picture of my little friend.

A month ago she was dying on our patio. Falling over with eyes crusted shut. Breath was short and life slipping away.

I asked Great Spirit what can be done. Great Spirit said “sit with her, comfort her.”
So I sat with her, listening to her shortened breath fading away. Unable to stand, falling over with every attempt. Then I heard a cry “I don’t want be alone.”

Couldn’t resist and scooped her up in my hands. Holding warmly next to my heart. I sang to her, reminding her of the songs she used to sing. Tears flowing as I sang her familiar tunes…spilling tears of love onto my dearest friend.

Her eyes opened, startled at love shared in a singular drop. Barely able to sing in harmony, she began gaining strength and spirit of song.

She sat up. Gazed deeply into my eyes. Ended her tune with an echoing joyous sound….and took flight.

Did not see her for a week. She joined me for coffee that following Saturday morning. With gratitude in her eyes, it transformed into gratitude placed upon my heart. Gratitude for life, friendship and joyous songs of life.

Every Saturday morning she visits me. Often sitting in front of our patio doors, but mostly sitting upon this hand painted rock…reminding me of present purpose.
Such gratitude for her song, her new breath and purpose for life. I am grateful for the days we share together watching her peck away at the cracks in our patio for mealy worms or other things.

Ani Po