An Ode to Deep Play

A living prayer to engage and interface with the world; the Great Mirror: in meaningfully creative ways. A lyrical meditation on soulful expression written in poetic prose.

May I meet you, the Great mirror, with gratitude renewed. May I embody this grounded knowing within the weaving of my inner multitudes and the perpetually personal, modestly extraordinary human strive at stitching them with the ineffable magnitudes out there. May my beautifully incongruent becoming, my splintering, even my stumbling, that unceasing flow of my subjective unfolding be ever-held, coalesce and commune in a gentle transfigured resonance with the wilderness of this place of being with an internal disposition towards integrative grace. It is, I guess, one way to say; may I make space, always try to find some room for this groundwork of expressive being-ness to transform itself into this vessel of becoming as my will - in peaceful surrender - may always wish to - let it.

May I continually find serendipitous ways, little openings, slithering doors for clear glimmering springs of unimaginably creative, deep playfulness to water the garden of living, accompanying it; a compassionate attention to every aliveness - may it overflow into this little big world of mine, delicately, resiliently spurting and softly transforming it into a nurturing home, into fertile soil for my soul, that I can always uncover in the depths of myself, wherever I may go, there - within, out there and everywhere.

A cosmically humbling, a movingly human - endeavor, this courageous venturing; this experiential understanding of this quiet spark, this ephemeral life of mine, be it slow or fast, may any rigid expectation crumble when faced with the imagined pact; the only sacred fact when it is held close to the heart of man; mine may be the knowing that walking alongside the pace-less path I climb, a silent vow arks and etches a way in my every step in this life. The vow continually unfolds, growing even when it is seemingly broken, sometimes steadying and accosting onto a conscious shore of my meditative meaning making, this ; almost a secret disposition to foster an inherent kindness and pour it into my being, so that it may, in extension spill over and into other vessels of becoming, nurturing each other as we go along. Into this silent moment and in the ever flowing echoes of all things unfolding from it, I hope, even as I may falter, to always uncover the weighty meaning this carries and uphold this softly, imbue it responsibly, into the fabric of my life, in turn.

May I always cultivate this microcosm of heartfelt consciousness and flesh, so simple and so beautifully intricate; that strives for growth, this humble invention, may I invite my return, to this subtle world, this overflowing core, this home to a life, an ever evolving mosaic, that is mine - for a fleetingly eternal experience of time, and that may, ultimately even one day - inspire, shed some light onto a fragmentary piece of someone’s own truthful way of navigational, earnest, becoming - so that this inner conception of justice of mine may live out its own making, in a way that is inherently and unassumingly patient with my own sincere asking from this wandering self of mine.

So may I always meet the Great mirror, with this; a kneeling to life’s fluctuating-ly still teachings, an ever present greeting rooted in gratefulness - that may steady my word with an overflowing blossoming of spirit, and may wisdom be with it - I find flowers to have already perfected this, but as for me, I’m still learning from the journey of my own becoming as I go along, something, sometimes, feels as though it leaves breadcrumbs, quiet sparks to guide my return home, flowers on the innumerable pathways of my life dwell both inside and outside my mind, they guide me back to a silent prayer, found most accurately only in something we transiently behold such as that which is intangible enclosed, animatedly hosted in a petals’ ephemeral colors - spirited, it is almost as if it is my soul’s unassuming, kind way of eternally saying; ‘remember me, as you stray, I’ll be here, waiting patiently, to commune, to engage, in our own serendipitously and incongruently grounded ways of weaving deep play into our day to day.’

(Pictured above is a work of art that I love by Vincent Van Gogh - Almond Blossom)