We're
still in a "stuff is going on behind the scenes" period so don't freak
out that everything isn't clicking together quite yet - there is a lot
happening that we all can't see and it's all for our benefit. Want it
all to show up faster? Spend time now enjoying yourself! That speeds up
the "good" coming in!
*****
This sleeplessness is a sickness... which turns into sleepiness and the soul continues to trail behind everyone else.
I
just began to listen to Coke Studio Season 6. Oh, if my life was
different, I could at least be a backing singer for Atif's Channa. My
God, chaa gaye again.
http://youtu.be/Se3YjfBCVbQ
Well,
at least my prayer to find new music to stir my soul into action has
been answered. Thank You, Allah. Seriously. You know how music is an
integral part of my life.
Atif Aslam also
got married last year and recently had a son. This is all news to me.
After all, I've been under a rock for thirty odd years. It saddens me
that my life distances me from all of this. I had prayed so hard to
somehow meet him when I was in Pakistan. Now I understand how could I,
he was busy becoming a father. I've lost out on so many things, all in
order to gain a soul and a heart that is filled with the love for Allah.
Once that happens, then all this celebrity and fame, I won't really
care.
But until then, my ego cares. I saw what I did to myself in Pakistan.
We
don't really love them, we love the shadows they portray us. If we were
channelling fully and training in the arts and expressing our inner
essence in totality, they would not feel somehow above us, or somehow
better than us. They would honour our light just as much as we honour
theirs. We would hear the cheering wherever we walked, rather than dote
over someone else who found their own unique channel.
The
decent, humble teachers constantly remind themselves that it's a group
effort, and that they are nothing in their identity. That it only for
the grace of God that they are who they are.
The arrogant ones, like myself, are then forced to fall.
The light dims from my eyes,
the rust congeals upon my heart,
my soul is in agony,
and the simplest of things...
are difficult to create, to bring into existence.
All of this is done with Love.
Your heart is so precious to me,
I cannot let you regress or retard...
I doubt this Allah.
I have perpetuated a cycle of self abuse, violence, deprivation, stagnation, blindness and ignorance.
Not
only am I disconnected from the purity and the life that is the true
core of Islam, I am disconnected from myself and from the outer world.
It is a full moon and I am least bothered about going outside to meditate.
I
am encaged, whereas others travel without a royal butt kicking, take
the healing courses they need to take - such as ENLP and Sidra's course
and Divine healing and Soul Plan Reading and
My
heart really wants to go into music and singing, learning the piano or
violin - is it too late, not really. But all I find myself are in
strings and chains.
For the most part, all of my dreams seem to be just dreams...
The
full moon is in 12 or so hours and I'm meant to be doing releasing and
allowing. That's what we do, consciously. I just can't see, to want to
do anything, just so tired and cannot concentrate. Maybe that is the
releasing.
******
An hour later.
Wow,
I was listening to Paimanah Bideh by Zeb and Haniya, and wanted to post
on Facebook to honour my shedding of the last remnants for the full
moon. Suddenly have a craving to be seen. Very full moon like behaviour
:p
Then this flowed through.
WOW.
In
honour of the full moon in Capricorn (tomorrow, 1pm - ish BST), which
is about healing and honouring the divine feminine. I love how I've been
doing it without realising I was doing it, hahaha.
I
honour my inner divine goddess and the inner romantic urges... I allow
my emotions to wax like the ocean's tides, I heal those parts that are
still festering, and I melt those frozen parts of my heart. I clear all
contracts, pacts, karma, beliefs that keep me and anyone else stuck and
unable to move and progress and expand. I unleash my creativity and my
gifts and talents, for music, for dance, for expression. I remain silent
and allowing, and nurture those aspects which need it.
Innocently enough, it began.
A gentle hum
of sweet innocent kinship
My light shimmers in your eyes,
because I reflect your brilliance in my smile.
You fear I will devour you entirely,
and I fear that I shall lose myself and
succumb to your charms.
We both say we love God,
yet we both know our lips betray our true intent.
We lie.
We feel ashamed at our weakness,
that we have made each other our god,
and the cravings increase with each nuance, each sigh,
each healing glance,
each murmur in the throat,
each careful caress of the pliant hand.
This tenderness will be my death.
I try to run away from it,
leaving my sandals at the tombs of the saints
resting upon the bloodied, purified sands.
I cannot hide,
the people on the streets can smell
the scent of my devotion a mile away.
The smoke of ardour is hardly ever hidden well.
"There goes the crazy one,
She has lost her senses.
She glides upon the earth,
we cannot see her footprints anywhere.
She stands in the sun,
yet casts no shadow upon the earth.
The junoon has her fermenting all over.
This young, shy, naive grape
is fermenting.
She is becoming wine,
a deep ruby red,
in just a fleeting instant of being
crushed under Love’s feet.
She has now become intoxicated
with her own image of beauty,
charm, tenderness, endless peace and tranquillity.
Let us go near and drink of her nectar.
Let us become immortal within her lilac flame.
Let us become divine just by gazing upon her
as she gazes at the stars in the dark, still nights.”
When you run too far from the beloved,
the beloved becomes tired of chasing after you.
It is easier to love someone who
knows how to receive it.
The mirrors all shatter,
and distort the truth for even more lies.
And, years after a continuous falling back asleep and being
shaken awake, until the veins bleed,
the chosen woman finally understands
that the divine is a benevolent, yet jealous benefactor.
Anything that takes her away from Him
is seized without warning,
leaving a trail of regret, harsh words,
unforgiveness,
and unfulfilled vows.
She prostrates upon the dust.
She becomes dust,
crushed under the weight
of aeons of solitude and confusion
until, finally, she looks up and
instead of crying tears of blood
her vision has been cleared with saltwater
and everywhere,
she can see the One who needs no one but Himself to sustain the All.
The forms change, their essence remains.
Slowly, slowly, her heart opens again
and the Beloved is her, her saviour is within her -
and they are magnetically drawn to her once again.
Yet, this time, it matters not what they do.
The repeated patterns are evident, amusing,
both those of hers and those of the Other.
As long as she reminds herself to remain true
to herself and her Lord,
she will remain safe from further humiliation.
She may have to pinch herself every day
to remind herself.
Yet, her battered feet have travelled upon shards of rock,
her skin has been ravaged by the desert winds
far too long
for her to now forget Who She Is
and revert to her former state.
Her gift to them is the knack to love with a sincere
o p e n n e s s
that is also her very protection
To be loved sincerely and truly in return,
with them seeing her as her truth.
This is God’s grace.
To demonstrate the profound good opinion God has of you,
to reflect His deep, soft, undulating
sweetness,
so that your curled bud may
unfurl into its full glory.
“We have written it all in a Manifest book”.
Yet, she is the Book, the writer and the reader.
As is each of us.
A mirror has mirrors too.
When everyone remembers
they are their unique version of the light,
and each of very high value,
how can any sense of inferiority or superiority exist?
Open your palms to receive your own light through this vessel.
Let the words scrawled upon the page refresh your eyes,
so you may see....
And although she grieved,
those she lost came back to her in different forms.
All the more dear.
For their worth has been realised, as has her own worth.
And, this time, We remind ourselves
We do not gamble or trade the love of our Beloved,
for mere trinkets any longer: a glass of wine,
a life of companionship and mercy,
many a whispered word of tenderness,
respectability,
conformity,
functionality...
Be the state you wish to feel.
Be Love, then you will experience it.
Be Peace, then you will exude it,
causing their eyes to water at the sweetness
of willow,
of honeysuckle.
Be the healer,
the vessel, the channel:
then you will understand
your true worth.
~ Sukaynah Juma, 11 July 2014
WOW.
