My One HOME in Two Worlds

It’s good to have this beauty back home. Back in my shrine. I lent it to friends for a while because I wanted her LOVE to touch more people. But I missed her. And now she is back home.

 

My sanctuary is ONE place bridging two worlds. The first world is my art studio, where I give birth to what pours from the Divine through my rough hands on God’s canvas. I am just a humble instrument, a grateful sailor of the Flow.

 

The second world is the temple I feel in my heart. The spacious vibrating place that no other word than HOME could describe better. That place of NO FEAR, no worries, no time, no resentments, no judgement. That place where I can come back to when the world around is crumbling, birthing pains are accentuating, truth seems like a conspiracy and acceptance of lies is a common norm. In those times the Temple in my heart still feels completely untouched by any of that madness.

 

 

I wish I could dwell in that non-physical aspect of Home all the time. Because in that place the “I” that is concerned about so many worldly things just vanishes. But I am still a human with monkey mind, a student in taming, a child-artist with wild passions. Sometimes, when I’m lucky and settled enough, I can cross the SILVER BRIDGE and dwell in that Eternal Spring of Love even during the day, listening to the rain fall on the roof, oblivious to the mass Fear Hypnosis playing out on the Earth Truman show.

Late in the evening, as the building goes silent, when I am finally satisfied with the work I have done for the day, I give the fruits of my day’s efforts one last and long scrutinizing look, thinking of what needs to be done tomorrow. Then I wipe my brushes, arrange my working area and swipe the floor. Then I unroll my yoga mat, hit the play button on my 528Hz playlist, switch off the lights and light up the candle.

 

Nobody is typically here (in any neighboring studios) at that time. Just me, the solo voyager whose social life is as sparse and random as appearance of a anything with flavor of truth in the mainstream media. This is my coming HOME time. I finally feel at peace, and I feel hugged and welcome.

I stretch my body in whatever way it needs to be stretched. Sometimes in namaskara sequences, mostly in spontaneous poses I feel that my vehicle needs. Then I sit on my meditation cushion and reach out to my Tibetan singing bowl. It’s tuned to the heart chakra and ornamented with beautiful art. I bought it in Rishikesh, and it was chosen by one of my teachers, beautiful Chris, who was the first one ever to reveal my true identity to me. Each time I hold it, the sweetness of that memory engulfs my being.  The vibration of the sound soothes my soul and my thoughts go instantly on stand-by.  I put out the final sound of the bowl by placing it on my chest and I reach out for the slightly worn-out pile of papers on the floor, next to my crystals and Orgonite pyramid. These are my prayers. Invocations of Divine Grace, prayers of Transmutation and Gratitude. And the one that I’ve been reading out loud a lot lately: Soul Contract Revocation for the Divine Masculine. That is the most powerful reading that I have found for myself in past years.

When I’m done with prayers, I blow out the candle and sit in darkness and silence. Everything is off. My wi-fi router, my phone, even my fridge. The silence is only disturbed by occasional rustle of a mouse, but that is part of the HOME and falls into the same silence. I don’t know how long I sit. As long as is needed. Sometimes for half an hour, sometimes over an hour. Sometimes I’m basking in the glory of God in the Timeless Boundless Love, sometimes I just watch my thoughts pass by, constant visitors to whom I pay as little attention as I can.

Always coming back to the breath. The only guiding post I need on my way back Home. The Home that is ONE but bridges two of my worlds.

I hope to see you all at Home one glorious day. It is 11:55 as I type this. How beautiful.

So much Love,

Raphiel (soon to come).