No more…

By: Aliana Alani ©2017

You will forgive me if I say – no more.
Forgive me, perhaps, as I turn away
From this game you seem unable, or unwilling,
To leave behind.

I have stood watch over your thirst for conquest.
Soothed your wounds of battle with my tears.
Mourned your spirits passing, bodies left in the cold of dark.

Many times the heavens turned, showering love
Like fertile seeds within the winds of sorrow
Upon the fields of story – your story
That you seem unable, or unwilling, to leave behind.

Many times did you drink from their cup gladly,
Relishing the moment, healing, even gratefully,
Only then to forget, yes again.

I have come more times than you can possibly imagine
To speak for love instead of hate
To light the way for gentler tomorrows,
And still it continues.

So you will forgive me, perhaps,
If I say – no more.

No more will I lament your passing nor watch
Sweet souls tumble to a blood-strewn earth.
No more will I bury your bones within the stars of light
That you may come to your senses and remember.

This game of war is yours and yours alone.
The courage to peace, to change, lives within.
It has always been thus, but this time it is up to you.
For next time, beloveds, you will be on your own.

You will forgive me, perhaps.
I will not come again.

single-red-rose-3

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Quotes to ponder … a new page

I’ve just put up a new page called, Quotes to Ponder. galaxy and stars

Every month, I’ll be posting new quotes, adding or taking down some, and then at the end of month, changing it all.

It is my hope that midst all of them, you will discover some gem that inspires you, encourages you, and then helps contribute to a more thoughtful, loving, and compassionate life for you and those around you.

Check it out from time to time. It’s there for you.

 

Happy January 2017

Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll be changing a few things around at 22shangrila – taking down pages, putting new ones up. Consider it a bit of ‘de-cluttering’ for the New Year.

There will be a page called, WHAT’S NEW, which will mostly be about what’s currently available to buy, with a few added ‘bits’. This way you’ll be able to check it out at your leisure rather than having to scroll down on the main section to find things.

And there will be a page entitled, THOUGHTS FOR THE MONTH. You may find a quote there or something longer. Hopefully it will in some way inspire you and touch your heart. Because we are almost at the end of January (hard to believe, I know), it will begin February 1st, the Celtic New Year.

I’ll also be changing the POETRY page periodically. Mostly you see new postings of poetry in the main section, and that will continue. But from time to time, I will scoop one of them up and tuck it into the Poetry Page. Do go and take a peek now and then. I hope you enjoy them.

I also hope you’ll stay with me as we walk these challenging times together. The year 2017 promises to be a year of opportunity, but it is opportunity cast within a swirl of chaos. Chaos, as you may remember, can be diva drama at its best. As such, it loves to pull you in and hold you in its sway. It wants you to believe it is the only game in town. It needs that to succeed. However, if your desire is for peace and harmony, a growing serenity within, a life of kindness and caring for yourself and your world, this year will be your chance to truly live that desire.

Meditate. Find the stillness within. Look beyond the illusion. Stand true to your core knowing in your heart of hearts. Be kind. Be caring. Share your gifts and talents generously. Laugh in small giggles and big HAHAs. Let people know how beautiful they are – because they are. Daily tend your garden of life that it may flourish and grow. And above all – LOVE.

 

Love is the answer. Always has been. Always will be.

lotus flower

I cry…

I CRY…
By Aliana Alani ©2016

I cry for you, Italy.
I cry for us all.

And midst the flowing tears,
A seed is born, glowing.

A single note sung in three-part harmony.
A call of love – Amore.

It rides salty waves like a fearless warrior
that it might find fertile ground
within the folds of tomorrow.

 

Happy Easter

Digital Camera

 

 

 

For those of you who mark this time of year, HAPPY EASTER!

 

May the true spirit of Easter touch your hearts and awake your souls to the magnificence of who you truly are – and in that knowing, may you come to each day with the offering of kindness, love, and compassion – remembering that each and every one of us is on a journey to the heart of awakening. 

The Boogeyman

©Aliana Alani 2016

  Light Within The Darkness              EVERY STORY HAS A BOOGEYMAN, that nasty force that shows up when you least expect it, peeking through the shadows of the deep forest of your awareness (often called, your inner world). Sometimes there are even two or three, dancing around like toothless vultures in the wind. They delight in tantalizing, teasing, even terrorising. They look for the chinks in your armour, the cracks in your heart, and the storm clouds inside your mind. They eagerly sup on the doubts that linger and the anxieties that grow within you. They are especially fond of fear.

FEAR IS FOOD TO THE BOOGEYMAN, its own perverse, somewhat inverted, life force. It takes what you have so it can grow. It thrives on destruction. It likes things that fall away. Consequently it quite enjoys watching as you, and all that you might value, begin to crumble before its very eyes. It likes this even more than it does seeing you tremble – trembling being an example of escalating fear.

AT ITS FINEST, THE BOOGEYMAN becomes the quintessential vampire of the story, merrily sucking the energy out of existence. By the time you become aware of the extent of its intent, you are apt to find yourself fast-forwarding into that blackness commonly called, the void. You will, of course, emerge again. But that will be at a later date and possibly with fragments of the last journey embedded in your psyche.

IF YOU ARE ON THE ROAD to enlightenment, you are guaranteed to encounter The Boogeyman many times over in many ways and many forms. After all, it comes with the territory. All part of the journey, as the mystics might say. Are you told that when you start along its path? Probably not.

ENLIGHTENMENT, AND THE ROAD TO IT, requires a single-minded focus; a bit like candle gazing for the soul. No matter what is thrown at you, what changes in the script or bumps in the road, your mandate is to gaze upon the eternal light of creation and the heart of love. That and the peeling of the proverbial onionskin of your psyche are the skills necessary for that quantum leap that will, at some point, be required – that moment when you cannon-ball into another level of awareness and find yourself smack dab in the middle of all that is. Bank on it. Nothing less can prepare you adequately enough. It is like the hero’s journey. You must prove yourself worthy. How do you do that? By facing the darkness within as it manifests without. You must know who you really are. If you are to claim the Golden Cup of Enlightenment and drink of its endless blessings, you must ultimately see The Boogeyman for what it truly is – a plethora of smoke & mirrors, dust in the wind, illusion’s folly.

IF THE WORLD STORY YOU ARE a part of is also on the road to Enlightenment (and this one is), then expect a sometimes bumpy road. It won’t last forever, but it might seem like it at times. When the tempest swirls, and The Boogeyman’s roster of weapons dash and dive all around, there may be moments when you feel swamped in an overwhelming sadness, as though it is all pulling the very skin from your soul. It isn’t, but it may feel like that.

REMEMBER THIS – you don’t fight The Boogeyman by playing its game. If it dances devastation in front of you, you don’t win by creating more. If it surround-sounds you with neon images that say ‘fear me’, that is precisely the time that you do not fear. You be fearless. You stare at your own shadow. You turn around. No matter how destructive things appear to be, you see beyond. You see beyond.

YOU LOVE IN THE MIDST OF IT ALL. You laugh. You share hope and kindness and understanding, because that is the realm of love, and that is the way to the middle of all that is. You be who you truly are. You hold to that. You hold.  And sooner that you think, the fears within you will abate, the smoke around you will begin to dissolve, the dust will settle, and your world will come into a place of balance and harmony once again.

YOU BE WHO YOU TRULY ARE. You be the love. You hold to that. You hold.

 

For many of us…

 
For many of us in this world, the time of Christmas is close at hand. It is a time of celebration, a time of remembering, a time of gratitude, and a time of family. Within its spiritual story is the journey of a young couple searching for a safe place to rest; a place to birth a child who would later prove to be, for many, a messiah.

Finding no room at the inn, so we are told, wherever they went, they ended up in a stable where the child ultimately was born.

The flight from one place to another is not unique. As a species, we have been migrating for as long as history can tell us, probably even longer. We move for many reasons, but much of the time we move because where we presently are is no longer a safe place to be.

Like Mary and Joseph, we flee for a better safer land.

As we prepare to gather our families around us, to decorate and light the Christmas tree, to sing cherished carols, and honour a special time, let us ponder this – Let us not be the ones who punish the innocent because of the atrocities of a few.  Let us not be the ones who say – there is no room at the inn.

This I know…

THIS I KNOW…  

©Aliana Alani 2015

As we search for wings we once had,
Trudging along dust-filled roads,
Hoping for rose petals in unlikely places,

As we scan pristine skies for long-needed rain,
Picking the bones of ancestors,
Sweeping the streets clean of the tears of hunger and war,

As we dare to dream or desire,
To rise up or to care,

It comes to this –

There is only room for love now.
We only have room for love.

ARE YOU NOT TIRED?

white rose

            ©Aliana Alani 2015     

Unlike many of my writings here, this is more Dylan Thomas than Rumi – but there are things that must be said, words that must be spoken.  

  

I

Are you not tired of battle? I am.

This constant feeding on the life force of others
Till even young bones dry and crumble into dust
And winds lament their passing like banshee cries across the lands.
To what end? For what purpose?

Think you immortality lies within the reach of those
Who trample o’er the souls of others? If so, think again.
Or has this thirst turned so insatiable that friend and foe alike
Become but mere morsels for the next feed?

When is enough, enough?

It matters not what name you give this.
What righteous path you cast its fate along.
Light or dark, it is all the same.
Devoid of love, we are all nothing!

Can you not understand?

II

You plant your flag within the halls of Mount Olympus
Expecting adulation in return. To you, it is but one of many.
But you forget. You lack remembrance.
Therein, perhaps, lies your folly.

So let me help. Let me be blunt.

There are gods and angels who walk amongst the living
Cloaked in skins of a mortal kind. Some appear tattered,
Even wounded, for the journey has been long, nay even arduous.
Still they are present, perhaps, yes even especially, in those very halls
And they are not happy.
They wait, but not for long.

What will you do next, they wonder?
What foolish blunder? What further desecration –
Before you awake and realize?

III

Occasionally one will dust off those weary wings, flutter and fly.
Winds will change, and for a brief moment,
Love will enter the now toxic air.

A sigh of hope is heard within the hearts of many.
But it does not last.
It cannot be sustained.
Not yet.

Ask me why. Oh. Please. Do.

IV

There is a fabric that holds this universe together.
An ancient warp and woof of life.
No cotton this. Not even silk or satin.
No, this is the stuff that hearts are made of,
That travels pathways of geometric harmonics
Lighting galaxies as it spews forth in all its splendour.

It is unstoppable, of course
Unavoidable, actually
Undeniable –
But still you try.

To usurp it is impossible,
A flight of fantasy on your part.
It belongs to all, permeates all, is all.
It is not yours to hoard or blunder –
But still, amazingly, you try.

Are you not tired yet?!

So here’s the irony, the paradox, the problem.
Put simply for you to understand –
What you do blocks the very field of energetic awareness
That sustains your, yes your, very own existence.

You have created a game that is a self-fulfilling prophecy
In which you are doomed to be no more.
You do not know this yet, so you continue,
Like unfed vultures, to merrily feast
Upon the dreams and hopes of others.

If it were just about you,
You would be left to your own devices.
But sadly, it is not so.

You think you can act with impunity
But, once again, you do not remember.
You lack vision, foresight. You do not see the larger picture.
You harm one. You harm all.

And so, ultimately, it cannot be allowed.

V

Understand this –

Unborn dreams are fragile things.
Like hopes, they reside in the realm of etheric mist.
Some say they are the prodding of angels
Whispered gently into an open heart.

What matters is this – to come into being,
They must be nourished, nurtured, loved.

Each spins a slender thread of woven gold
Linking it to the core of all. Invisible to the naked eye,
Unknown to many, they crisscross galaxies.
There are zillions of them.

To the enlightened among you
They are the geometries of existence.
To us, they are the song lines of the eternal heart.

So here’s the rub –

When you repeatedly force a people to its knees
Pushing spirits into the bog of existence
Until they can barely remember their own names
You poke holes in the chrysalis of their dreaming.
You weaken those very threads.
You damage the song lines.

Song lines are the royalty of life from which worlds are born.

If any should break, connected to your doing, you will be held responsible.
That, lest you forgot, is the hidden addendum to the codex of the contract
You eagerly signed when you initiated the Game you were so thirsty to play
(A game, I hasten to remind you, that was meant to enhance not devastate).
You, of all, should appreciate the irony of this.

So I ask again – Are you not tired of it yet?
WE ARE.

VI

There is, of course, a key to redemption – there is always a key.
But you will have to use it well and you will have to use it quickly
For you are running out of time (does this sound familiar?).
Let me offer a clue –

All things are born from the heart
And to the heart all things return

The key, like all keys before and after, has a name.
This key’s name happens to be Compassion.
Not your every day garden variety kind.
NO, only pure unadulterated unconditional open-hearted
Compassion will do now – for all and everything.

You have travelled far from the core of your heart’s awareness.
Will you get back to it in time? We do not know.
But we are obligated to remind you of the key’s existence
And hence give you an opportunity to try.

VII

One last thought –

This world is a precious place, sculpted with endless opportunities for love –
Beautiful, abundant, vast, and deliciously exquisite in its myriad of forms.
It has always been humanity’s mandate to flourish and prosper –
To excel in coming home to its true essence and to cherish all who
Reside in this unfolding garden of love. This mandate will not be denied.

So I will ask you one last time – Are you not tired of this Game?

For truly, I AM.

white rose