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.

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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.

 

for New Zealand…

This article (and its added poem, which I posted here years ago) is long, so I hope you will hang in and continue reading. And if it strikes a chord in your heart, please share. It is my feeling that New Zealand could use your prayers today.

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I AWOKE THIS MORNING to learn of the latest earthquake in New Zealand, a country that, as many know, is prone to such things. Some report it as a 7.5, others as a 7.8. Either way you look at it, it was large. Unlike the Christchurch earthquake, this one was inland and deeper. It was also bigger. The subsequent aftershocks have been large, shallow, and some have migrated northward. And there have been beginning tsunamis and casualties.

BACKTRACK, IF YOU WILL, to 2011. This time I wasn’t on the other side of the ocean. I was landing in Auckland – two hours after the Christchurch earthquake hit. As I watched the story unfold day after day for the next two weeks with all its aftershocks and increasingly bleak coverage, and as I personally walked small forest trails and ocean’s black sands, stared at calm sunsets and wild cloudy skies, I found myself touched beyond measure.

THIS WRITING BELOW feels as important to me now as it did then. As I read it again, I couldn’t help but feel that tucked within, there is perhaps a message for us all. It is a small homage to the spirit and heart of the Land of the Long White Cloud and of its people. New Zealanders, in my experience, are a strong kind people. That doesn’t mean your prayers and caring aren’t needed. So again, if this writing touches you, feel free to pass it on. Perhaps in the telling its heart song will help ease the way a little.

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       LAND OF THE LONG WHITE CLOUD

                                                                                                                  ©Aliana Alani 2011

 

LAND OF THE LONG WHITE CLOUD – AOTEAROA – Where stories linger like slender strings of tiny ocean pearls within your billowy sleeves of cloudlike memory. Where sky and sea walk hand in hand and in their mirage-like mist worlds both old and new appear to hover, and on their very edges ethereal doors stand ready to be entered, to share gifts perhaps waiting to be given. Is it but a dream to feel this way? And yet somehow, I think not.

                Kia Ora, you say.

                Aloha, I answer. For that is what I know in my heart.

Heart – the door you offer, at least to me – the chance to enter a land of ancient openness and be at peace, to walk with ease again along the corridors of time. As if a jewel had been here patiently waiting to be retrieved and lived anew. Strange to find you now, for I have landed on your shores when the earth is rumbling mightily and the ring of shifting sands and olden fissures is making itself known. Breaking through the seeming solidness of life and coughing up its innards for the entire world to see.

                Kia Kaha, you say, for you have been through this before and know no fear.

Is that the opportunity, when all else falls away, to know no fear? To know that life always begins anew, that if we open our hearts and trust the birth, it can perhaps be even better than before, that we are strong in spirit no matter what?

I am touched by the hearts of people on this land of yours, Oh Long White Cloud. Touched by their generosity and kindness in the midst of devastation – their willingness to reach out and help another. It is the humaneness within humanity, is it not – to offer aid without question or condition? Too often we forget this as we stride our world of ever-increasing gadgets and sound bites. Your people are helping us to remember.

Ke Aloha Aotearoa, your beauty is astounding. Gods have walked upon your earth and fished in your waters. Songs have been sung in your honour and winds have dashed your shores. Mountains high and long have risen dressed in snowy garments. And films have told stories of Middle Earths and Hobbit kingdoms. You are part of a realm we now call, The Pacific. But somehow you are part of something else as well. It lives within the very fabric of your air, and hence within the fabric of your people. Amongst all else, it is a strength of heart and the never-ending ability to dare to weave new story into life, no matter what. A wondrous gift this is for the world to see and feel. Thank you for bringing it to our table.

Kia Kaha, Aotearoa, Land of the Long White Cloud. Kia Kaha New Zealand.

You are loved.

 

 

 

The Man and The Angel

*This wee story looks long but it really isn’t, so hang in there. And thanks for that!

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The Man and The Angel                                        By: Aliana Alani ©2016

The man and the angel were sitting on the fence drinking tea. The kind that helps you see more clearly. The man thought it was your everyday ordinary black tea. The angel knew otherwise.  They were sitting on a lovely stone fence, the kind with rocks and moss and tiny pretty flowers peeking out. It was a grand day. A day of sunlight upon green grasses. One could almost say that it was magical. Not a dark cloud in the sky.

The angel hovered in thought, picking his moment. The man waited. He could feel something coming. After all, they’d had these chats before.

“It’s a grand day.” The angel said, stating the obvious.

“Aye, it is.”

“You’re fond of grand days, are you not?”

“I am.”

“It would be a shame for that to change.” The angel threw that out gently.

The man fussed a little within. He didn’t take much to round-about conversations. “And why, for the love of God, would that change? Other than your occasional storm, that is.”

The angel let out a sigh. “The words of the world are spinning into a great tempest, my friend. Soon all the ranting and raging will erupt like an angry volcano. What will happen then will depend largely on what happens now.”

“You’re talking in riddles again.”

“Then I’ll be direct.” The angel smiled. The man nodded, though he inwardly knew it was highly probable that he was not going to like what was to be said at all at all. “You didn’t come here for this – all this fighting and fuming, this destroying of things.”

“I thought you said we came here to learn.”

“You did. But you came here to remember who you are more. Besides, do you not think you’ve learned about destruction enough?  It would seem to us that you acquired a PhD in it lifetimes ago. All you’re doing now is circling the wagons of remembering. What’s to learn in that?”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Am I? Even if I was,” the angel sighed again, “the point is this – you’re running out of time. You must come home to your true being now. You came to this exquisite planet to participate in all of its beauty, not destroy it, so that you could open to the garden of life that exists within yourself and all creation, and in so doing, dare to dive into the deepest caverns of your own heart so that you would know, beyond question or doubt, that you, YOU, my friend, are indeed divine love incarnate.”

Your man blushed. “Aye, well I wouldn’t go that far. I’m a fair enough lover, I’ll grant you that, but…”

“You know what I’m saying.

The man nodded. “And if we dive into that deep heart? What then?”

The angel smiled. “Then you’re home – wherever you are.”

The man swirled that one around in his mind. “Will it really make a difference?”

“It will to you.”

He grinned. “And what happens to one happens to all.”

The angel looked him straight in the eye. “You could say that.”

The man thought about it for a moment, feeling the impact of the angel’s gaze, then he took a colossally deep breath and popped down off the fence, straightening his jacket as he landed, as if he was about to meet God Himself. “Right then, I’ll give it a go.” He paused, turned to the angel. “But you’d best hang around for awhile – to make sure I get it right.”

“As you wish.”

With that, they sauntered together, the man and the angel, with a glint and a laugh, into the light of the green grasses and the soft air of tomorrow today.

For everyone from Fort McMurray

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Wherever you are at the moment, stay safe – and know that our prayers are with you. May angels guide you during this difficult time.

To the Fear Mongers

Perhaps you do not know. Maybe you do not remember. Perhaps it suits you to not remember. Whichever the case may be, let me cast a window of knowing in your direction.

You do not own this world. It does not belong solely to you.  It belongs to us all. Therefore you do not get to decide what is right for me or anyone else. You do not get to decide if we will all live in fear or hatred or trepidation. You do not get to decide.

I realize you would like to. I also realize it might even suit your purposes, hidden though they might sometimes be. I realize that there are games in play and you feel obligated, perhaps even destined, to play them.

But let me reiterate – you do not get to decide.

This world belongs to each and every one of us, no matter our race, our religion, where we live, or where we would like to live. Ultimately we are all part of the divine energy of the universe – each of us dancing our own dance – each of us having an opportunity to shine a light on the very best we can be while we are here on this precious planet.

So you do not get to decide for me how I will feel, nor how I will think, or what I will do. That choice belongs to me, solely to me, just like it belongs to each and every other person on this earth. My responsibility in this dance is to remember that the choice belongs to me, and to choose lovingly and wisely.

So let me be clear about my choice. I choose to live in love. I choose to live in kindness. I choose compassion. I choose to care about my fellow human beings. I choose to see them for the divine light they truly are. I choose to envision a world of love and beauty, a world of harmony and peace, and I choose to see it happening now. I choose this, no matter what picture you attempt to bring to my table that speaks otherwise.

Your opportunity now, should you choose it, is to open your eyes and your hearts, and begin to choose lovingly and wisely.

Namaste.lotus flower

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.

The Time for Love

© Aliana Alani 2015

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This one’s a bit long so hang in there with me.

MANY YEARS AGO in what I now lovingly call ‘The Days of White’ when I was, in my own small way, everyone’s little guru dressed constantly in white speaking of the awakening of humanity to its divinity, I remember sharing an insight, a peek-into-the-future if you will.  We were discussing the evolution of the world, where it might go, and what our part was in it. I remember saying to these beautiful souls who were with me at the time, many of whom could not envision that awakening to divinity might ever include hardship – Be prepared for the possibility that there may come a time when each of us in this world will be asked to share with others without question, even to the point of sharing your only loaf of bread if that is the state you find yourself in at the time. Why? Put simply, because you have the bread and they do not. Why else? Because they are part of your human family. Why again? Because it will be one of your greatest opportunities to know, without measure, exactly who you are.

AND WHO ARE YOU? You are unlimited, eternal, everlasting love. And that is what you will have the chance to give – through the offering of bread, of hope, of rest, married with the divine love in your heart.

SO HERE WE ARE so many years later and it seems to me those days are upon us. Refugees pour from Syria into Europe. They are one group of many in this world seeking a better way or a safe place to live, to eat, to raise their children. Often they come with nothing except a longing to be out of devastation and into the light of possibility.

HOW DO WE SEE THEM and what do we do? Where are our hearts? As one refugee recently said, “Where is the world’s humanity?”  It was this statement that brought me back to those earlier days and hence this chat with you today.

THERE IS AN AVERSION to looking at the devastation in our world. Partly because it scares us – if it can happen to them, perhaps it will happen to me.  Partly because somewhere in it all it asks something of us, and that scares us too. ‘If I give you part of what I have, will there be enough left?’ And partly, for some, because we think that if we look too closely at what is going wrong, we will help manifest it. This is quantum physics, the law of attraction, and there is truth to it.

BUT IF WE PUSH THE SUFFERING ASIDE, if we block it from view, we run the risk of judging its story and those who are a part of it. Nestled within judgment, there is always a modicum of fear, which carries its own ‘attractor’ energy, often sending us into yet another swirl. And if we judge, we are still dancing the dance of duality – this is good, that is bad. It is a dance that does not ultimately bring us home to the centre of all that is – to Love.

SO HOW CAN WE LOOK at those who are suffering, how can we help, and stay true to our path of the positive? The word, Compassion, immediately comes to mind; that and a constant awareness that we are abundant in love because it is our natural state. Carry within the awareness that you are an overflowing vessel of love that knows no limits, know it to be true, and respond from there.

THERE IS A BEAUTIFUL WORLD before us. The garden, the kingdom, whatever you want to call it, is here and now. But to have eyes to see and ears to hear, we must have an open heart. We must love without measure. And we must dare to see everything and everyone in this world as the love they truly are.

OUR WORLD IS THIRSTING FOR LOVE. We are parched to the deserts and beyond with a longing and a calling for love. Look at the eyes of these children and you will see a call for love. Look in the mirror and you will find that same call. It is everywhere. It does not matter how wealthy we appear to be or how bereft. The call for love transcends everything.

SO THE TIME FOR LOVE TRULY IS NOW. Your opportunity to gift that love will come in many forms. Judge them not, for each time you open your heart and share the pure love within, you will grow and flower and blossom. And so will our world.

Namaste and Aloha.

Souls are flying …

©Aliana Alani 2015

Souls are flying –??????????????

Soaring like newborn angels

High into the heavens.

Who are we to say

How or when they fly?

Better to honour their passing,

To kiss their leave-taking with prayer flags fluttering

And candles flickering like soft winds

From the heart.

Better to wish them well

In this their transition from one place

Of being to another.

Better to usher them on

Along a wave of love.wave-energy_nice-wave

Remembering… ©Aliana Alani 2015

 

 

Once, long ago, I sauntered across a desert, red and endless.Deep Red sand dunes of the Strzelecki Desert in outback South Australia.

You were there, waiting.

 

Recently, as time flies, I entered a crowd-filled room

Only to find you, once again.

 

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We are ancient, you and I.

Somehow beyond time and space.

 

 

 

Yet every so often we meet,

Star lovers crossing the heavens.

Our hearts mingle for but a brief second –

And we remember.

 

Then it appears we are no more.

But that is an illusion – isn’t it.

 

Today, your people call forth.

They cry for understanding, justice –

Perhaps even love?

 

How can I not hear?

After all, we are one, you and I,

Whether in the heavens or now.

 

Isn’t that the purpose of remembering?

That, and love.

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 … for Dale … and for the Australian Aboriginal people, especially those in the remote communities – may your call be heard and answered with love