NOW is the time for a Red Winged Blackbird

It’s Monday morning. Need to get some errands done and then back to writing ala book.

But a red-winged blackbird, an immature one, was on my birdfeeder just now. This is a first. They’re usually found near wetlands and must be migrating through. The word must be out in the birdwaves that my feeders are operating and full. So, Come on down…! There’s a birdfeeder here on the west side of Baltimore serving up fresh seed! No coffee, no stimulants, just good ‘ole black sunflower seeds.

Woke up this morning thinking about time. About how time is an artificial construct of our blue-green planet the circles the sun and gives us night and day. And we’ve carved the illusory construct of hours and minutes into this amazing phenomenon of living on a planet that gives us life and daytime and nighttime.

Yet, time is a dimension, so the scientists tell us. And it can be bent and traveled through and ignored, maybe? Not really sure that it can be ignored, but I like the concept a lot. But in essence the vast truth that we give time in our tick-tock dominant worldview is really not true. We’ve made it up to provide a sense of measurement and accomplishment tied to measurement that gives us a sense of well-being. Or sometimes (bad pun!) it’s simply a means of gathering enough crops in to have food on the table, period (ugh, another bad pun!), in the strictest sense of survival — still bound by time, before the sun sets.

I would like to bend time to create more. More to write. More to sleep. More to read. More to garden. Ah, yes. And more to spend with good friends, soulmates etc.

One morning several years ago I was doing a favor for my Cherokee teacher, some project that had to be done that day. And I swear that time warped and I had an additional two hours that morning. It was really amazing all that I accomplished in the space of that morning and it was still morning when I finished. I asked my teacher about it and she said that, yes, occasionally Earth Mother does allow people to experience this if it is right. I did not ask for it. But I needed it. And I guess since it was not about me or for me but for my teacher, I was blessed with it. I was gifted with it that day. (Not something I could patent or package or sell. Thank God.)

So, this morning, when I woke up and started writing in my journal, I was musing on the amazing challenge of being in the NOW and feeling BLISS/ONENESS —WHATEVERNESS  in the NOW. And how, since time is an illusion, if we can really learn to live in the NOW from a deeply heart centered connected place, then perhaps that NOW moment really is forever anyway.

Of course, I’m still mostly stuck in the tick-tock sense of minutes, hours, days, and thus when that momentary BLISS in the NOW has slipped down the bead strand of another ‘now’ when my mind is starting to worry about this and that, then I feel I’ve lost it. Gone. But maybe that’s not true. I can reach back for that one bead of NOW, and pull it forward again.

Just as I can pull back into the purview of my memory of that red-winged blackbird on my birdfeeder from this morning and know that it is still here, energetically gracing my porch on this fine sunny Monday morning in February.

About Mare Cromwell

Referred to as “The Voice of Earth Mother” by a gifted Shoshone elder, Mare Cromwell is a multi-award-winning author, Medicine woman/Lightworker and healer. She has also been told by another gifted elder that her work with Earth Mother is in the prophecies. Her books include: "The Great Mother Bible"; "Messages from Mother.... Earth Mother"; and "If I gave you God’s phone number.... Searching for Spirituality in America". She has studied with Native American teachers for twenty-one years and sat on the World Council for Wisdom Gatherings for three years. Mare leads workshops on our Sacred Planet-Earth Mother, Womb Wisdom and Sacred Silliness and more. She is the visionary and producer of the 1000 Goddesses Gathering in Washington DC. Mare loves to be involved in Ceremony. She is also a former worm herder. She calls Western Maryland home. www.marecromwell.com
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