Books

Sample

Skyler looked at the October sky, gray, ominous, matching Skyler's mood. This morning didn't feel much like a day for collecting nuts, climbing trees, doing the things squirrels did best. Deciding instead to go for a walk, Skyler wandered into the Dark Wood.

…A blue jay surprised Skyler just as the perfect spot came into view.

The wise old jay, magnificent in both color and presence, spoke. "Hello Skyler. Welcome."

"Hello," Skyler replied.

"You have had a long journey this morning. We rarely get squirrels this deep in the Dark Wood. They call me River. It is nice meeting you, Skyler. I have been waiting for you."

…"I want my life to mean something. And I want to taste the colors of the morning sun. But when I tell my friends these things, they just laugh at me."

"What is it that the winds whisper to you, Skyler?"

Sample

The paths we walk are different, but the destination is the same. There are many more commonalities than differences. This is one truth the ego likes to befog.

When we choose to focus on the similarities, in full recognition that we are indeed One, it becomes possible to love and accept differing viewpoints. If love is the goal, the only goal, we can come together in this goal, seeking, discovering, and practicing a shared loving intent.

Test every thought for its lovingness before allowing it to make a home in you… Open your eyes, invite the unloving thoughts to leave, and look at the truths of love and peace. Then act. Act in love, and only in love. And all the world will change.

Sample

poetry is the nectar of the gods, the cup of creation, the depth of awareness, the speed of timeless nothingness...
for many of us, consciousness is expanding
and merging
and it's hard
painful
as the old trees are hit by lightning
and felled in the firestorm
language does not suffice
to express the vast expansion of the universe
so
we turn to drugs
or
we turn to poetry
i prefer poetry
i prefer a clear mind
and i love creating

Sample

My hands rest on the canvas of my dreams. I am the composer and the artist and the symphony and the painting. Moving deftly, slowly, clumsily, recklessly, thoughtfully — moving, moving, moving. My hands were made to write the songs of my heart, my heart was made to sing the songs of the universe. The universe was made to dance the dance of life with me.

Genuinely human
Perfectly divine
Living in truth
Brilliantly shine

Lover of life
Each wondrous day
Walking in wakefulness
Follows the way