Bunny Bodhisattva; the Full Bony (Cold) Moon

The Legend of the Bunny Bodhisattva

Once upon a time, there was a girl...well truly she was a woman, nearing Crone...but her heart was of a child.  She traveled to a mythical land named Sedona as she heard a fancy tall tale about vortexes that healed and this girl...um...woman...was all about the quick fix.

Synchronicity placed her in the path of a trail guide named Akal.  He was knowledgeable and connected to the spirit world.  He guided her and then offered her a soul retrieval.  She was thrilled. Wow. Instant healing. Just add a smudge fan.

All fairy tale fodder aside, something did happen to her. A place in her head that was dusty and forgotten opened up and art poured out.  Goddess art at first. Female power art next.  And on and on.  A story formed in her head about a small bunny.  The bunny was her as a child.  She put this particular art aside; she knew that when it was begun it would consume her.  Two years later, in Sedona, she was guided to bring this story to life. It required her to put aside her previous livelihood and guilt mixed with exhilaration.  She worked fervently. She worked tirelessly.

A book was born.  Quirky and cute, her Bunny became real and she enjoyed its company.

But soon enough...well truly it was two years...the book was finished.

She found she wanted to share the story and the Bunny, but resistance was great to her goal.  And she works still to find this Bunny a voice...

But she knows this much...
The Bunny will show her how to grow...
The Bunny teaches patience...
The Bunny teaches persistence...
The Bunny teaches humility....
The Bunny teaches her to not react to criticism...even when it is family...
The Bunny will teach her how to pursue her joys without regret...

On a full moon, on Valentines Day, she realizes that besides her partner and daughter...she has the most eloquent of friend...a small Bunny born of the soul.

A Monk walks into a Starbucks...

Lazy defines you.  You know it is true; yet the man you share this journey with claims that to be rubbish.  But you know better. You know your heart.  You know that when you ask him if he'd like more wine, what you are really hoping for is for him to offer to get it. Lazy.

You know how to work, and do so when necessary. You don't complain, but you avoid it when there is a choice.  Well, that is all true except when it comes to your artwork.  There you strive, and falter, perfect, and over manipulate. There you do your penance.  There you persist until it takes form.  It really is ART WORK.  Not ART accident or ART almost what you wanted.  No. Here you are a perfectionist.

But back to being lazy...
You surprise yourself by going out to Starbucks for you and him while he sleeps.  This surprises you on many levels.
1.  You are up before him.
2.  You aren't worried about your funky bedhead hair.
3.  You aren't worried about driving the rental car.
4.  You are UP before HIM.

You drive a bit sleepy-eyed the whole quarter of a mile that Starbucks is from the room.  You berate yourself for not walking, but Hey...you are doing this at all.  You feel some sense of selflessness.  He will be pleasantly surprised and this pleases you.  Perhaps you aren't selfless at all.  Just not lazy.  Just this once. Not lazy.  You smile.

But then you enter the Starbucks and the female Monk from the Stupa is there buying coffee.  You look down, avoid eye contact.  You feel a desire to thank her for yesterday balanced with a need to turn and run.  You briefly wonder what she is doing there.  You feel she shouldn't drink coffee, least of all Starbucks.  She should be purer than you. Better than you.  After all, she has spiritual meat.  Not just bones.  She should be something....MORE...

But she is just human.  Well, just human, but also, not lazy.

But you aren't lazy this morning either.  You nod to her on your way out.

Intuitive Super Oneness; Waxing Bony (cold) Moon

Author note: the moon names I refer to are typically from the Farmer's almanac, which slants towards a north eastern view of Indian and early settler life.  This moon name, The Bony Moon, is Cherokee and is in many ways an accurate depiction of my current spirituality. The name is a reflection of starvation; the native people's utter desperation for sustenance requiring ingestion of boiled bones...bone marrow soup.  A hard diet, but life sustaining. 

You have come to Sedona like a neighbor trying to steal a Wifi signal from next door.  Try the stairs?  Signal too weak.  Try the upstairs office?  Close.  Try the empty closet in your daughter's room?  So close...so close...

You have a notion that the Universe will speak to you and guide you if you can get a signal.  You expect this like a petulant child and grow ever anxious by the day.  Where is the sign?  Where is the path?

You seek the Universe's sign on. Choose a network.  Where is it?  It isn't listed...so fly to Sedona. The Universe hub. The modem. All will be solved. Watch your inbox. Check your mail at gmail or aol or yahoo or one of your so many pseudonyms.  Dear Universe, Instructions, please. ASAP. When silence is the answer, assume it is the connection.

But once a signal thief, always a thief...Seek the universe at one of the many drive-by locations.  Bell formation, Cathedral rock, or the Chapel. Before you know it, you've walked smack into a Buddhist prayer service at the Amitabha Stupa in Sedona.  You understand it is some kind of service but you assume you belong.   So you sit and quietly meditate.  Please, oh, please, Universe, tell me what to do!

The folks around you are chanting to a drum. It is beautiful and moving and you feel lucky to have come at this moment.  But more people arrive and block your stealthy egress. Panic sets in. How long will this service last?  And you begin to know you don't belong. Yet, when something like Communion occurs, the Monk offers you their blessings in the form of what appears to be water and cake.  You politely decline, feeling out of pace, feeling shame because it finally occurs to you that no one gets free answers.  Something offered free loses it's value.  And you know that you will restart your spiritual practice with the meatless bones that you lazily discarded.  You will make soup.  You are good at soup.  The broth will sustain you until you find your own answers.

And you acknowledge the truth that you purposefully ignored...there is no Intuitive Super Oneness. It requires work; and fortunately, you are no stranger to it.

And if the Universe feels like sending you a sign, you will welcome it.