The Fish That Was Thirsty

One night a baby fish was sleeping under some coral when God appeared to him in a dream. "I want you to go forth with a message to all the fish in the sea," God said.

"What should I tell them?" the little fish asked.

"Just tell them you're thirsty," God replied. "And see what they do." Then without another word, He disappeared.

The next morning the little fish woke up and remembered his dream. "What a strange thing God wants me to do," he thought to himself. But as soon as he saw a large tuna swimming by, the little fish piped up, "Excuse me, but I'm thirsty."

"Then you must be a fool," then tuna said. And with a disdainful flick of his tail, he swam away.

The little fish did feel rather foolish, but he had his orders. The next fish he saw was a grinning shark. Keeping a safe distance, the little fish called out, "Excuse me, sir, but I'm thirsty."

"Then you must be crazy," the shark replied. Noticing a rather hungry look in the shark's eye, the little fish swam away quickly.

All day he met cod and mackerels and swordfish and groupers, but every time he made his short speech, they turned their backs and would have nothing to do with him. Feeling hopelessly confused, the little fish sought out the wisest creature in the sea, who happened to be an old blue whale with three harpoon scars on his side.

"Excuse me, but I'm thirsty!" the little fish shouted, wondering if the old whale could even see him, he was such a tiny speck. But the wise one stopped in his tracks. "You've seen God, haven't you?" he said.

"How did you know?"

"Because I was thirsty once, too." The old whale laughed.

The little fish looked very surprised. "Please tell me what this message from God means," he implored.

"It means that we are looking for Him in the wrong places," the old whale explained. "We look high and low for God, but somehow He's not there. So we blame Him and tell ourselves that He must have forgotten us. Or else we decide that He left a long time ago, if He was ever around."

"How strange," the little fish said, "to miss what is everywhere."

"Very strange," the old whale agreed. "Doesn't it remind you of fish who say they're thirsty?"

Dance of Life

I cannot escape the moon. Its soft beams push aside the curtains at night. I don't even have to see it -- a cool blue energy falls across my bed and I am up. I race down the dark hall and swing open the door, not to leave home but to go back into it. "Moon, I'm here!" I shout.

"Good," she replies. "Now give us a little dance."

But my body has started moving long before she says anything. When did it start? I can't remember -- my body has always been moving. Since childhood I have reacted to the moon this way, as her favorite lunatic, and not just hers. The stars draw me near, close enough so that I see through their twinkling act. They're dancing, too, doing a soft molecular jiggle that makes my carbon atoms jump in time.

With my arms flung wide, I head for the sea, which brings out another dance in me. Moon dancing is slow inside, and soft as blue shadows on the lawn. When the surf booms, I hear the heart of the earth, and the tempo picks up. I feel the dolphins leaping in the white foam, trying to fly, and almost flying when the waves curl high to the heavens. Their tails leave arcs of light as plankton glow in the waves. A school of minnows rises up, flashing silver in the moonlight like a new constellation.

"Ah!" the sea says, "Now we're gathering a crowd."

I run along the beach, catching waves with one foot and dodging them with the other. I hear faint popping sounds -- a hundred panicky sand crabs are ducking into their holes, just in case. But I'm racing now, sometimes on my toes, sometimes running flat-out.
I throw my head back and a swirling nebula says, "Fast now, twirl!"
Grinning, ducking my head for balance, I start to spin as wildly as I can. This is my favorite dance, because it contains a secret. The faster I twirl, the more I am still inside. My dance is all motion without, all silence within. As much as I love to make music, it's the unheard music that never dies. And silence is my real dance, though it never moves. It stands aside, my choreographer of grace, and blesses each finger and toe.

I have forgotten the moon now and the sea and the dolphins, but I am in their joy more than ever. As far away as a star, as near as a grain of sand, the presence rises, shimmering with light. I could be in it forever, it is so loving and warm. But touch it once, and light shoots forth from the stillness. It quivers and thrills me, and I know my fate is to show others that this silence, this light, this blessing is my dance. I take this gift only to give it again.

"Quick, give!" says the light.

As never before, I try to obey, inventing new steps, new gestures of joy. All at once I sense where I am, running back up the hill. The light in my bedroom is on. Seeing it brings me back down. I begin to feel my pounding heart, the drowsiness in my arms, the warm blood in my legs. My cells want to dance slower. "Can we walk a little?" they ask. "It's been kind of wild."
"Sure." I laugh, slowing to an easy amble.

I turn the doorknob, panting lightly, glad to be tired. Crawling back into bed, I remember something that I always wonder at. They say that some of the stars that we see overhead aren't really there. Their light takes millions of years to reach us, and all we are doing is looking into the past, into a bygone moment when those stars could still shine.
"So what does a star do after it quits shining?" I ask myself.
"Maybe it dies."
"Oh, no," a voice in my head says. "A star can never die. It just turns into a smile and melts back into the cosmic music, the dance of life." I like that thought, the last one I have before my eyes close. With a smile, I melt back into the music myself.

Ecstasy

I was born to never die

To live in bliss, to never cry

To speak the truth and never lie

To share my love without a sigh

To stretch my arms without a tie

This is my dance, this is my high

It's not a secret, can't you see

Why can't we all live in ecstasy

Ecstasy -- Ecstasy

Why can't we all

Live in Ecstasy.

Without a guilt, without regret

I am here to forget

Tainted memories of imagined sin

In every friend, kith and kin

We have come to celebrate here

The getting rid of every fear

Of every notion, every seed

Of any separation, caste, or creed.

This alienation, fragmentation, abomination

Of separation, exploitation, isolation

This cruelty, hysteria, absolute madness

This anger, anxiety, overflowing sadness

Disrupted ecology, wanton destruction

Diseased biology, nature's obstruction

Endangered species, environmental pollution

Holes in the ozone, defying solution

Is not knowing the spark that lights my interior

Is the same fire, glowing in every man, child, and mother

superior

We have come to celebrate here

The getting rid of every fear

Of every notion, every seed

Of any separation, caste, or creed.

Feeling free, let us fly

Into the boundless, beyond the sky

For we were born to never die

To live in bliss, to never cry

To speak the truth and never lie

To share our love without a sigh

To stretch our arms without a tie

This is our dance, this is our high

It's not a secret, can't you see

Why can't we all live in ecstasy

Ecstasy -- Ecstasy

Why can't we all

Live in Ecstasy.

Enough For Today

Dance rehearsals can go on past midnight, but this time I stopped at ten. "I hope you don't mind," I said, looking up into space, "but that's enough for today."

A voice from the control room spoke. "You okay?"

"A little tired, I guess," I said.

I slipped on a windbreaker and headed down the hall. Running footsteps came up behind me. I was pretty sure who they belonged to. "I know you too well," she said, catching up with me. "What's really wrong?"

I hesitated. "Well, I don't know how this sounds, but I saw a picture today in the papers. A dolphin had drowned in a fishing net. From the way its body was tangled in the lines, you could read so much agony. Its eyes were vacant, yet there was still that smile, the one dolphins never lose, even when they die..." My voice trailed off.

She put her hand lightly in mine. "I know, I know."

"No, you don't know all of it yet. It's not just that I felt sad, or had to face the fact that an innocent being had died. Dolphins love to dance -- of all the creatures in the sea, that's their mark. Asking nothing from us, they cavort in the waves while we marvel. They race ahead of ships, not to get there first but to tell us, 'It's all meant to be play. Keep to your course, but dance while you do it.' "So there I was, in the middle of rehearsal, and I thought, 'They're killing a dance.' And then it seemed only right to stop. I can't keep the dance from being killed, but at least I can pause in memory, as one dancer to another. Does that make any sense?"

Her eyes were tender. "Sure, in its way. Probably we'll wait years before everyone agrees on how to solve this thing. So many interests are involved. But it's too frustrating waiting for improvements tomorrow. Your heart wanted to have its say now."

"Yes," I said, pushing the door open for her. "I just had this feeling, and that's enough for today."

Children

Children show me in their playful smiles the divine in everyone. This simple goodness shines straight from their hearts. This has so much to teach. If a child wants chocolate ice cream, he just asks for it. Adults get tangled up in complications over whether to eat the ice cream or not. A child simply enjoys.

What we need to learn from children isn't childish. Being with them connects us to the deep wisdom of life, which is everpresent and only asks to be lived. Now, when the world is so confused and its problems so complicated, I feel we need our children more than ever. Their natural wisdom points the way to solutions that lie, waiting to be recognized, within our own hearts.

Courage

It's curious what takes courage and what doesn't. When I step out on stage in front of thousands of people, I don't feel that I'm being brave. It can take much more courage to express true feelings to one person. When I think of courage, I think of the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz. He was always running away from danger. He often cried and shook with fear. But he was also sharing his real feelings with those he loved, even though he didn't always like those feelings.

That takes real courage, the courage to be intimate. Expressing your feelings is not the same as falling apart in front of someone else -- it's being accepting and true to your heart, whatever it may say. When you have the courage to be intimate, you know who you are, and you're willing to let others see that. It's scary, because you feel so vulnerable, so open to rejection. But without self-acceptance, the other kind of courage, the kind heroes show in movies, seems hollow. In spite of the risks, the courage to be honest and intimate opens the way to self-discovery. It offers what we all want, the promise of love.

Heaven Is Here

You and I were never separate

It's just an illusion

Wrought by the magical lens of

Perception

There is only one Wholeness

Only one Mind

We are like ripples

In the vast Ocean of Consciousness

Come, let us dance

The Dance of Creation

Let us celebrate

The Joy of Life

The birds, the bees

The infinite galaxies

Rivers, Mountains

Clouds and Valleys

Are all a pulsating pattern

Living, breathing

Alive with cosmic energy

Full of Life, of Joy

This Universe of Mine

Don't be afraid

To know who you are

You are much more

Than you ever imagined

You are the Sun

You are the Moon

You are the wildflower in bloom

You are the Life-throb

That pulsates, dances

From a speck of dust

To the most distant star

And you and I

Were never separate

It's just an illusion

Wrought by the magical lens of

Perception

Let us celebrate

The Joy of Life

Let us dance

The Dance of Creation

Curving back within ourselves

We create

Again and again

Endless cycles come and go

We rejoice

In the infinitude of Time

There never was a time

When I was not

Or you were not

There never will be a time

When we will cease to be

Infinite -- Unbounded

In the Ocean of Consciousness

We are like ripples

In the Sea of Bliss

You and I were never separate

It's just an illusion

Wrought by the magical lens of

Perception

Heaven is Here

Right now is the moment

of Eternity

Don't fool yourself

Reclaim your Bliss

Once you were lost

But now you're home

In a nonlocal Universe

There is nowhere to go

From Here to Here

Is the Unbounded

Ocean of Consciousness

We are like ripples

In the Sea of Bliss

Come, let us dance

The Dance of Creation

Let us celebrate

The Joy of Life

And

You and I were never separate

It's just an illusion

Wrought by the magical lens of

Perception

Heaven is Here

Right now, this moment of Eternity

Don't fool yourself

Reclaim your Bliss

God

It's strange that God doesn't mind expressing Himself/Herself in all the religions of the world, while people still cling to the notion that their way is the only right way. Whatever you try to say about God, someone will take offense, even if you say everyone's love of God is right for them.

For me the form God takes is not the most important thing. What's most important is the essence. My songs and dances are outlines for Him to come in and fill. I hold out the form. She puts in the sweetness.

I've looked up at the night sky and beheld the stars so intimately close, it was as if my grandmother had made them for me. "How rich, how sumptuous," I thought. In that moment I saw God in His creation. I could as easily have seen Her in the beauty of a rainbow, the grace of a deer bounding through a meadow, the truth of a father's kiss. But for me the sweetest contact with God has no form. I close my eyes, look within, and enter a deep soft silence. The infinity of God's creation embraces me. We are one.

The Last Tear

Your words stabbed my heart, and I cried tears of pain. "Get out!" I shouted. "These are the last tears I'll ever cry for you." So you left.
I waited hours, but you didn't return. That night by myself I cried tears of frustration.
I waited weeks, but you had nothing to say. Thinking of your voice, I cried tears of loneliness.
I waited months, but you left no sign for me. In the depths of my heart, I cried tears of despair.

How strange that all these tears could not wash away the hurt! Then one thought of love pierced my bitterness. I remembered you in the sunlight, with a smile as sweet as May wine. A tear of gratitude started to fall, and miraculously, you were back. Soft fingers touched my cheek, and bent over for a kiss.
"Why have you come?" I whispered.
"To wipe away your last tear," you replied. "It was the one you saved for me."

How I Make Music

People ask me how I make music. I tell them I just step into it. It's like stepping into a river and joining the flow. Every moment in the river has its song. So I stay in the moment and listen.

What I hear is never the same. A walk through the woods brings a light crackling song : Leaves rustle in the wind, birds chatter and squirrels scold, twigs crunch underfoot, and the beat of my heart holds it all together. When you join the flow, the music is inside and outside, and both are the same. As long as I can listen to the moment, I'll always have music.

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 817