Dharmasphere » Psychology http://dharmasphere.org The change is coming Tue, 31 May 2011 13:08:41 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.2 waitinghttp://dharmasphere.org/2005/11/12/waiting/ http://dharmasphere.org/2005/11/12/waiting/#comments Sat, 12 Nov 2005 17:45:31 +0000 Lavanya http://www.dharmasphere.org/?p=112 Continue reading →]]> waiting

In the silver forest of my mind you sit and wait for me my Lord
You have waited lifetimes

The great white oaks that surround you dance in the full yellow moon and sing of Your Love.
You draw near to me, you’re endless; stretching out in time and space.

My attention to this moment recalls my joy and pain; I surrender at Your feet.
How can I master the complexities of my mind, so easily forgetting You?

Within this I am wavering on the surface of existence.
I want to be fully awake

In the urban jungle of my world you sit and wait for me my Lord.
You will wait lifetimes.

]]> http://dharmasphere.org/2005/11/12/waiting/feed/ 3 Master of the pixieshttp://dharmasphere.org/2005/10/19/master-of-the-pixies/ http://dharmasphere.org/2005/10/19/master-of-the-pixies/#comments Wed, 19 Oct 2005 22:12:53 +0000 Lavanya http://www.dharmasphere.org/2005/10/19/master-of-the-pixies-2/ Continue reading →]]> It all started with an idea.

The drama escalating with a Persil smelling bed sheet, Auntie Margaret and me… somewhere.

The persona of a young woman:
paraded and stuffed,
dressed and made-up.

The denial of womanhood, the rites of passage and me…somewhere.

The play continues.

I stood swirling above myself:
green tights,
pointed ears,
and blushed cheeks.

My own private audience, Master of the Pixies, Auntie Margaret and me…somewhere.

]]> http://dharmasphere.org/2005/10/19/master-of-the-pixies/feed/ 1 Shehttp://dharmasphere.org/2005/04/20/broken-toy-kitchen/ http://dharmasphere.org/2005/04/20/broken-toy-kitchen/#comments Wed, 20 Apr 2005 20:08:02 +0000 Lavanya http://www.dharmasphere.org/2005/04/20/clare/ Continue reading →]]> It’s difficult to suddenly watch a person change in front of your eyes.

Yesterday I experienced the essence of a person I thought I knew swirl into chaos.

She whirled around Chorlton, her flat, this house in her ripped skirt; I could not take my eyes of her ripped skirt, it seemed to signify something for me, for her.

She was the archetype of the gypsy women, wild and free, the child, innocent and fragile, the warrior who could save the world, the lover longing to merge.

I was drawn into her seductive world of the dream state, she spoke in a language that I once recognised in myself – up, up and up she went and I went with her.

She had a broken toy kitchen hidden in the depths of her heart with her microwave and bins

She stopped the traffic

She spoke of the world

She was beautiful

Today she was taken into hospital, there she will rest until her toy kitchen mends.

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