BUBBLES

I like the way thoughts just pop up like bubbles!
Pop in unexpectedly, with surprising gifts and welcome solutions
surfacing from the fertile underworld beyond sequence, will and ego:
that natural home of archetypes, sub and supra conscious Ground,
the collective stew-pot where matters brew and marinate
and the master chef can cock head and twitch nose
savouring, testing, proving
those perfect combos, precise moments and measures.

Little sous-chef moi?
I scuttle about with my pots and pans, tools, recipes and mini know-how
gathered from the fruits of my mis-matches, experiments, impulses and reactions
- also from my fearful plots and plans:
those efforts to control and fix.
whether from haste or folly, greed or carelessness.
The cocky, conscious mind thinking it knows what its at
at the same time as falling into those pitfalls of inattention, under its very nose.
Smart and quick to rationalise, justify, blame, find excuses or feel unworthy;
while distracted by the whispering demons getting the upper hand
with their tempting shortcuts and easy un-loving.

Breathing in and out
suspended lightly in the moment
senses alert
mind in repose.
That’s when the bubbles rise!

Brain and brow screwed up and furrowed
with all the efforts
of trying to obey instructions
achieve a projected goal
fulfil other’s (or one’s own) expectations
avoid unknown probabilities or risks
arrive at a synthetic outcome
within a specified time-scale:
equals stress, equals inorganic!

Where is the pleasure, the fascination and fun?
That sense of discovery, presence and achievement?
Not to mention the freedom and adventure
the dignity of independence and service,
being part of, yet autonomous and responsible.

Bubbles, those freebie messages,
synchronicities creative messengers
with affirming clues and tips.
Our personal hotline from sundry Otherwheres.