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I’m swimming up through foaming waters into awareness, dimly registering that my phone alarm is singing away in the kitchen.  I shuffle sleepily through the house but shift directly into alertness the moment my bare feet touch damp earth.  The sea is quiet, Mercury and Venus lifting above the horizon, Sun on its way.  A magpie trills and little birds are chatting, and when I thoughtlessly flick on the light in the shed, the rooster sends out an eager crow. I switch it off and light a candle, focus my prayers, calling to the realms.

I am bringing light to the vineyard, magnetizing the air, raising the vibration. I’ve felt a heaviness here since my return.  The work has been sluggish.  Progress on every front has been lethargic at best, but mostly halting, excruciating, blocked.  Weeds press in from all directions.  Clarity has fled.  I know the outer reflects the inner and so this practice works on me as well.

I swirl the 501, carrying an embodiment of mantra, of dream, of light.  And for moments I am able to bypass my chattering mind, to be with the essence of the now awakening world.  This for all sentient beings!  This for Veritas!  This for the ancestral dream made manifest!  I carry all of this into the vineyard.

The earth is exhaling.  The winds are yet to stir.  The vines stretch skyward drenched in dew, gossamer webs shimmer in yellow rose light.  Shoots and tendrils reach for me as I move through expectant plants.  I am soaked in mist.  I’m respiring various nectars of peppie flowers and wet earth and moldering weeds and I’m feeling everything.  And as the sun hits, little rainbows sparkle and drift off into patches of vineyard.  Bursts of Light shimmer across creation and I swim with them out into the sunlit world.

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