Mother Has A Molten Core
     At various and sundry times circumstances conspire, and we find
     ourselves tried in the extreme.  We may focus all our energy and
     mental wherewithal on dissecting, compartmentalizing, classifying,
     and then vigorously attacking what we perceive to be the little
     pieces that together make up the big problem.  Great way to build a
     bridge, but if the matter at hand is a life that seems inexplicably
     hard, even unbearable, and every direction seems blocked by
     insurmountable obstacles, the engineering approach doesn't work. 
     We lose the means by which we normally manage to see clearly,
     can not feel our power within us, and thus we fail to cope.
     Perhaps the best advice at such a time is no advice at all, because
     these personal-oppression situations are so unique that stepping
     even an inch outside of the afflicted person could yield an invalid
     impression and hence inappropriate judgment.  But it just might
     help the afflicted person, hemmed in on all sides by menace, to step
     out of the self and contemplate our Earth Mother.
     At some place at any given time, and at some time in any given
     place, her body is the scene of destruction, pathos, and hate.  Yet
     Mother does not despair, perhaps because it is equally true that at
     some place at any given time, and at some time in any given place,
     her body is the scene of creation, joy, and love.  Yet Mother does
     not say to herself resignedly: "Some times and some places it is the
     pits, some times and some places it is great, so I guess it all sortof
     balances out and so I guess I'll continue this Mother stuff a while
     If you've ever seen, felt, or heard Mother, you'll know that is
     nonsense.  She is totally and at all times in a state of stupendous
     and utter joy.  She remains centered in her power, and even when
     the need arises for a slight adjustment and as a consequence a few
     or even many lives return to her bosom, she continues to create and
     radiate life with a will and an exuberance that often crosses the
     border into wild abandon.
     Does Earth Mother have prophets that declare her joy and describe
     her prowess on streetcorners? Have her priests and scribes written
     on hoary parchment to reveal her will and exact our obedience? 
     No, that's not her style.  If you have, in your lifetime, spent even a
     moment in the state of total bewilderment we call love, and were
     able to momentarily take your eyes and heart off your beloved, you
     then momentarily saw the world as Mother sees it.  You had your
     own revelation, you were momentarily empowered to be as Mother
     is continually.  Your core, too, was temporarily molten and your
     joy was full.
     Oh, so the way to break out of the shackles of feeling debiliting
     internal oppression is to find a lover and again be in love?  Helps
     temporarily I'm sure, but misses the point altogether.  That wildly
     creative state of mind we call romantic love is only one little
     window onto Mother's joy and power.  And when you need to start
     a fire on a cold night, crumpling a week's worth of newspaper and
     lighting it on fire can create marvelously distracting localized heat. 
     It is undoubtedly the same stuff, but it just doesn't quite fit the need
     because you are, in essence, borrowing another's fire.
     Remember, Mother has a molten core within her, and into it she
     continually draws her old self, and from it she continually creates
     her new self.
     How does Mother remain centered in her power?  She has an ocean
     of stillness, power and creativity within her, her molten core.  She
     slowly, but inexorably, receives into her self the floating platforms
     upon which she sculpts, paints, creates and plays.  She continually
     pours out from her deep, glowing self new platforms upon which to
     express her love of life and exuberance.  But no matter what
     happens, she stays focused and centered and creation never stops or
     even slows.
     You, too, are fitted out with a molten core.  You felt its heat, its
     light, and its creative power when you were in love.  It is still there,
     within you, patiently waiting for you to stop searching outside your
     self for what you need to continually re-create your self as Mother
     does.  So be still, quiet your mind, think on Mother and feel her joy
     enter you and melt you and empower you.
     You will know you have succeeded when color comes back into
     your vision in unexpected ways, when a pleasant musical sound
     touches you so deeply you are temporarily lost, when the smile or
     touch or quiet presence of a spouse, child or a good friend makes
     you weak as you feel the strength of the love that now lives in you,
     that is you and has been you all along.
     And when two such love-empowered beings, remaining centered
     and in their full power, discover each other romantically?  Then, my
     friend, you are beginning to understand lightning, volcanoes,
     supernovae, and even the Big Bang itself!
     [These impressions were written down on a Paris to Chicago flight,
     15 October 1995]

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