On Storytelling

On Storytelling

There is this old Celtic thing, that there is very little difference between a song and a poem, between a poem and a story, between a story and a prayer, so that anytime someone is singing a song,or telling a story or reading poetry to a child, they are also inviting the child into a prayer.  There’s never a need to talk down to the child at all, Because something in the child already...

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A Perspective

A Perspective

Photo by Steve Halama on Unsplash “If the gospel isn’t good news for everybody, then it isn’t good news for anybody. And this is because the most powerful things happen when the church surrenders its desire to convert people and convince them to join. It is when the church gives itself away in radical acts of service and compassion, expecting nothing in return, that the way of Jesus...

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RE-DREAMING CHRIST

RE-DREAMING CHRIST

Some Christians might be shocked to learn that Jesus Christ is one of the  Main High Magicians in the Beauty and Truth Lab’s pantheon of deities and avatars. They may believe that people like us — Goddess-worshiping tantric Sufi Qabalist pagans who hang around with Zen trickster witches and espouse a socialist libertarian political philosophy — couldn’t possibly have an...

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Co-Creation 101…

Co-Creation 101…

Humans have the misconception that Source is no longer expanding or that Source is finished and perfect, and that humans are now working to accomplish that perfection.  But what is really going on is that Source is expanding into greater capacities of Love because of that which Man is living. ...

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Loesch mir die Augen aus

Loesch mir die Augen aus

Extinguish both my eyes: I see you still; Slam shut my ears: I can still hear you talking; Without my mouth I can implore your will And without my feet: towards you I keep on walking. Break off my arms: I shall hold you tight; My heart will yet embrace you all the same. Suppress my heart: my brain knows no deterrent; And if at last you set my brain aflame I carry you still on my...

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The Lanyard

The Lanyard

The other day I was ricocheting slowly off the blue walls of this room, moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano, from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor, when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard. No cookie nibbled by a French novelist could send one into the past more suddenly— a past where I sat at a workbench at a...

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