Become a Follower of the Big Dude!

Meet the divine Dude in this blog. This Dude has had and seen his share of sacred shit. He's not afraid of it or of its language. I can't relate to a god that's been crucified, but I can relate to one whom my government has imprisoned and humiliated. I can relate to one who's been raped by his own holy men. I can relate to one who grew up playing baseball or soccer and who dated the Prom Queen. I can relate to the god who knows the working of corporate conglomerates, pimps, and teen-age girls who are pregnant. I can relate to the god who loves alcoholics and drug addicts just a tad more than wall street hotshots or so-called holy men who abuse little boys. This Dude thinks all of us are mortal particles in an ocean of sacred shit. This Dude recycles.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

The "Gift" of Sleep

My question to Cara, the higher self, this morning was: Speak to me of sleep. After several fitful nights, I don't find myself spiritually inclined. I want to read a good book and drift away the day. Alas, the day is filled with activities

Sitting in my white wicker rocker with my legs crossed in my aging version of a meditation pose, I still my mind and watch the wind move leaves and even trees around as it will. I remember that my meditation coach suggested each of us create a sanctuary and I know at once that nature is and has always been my sanctuary. And so I continue watching for signs of the wind through my living room sliders.

Cara says, "Sleep is a gift from the gods and a mystery to the ego."

I feel relief. When sleepless, I am inclined to feel at fault as though with more effort, I could make it happen. I need to ask the gods for sleep as I would for anything else when desperate. Not my fault. Not my fault, I whisper joyfully.

But Cara's not finished; she speaks again, "Sleeplessness may also be a gift." Hmmm. I don't always like the higher self OR the gods. But, so it is. Anne
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