Maracas

Photo Copyright © 2009, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

Her Majesty

Photo Copyright © 2009, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

Taco

Waves in the Sea of Possibilities

by White Feather

Somewhere there is a drama playing out as a result of actions one took in the past. While one may be far from the ensuing drama one is connected to it thanks to the energy one put into it long ago. Somewhere a story comes together that is partially written by you even though you are not there and not even aware of the story. But our role in the creation of the story ties us to it and allows us access if we choose to connect.

Likewise, our actions today create the basis for stories to be played out whether or not we are around to witness those stories as they unfold in the future. We tend not to think of these possibilities but to become aware of the possibilities our actions create, we see a broader view of our actions and we can change our actions with this in mind. Every change of action creates a whole new field of possibilities upon which stories will be written. Our lives are like a boat flowing through the sea of possibilities leaving a wake that flows out over the sea affecting more than we are aware of since our attention is up ahead in the boat. As our boat continues flowing through the sea, changing course over time we eventually come across the wakes we left behind and see the stories built on the energy we left behind.

As we live we create waves. These waves travel the sea of possibilities as do we. It is inevitable that we come across the results of the waves we create. Waves go out in all directions so we can come across these waves in the past, present, or future. And when we do, we come across one part of the wave while the rest of the wave spreads outward without us experiencing it directly. To experience the totality of the wave we must become the wave. To experience all of a wave can take several lifetimes and many focuses within the sea of possibilities.

Every wave eventually subsides into the sea yet each new action creates another wave. Thus we are constantly creating new stories that come to life, with or without us, somewhere in the All That Is. Being aware of our actions in this way we can imbue them with as much unconditional love as possible and thereby change the world.

Copyright © 2009 by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

Mountains and Valleys

by White Feather

All it takes is a turn of the head away from all the old stuff and you're on your way into a new reality. That last look back is sentimental and it is a way of acknowledging your journey. But you're at a pivotal point in your journey when you're about to cross the mountains and then there will be no more looking back. The valley you just crossed is about to be history and you're about to head into a whole new valley. Before, you couldn't see above the mountains into the next valley and soon you're about to be in a new valley from which you can no longer see back into the old valley.

There is a point as you are about to cross the mountain pass into the new valley when you turn back and look at where you've been. It is a moment of intense pleasure as the memories all rise to the surface. It is a moment of sadness as you are about to release it all. And it is a moment of intense excitement as you are about to face a whole new valley, a whole new reality. It's one of the grandest moments we experience--and we've experienced it time and time again. For that moment we are filled with every emotion and feeling and we feel like we're about to burst. It's so intense we're almost afraid to reach that moment, that pinnacle of experience. But the fear always gives way, eventually, because we can't help but move forward. The fear and sadness always turns into joy--just as all emotions do. All the emotions eventually turn into feelings and that's when we enter the new realms. Feelings keep us moving forward. Feelings take us home and home is ever changing. Home is where our Self is. Our Self is where the universe is and the universe is our home. It's the grandest home we've ever created and it includes All That Is. We've been journeying to experience all the parts of All That Is. Every part takes us home. Every valley and every mountain pass are fixtures in our home. To feel at home we must overcome the emotions and enter the feelings for they are what bring us home. They are what show us our home. They are what connect us to that which we create. They are the raw material we create from. Those feelings are us.traveling through our creation. Emotions are the sticky goo we get stuck in--temporarily--along the way.

Copyright © 2008, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

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Writer On Foot Getting Bread
A publication of the writings of White Feather

Pumpkin

Photo Copyright © 2008, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

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Stories and Veils

by White Feather

Through the veils of time there are so many interconnected stories going on. There is no lack of drama. If we could pierce the veils and look all around us in a circle we would see a landscape resplendent with stories.

Sometimes we pretend to get bored with stories. But then we keep playing them over and over. We like to add some new twist but it the same story.

And at the core of every story there is love. Every story has love written in it somewhere.

Love is how we write stories. It's how we express the love that is slowly filling us.

We are actors in the greatest drama ever played out in the universe. We are at center stage. We are living the story and making it real.Allowing a story to flow through us we can choose to embrace it and give it our life. The story is immediately different. The stories are ever changing. They just take on new perspectives. How many different ways can we write, express, and live a story? Are we driven to experience every way possible? As the stories flow through us how do we flow through the story? Do we dance with our stories? Do we live them so intensely as to forever burn them onto the universe? How many stories do we ignore and repress? How many of our stories are truly finished? Are we satisfied awaiting a new version? Can we truly write a new story? Or is every story a different version of only one story? If so, it must be a whopper of a story.

If only we could sit in stillness and drop all the veils surrounding us. Then we can see all the stories and put an ending on them. We could clear the slate and begin writing our next stories. We could write new stories without veils, stories that connect us to all the love of the universe immediately. We could start living stories that are far better than anything we can imagine.

Copyright © 2008, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

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Park Bench Mojo

Window

Photo Copyright © 2008, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

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Nebraska POW Camps

Underwater Boy

by White Feather

How hard is it to open up the door? It's a simple action, or so it seems. You turn the doorknob and pull the door open. If it's a solid door you can't see outside of it and you don't know what you'll be greeted with once you open the door. Do the possibilities on the other side of the door put you into fear? Does it keep you from opening the door?

Once there was a little boy who woke up in the middle of the night. He got up out of bed and walked through the house as the rest of his family slept. The boy was wide awake and wanted to play but did not want to awaken the family. As he tiptoed through the house he could find nothing that interested him. Eventually he came to the front door of the house.

As quietly as he could, he opened the front door, stepped through onto the porch, and closed the door behind him. He walked across the porch and then down the steps onto the front lawn. Still in his pajamas, he felt a brief chill but it did not slow him down. He walked across the lawn towards the lake. He looked up at the moon which was very full and very bright. It lit the way for the boy to walk slowly across the grass towards the lake which reflected the moon's glow on the surface of its waters.

Finally, the boy made it to the very edge of the water. He stood there for quite some time just looking out over the water and at the moon above. It looked so differently than when he saw it routinely during the day. The water seemed so black except where it reflected the moon. The trees and landscape surrounding the lake seemed to disappear except in silhouette. He could hear the waves lapping up onto the shore where he stood. He could suddenly feel the energy of the entire lake.

He wanted to enter the lake and behold its mysteries but he also wanted to ride the surface of the lake but he had no boat. The boats were all at the marina a long way down the shore.

The boy also wanted to fly over the lake's surface like a bird. He was overcome with many desires and felt pulled energetically by the lake to somehow experience it in a new and profound way.

The boy stood transfixed, not knowing what to do. He heard sounds. There were the night frogs and the night owls and the sound of the waves lapping up on the shore where he stood. He was no longer cold and the very slight night breeze now felt good. It seemed to coax him onward.

It was a good feeling knowing that all the people around the lake were asleep and that he was the only one standing by the lake and feelings its dark presence. The boy forgot all about his family and the house he lived in. He forgot about the neighbors who lived along the edge of the lake. He forgot about the boats and about anything human.

The boy looked into the lake and it was like looking into a mirror. Sure, the moon was reflected on the surface of the lake but as the boy looked deeper into the lake he entered a new dimension of feeling. He could feel his life in that lake. He could feel all the life in that lake. He could suddenly hear new sounds that he had never heard before while gazing at the lake. It seemed that beneath the surface of the lake there was a different reality that was much like what he experienced each night in his dreams.

Like with his dreams, he had to let go of all waking consciousness to enter that world. That's how he felt as he looked out over the lake and felt that world beneath its waters. But how does one enter that world?

The boy was suddenly saddened that he could not enter that world. He could not find a way to enter it. So he sat down on the shore and just watched the surface of the lake ripple. Perhaps he could enter through that rippling surface with his mind. And then he could swim with the fishes and explore that world without the need to breathe. If only he could breach the surface.

The surface of the lake was suddenly like the front door of the house in which he lived. If only he could silently turn the doorknob and slip out without anyone knowing it then he would be free to immerse himself in a world outside the confines he found himself in. Could he enter the lake with his mind without making a splash? Without anyone hearing him?

As soon as he thought that he found himself under the the water's surface moving silently through the water. He was neither cold nor hot. He propelled himself with no exertion on his part. He simply thought of moving forward and so he did. He could see and realized the moon lit up this world, too. He could breathe and there was no struggle whatsoever. He just silently moved through the water and explored.

There were some fish, though not many. The bottom of the lake was littered with debris. This saddened the boy. It looked like a junk yard. But as he moved out further towards the middle of the lake the junk thinned out and there were rocks and water plants and more fish. He loved how the moonlight cascaded down through the water. He loved the shadows that played on the lake's bottom.

The boy swam and swam until he had explored the entire lake.He then looked up at the surface from down below. From below the surface was now suddenly the same as it was from above. It was like a door he must go through to re-enter the world he lived in. At first, he was apprehensive about going up and breaking through the surface back into the other world. But slowly he realized that he had to go back through that door and that he would then have to go back through that other door back into his home.

After leaving the water the boy stopped on the shore and turned around to look at the lake some more. He felt so thoroughly invigorated and alive and happy. He felt like he had found a new world and he felt like he belonged in that new world. He didn't want to go home but eventually he turned around and began walking back to the house. He walked very slowly. When he got to the porch of the house he slowly walked up the steps and then turned around to look at the lake one more time.

To his surprise the lake was no longer there! This startled the boy. He looked around. The moon was still in the sky and the trees were still in the yard and the grass he had walked upon back from the lake was still there. But the lake was gone! This briefly saddened the boy but then he closed his eyes and felt himself swimming under the surface of the lake one more time. His body tingled all over and he realized the lake was still there inside him. He then opened his eyes and walked to the front door of his home. He hesitated a moment before turning the doorknob and entering. Slowly and quietly he entered the house and closed the door behind him. He felt his pajamas and realized that they were very dry. Making his way quietly to his room he got back into bed but it was quite some time before he could fall back asleep. He kept replaying his experience over and over. He was afraid that if he were to fall asleep he would lose it forever.

Although he finally fell back asleep he never lost the experience.

Copyright © 2008, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

Somatic Descent: Experiencing the Ultimate Intelligence of the Body