Who is Maria? - The Musing of a Moment!

Gosh on a good day, I'm not really sure. I have this hazy concept of self that keeps drifting over the fictional boundaries of time, space and individual definitions of human beings. I just sort of am, in the way that the wind, the sun, the stars, the grass, the trees and the birds just are.

I am the bird song I hear outside my office window. I am the breeze that caresses my shoulders stealing its way in from the garden. I am the open window, open door, open something or other that allows all manner of thoughts, feelings, sensory impressions to flow. I am me and you and everything.

How tiresome! I cannot get my brain to work in a linear, rational, analytical way today. It is filled with sunshine and storm clouds, sorrow, and joy, impatience and the infinite patience of the divine. I would say I am a crazy mixed up kid but that archetype is fighting it out with the wise old crone who also inhabits this vortex of energy that might be considered to be Maria.

Who am I today? Am I defined, corralled into a box, by what I do or say? Or is there something far beyond all of that which is who I am at any given moment. I sense immense fluidity, shape shifting denizen of the energy of the source. Shall I permit myself to pop out from one of the boxes marked psychotherapist, listener, hypnotherapist, writer, mother, fifty four year old, woman, wife, lover, friend, firefly, butterfly, fire breathing dragon? Ah, I think not, then do I think or do I simply dream this life into existence?

Quirky old day today. It is so beautiful, so filled with magic. The Source is bursting out all over, shining in the soft greening of the trees, shimmering in the blue blaze of the sky, singing to me in a thousand bird voices. a million buzzing bees and the seductive whispers of the waterfall. Who is Maria? She is all of these things. She is Source and of the Source. Source, sorceror? Sorceror, Source?

Shhhhh! Do you hear the Goddess calling? She calls from deep within each of us, for we are all the Goddess. We are one.

Who is Maria?

Just a dream. Go back to sleep and who knows who you may create in your slumbers.

Serpent

The snake slithered sinuously between the sleepers as they lay nestled together in the naked innocence of unknowing, children in the dawning of time itself.

Touching, caressing, the serpent draws from secret wells of sensory pleasure great scarket gushes of sensation, staining the pristine purity of their dreams.

Seductive murmurings whisper in their slumbers, bringing that to life which once was suspended still and quiet in the limbo of ignorance.

The apple of the tree of knowledge, once bitten, cannot be made whole again. Bitter sweet is this fruit, the gift of the Serpent.