Listening 4 the Love of Love

I highly recommend Listening 4 the Love of Love. It’s a beautifully written book of self-realization and nourishment for the Soul.

Wendy Willow: Author & Intuitive Reader

Book Excerpts

Right Here

Right here, right now

 in the overlooked stillness,

in the absence of light,

 there exists a clean slate,

fresh potentials,

 something better than we can imagine,

 something ready to be born.

 We fight it, we fear it, we avoid it

 because we cannot access it as an ego.

 It asks us to give up who we think we are…

 and while it waits for a chance to make miracles,

 it cleverly spoon-feeds the body its breath,

it holds the corners of every room,

it sends us countless invitations to relax and let go.

Thankfully there come unexpected, precious moments

 when the personality sleeps

 and we stop trying so hard.

 We lose ourselves in nature, in meditation, in orgasm, in adventure, in laughter…

 and it rushes in, mends our hearts,

 effortlessly gives birth to the light,

 showing up in our world

 as insights, a sudden burst of energy, a new sense of direction.

It smiles back at us in the face of a flower.

It holds us in quiet snowfall.

 It turns the mundane into the marvelous

 and we remember that we are whole.

Giving Up Waiting

Are you waiting for something to happen so that you can be happy?

 I catch myself doing this.  We can change this.

 If we wait for the money or the health or the relationship or the home,

we are prolonging our happiness.

 If I give sincere thanks now for your happiness, your abundance, your health and vitality,

your satisfying relationships, your beautiful home…..then I give up waiting.

 And that is self sustaining.

 If you give sincere thanks for your happiness, your abundance, your health and vitality,

your satisfying relationships, your beautiful home…..then you give up waiting.

 And that is self sustaining.  

It can take less than a minute,

To stop waiting and become self-sustaining.

What if I Were Made of Clay?

What if I were made of clay and could not move or roam or play?

 I’d have to stay.

 What if my legs were solid ground, my arms were bound in dirt,

 I could not run away from things no matter how they hurt?

 I’d have to listen from this place and let my void fill up her space.

 I’d have to watch beliefs once true, diminish from the me I knew.

 Perhaps my truth would be revealed amongst the soil in the field.

 Perhaps I’d hear it right this time and move out from within this shrine.

What if I were made of clay and learned to move and roam and play?

I think I’d choose to stay.

 With so much flowing into me,

 I’d cast my line into the sea to satisfy my longing-fly.

 I’d catch desires multiplied.

What if I were made of clay and loved to move and roam and play?

 I think I’d gather up this place and make it more than just a waste.

 I’d plant the seeds of feeling good.

  I’d tend the Earth of motherhood.

 I’d walk the land that made me grow,

 inspiring change for friend and foe.

 I’d say to you from in my place,

 all filled in space that gave me grace,

 please sit with me unleashed from lines that sep’rated us before this time.

 Please sit with me, alive and free,

 our lines cast out into the sea.

 Let’s look out far into the sky and be the ones to notice why,

 all hearts not still as you and I,

 don’t see the love that floats on by,

 that goes unnoticed day by day,

 by others not so made of clay.