Tag Archives: hope

Climbing the Staircase: Rising Up, Rising Above

April 19, 2012   Krista Moore   No comments

Climbing the staircase - Glascow


This morning I awoke at 6:30am and wrote, clear but bleary-eyed, still lucid. I wrote a dream I had about a large hotel with glass walls and a large stairway rising up. I was going to see a friend who was there, waving to me from above. She was on the 11th floor.  When I got to the top, I realized you could see down, past her room railing, down to every other level below. I am a little scared of heights, but in a dream it was “no biggy”.  There were people there, doing things, performing, dancing, singing, and my friend was busily preparing herself for a guest. I was watching her from my own perspective, fascinated with all the people and activity.

What was I doing there? 

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The Buzz of Adventure

September 29, 2011   Krista Moore   No comments

I watched a documentary on Nostradamus tonight. I am a sucker for historical documentaries, and I love a mystery. But it didn’t have the same effect on me as it would have in the past. I was not afraid. I suppose it is easier to believe in death and destruction, to watch the news and chastise each other. But I won’t tonight. I’m not at war with myself anymore. Right now, peace fills my mind. If it takes forever to get it, that’s all it takes to make up this mind.

As we witness to so much fear and insecurity in this world of chaos, we adventure to know ourselves better, to build new life based on truth, not dire warnings and “facts”.

It is spring in the minds of many, who see fall not as end, but beginning.  The rays of the mind’s day keep me warm at night, buzzing with new adventures and life.

There is no war in ourselves, we are safe to explore. No dynasty to pursue. Only what’s true. The traveler’s path is wide. Our knowledge may be thin, but our collective wisdom vast. We must not go it alone, but venture together if we are to find our true path.I feel the heart’s passages in the heart’s mind, written for all time,  just in time, in no time at all.

We are on this path. We wear our backpacks bouncing with promise (and pens!).  We chant hymns. We seek the sky at night. We foresee great adventure and everlasting joy.

This may be an idealist’s story, but my vision is not just my own. It surfaces everywhere in the collective mind. It is the eternal ray of light, not of fire but of Life.

I feel the buzz of New Life crackling out of the old. Whatever has been saved is now mine to hold. Much like with archaeology or ancestry, the old is not forgotten or denied, but something new shines forward. It has to. That is our job now. Our collective cradle if you will. Ironically, it is the most solid stance from which to begin.

We are fortunate to live from this place. To have the permission, the passion, the fire in us that won’t go away. I am stirred to be the one to tell it, sing it, believe in it, shape it and mold it into being. I am grateful to share it with those who want it more than anything that has gone before. To open that door… That is all we are up to. That is all any of us, if we are honest, really wants anymore.

Ahh, to take up permanent residence through the Heart’s door.

Mmmm…… Isn’t it sublime to be You at last?
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Day 21: The Miracle is You

June 13, 2011   Krista Moore   1 Comment

I mean that literally. The Miracle is You. I’m not being generic or metaphoric or universal in any way. For the first time, I really get it.

I sang through the weekend doing the birthday thing, kids running amok, appreciating my family, getting uptight and nervous about the quantity of young guests, the unanticipated sleepover, the never-ending hangover of more guests on Sunday. The joy of an unusual full family dinner.

Now, as I swing back to my beloved friends of this blogging world, I get this sudden feeling of  connectivity, reciprocity, understanding…

This is not just about me. This is about You. The miracle that happens to me is the same miracle that happens to you. What I write, you also live. What you live, I somehow write. How does this happen? How does this miracle happen to us both at the same time, echoing each other? You may think, How did you know that? How did you say exactly how I was feeling at this moment in time? How did you say it just like that so that it sung to my heart, spoke from my true understanding, something I hadn’t even put into words before? This is all new to me too.

All I know is, I am doing this with you…

It is a chorus, a harmony, an absolute symphony. I love to write, and you hear my voice. But you don’t just hear me, you hear You! This is bizarre. Amazing. I am singing your song as much as I am singing mine. Maybe we are singing the same song!

I am honoured to be the one putting down the words because it is easy for  me. As Lady GaGa says, “I was born this way!” But maybe for the one who is tongue-tied or whose heart is torn apart, and can’t even begin to know how to express ‘that’, I am their God-send. Literally. That is not arrogant. As Marianne Williamson says echoing A Course in Miracles, it is not arrogant to recognize your God-given talents and use them. It is humble to witness their impact, to see God’s work at hand. To fall down on your knees and say, Thank you for using me at last!

Thank you.

Thank You for being here, for listening, for understanding, for being, for responding. Thank you for singing your chorus, your harmony. Your wave of passion, happiness, devotion.  I love our evolving collaboration, our co-witnessing each other, our evolutionary striving for something greater. An awakening of seismic proportions. Beyond Katerina, Beyond tragedy. This is the response to all of that. This is the Hope. The Dream. The Great Call to Freedom at last! This isn’t about race, sex, age or religion. This transcends all borders and boundaries we ever thought we had. This is Love itself calling to our own Selves. We are recognizing ourselves in each other’s greatness. We are witnessing the possibility of what we can be together.  Supporting each other in the Climb that has  nothing to do with ceilings or enemies or friends. This is wider, deeper, faster and more incredible than anything we ever thought we were or had. This is the mountain without peak, the river without end…

Dear God, make us Great. Make us tall. Make us realize our own potential in each other’s eyes. Let us witness and make a pact: Never again will we act small, pretend we don’t know anything. Hide in the branches of our own greatness, only to swing when we are alone. Let us join our hands. Clasp on for dear life. Let’s sing our hearts out in this, our Collective Song.

There’s no denying when you’ve heard the Call.

There’s no denying when a Miracle is born.

Thank you, God for hearing mine.

Amen.

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Day 19: Gratitude, My Tiny Listless Friend

June 09, 2011   Krista Moore   No comments
beloved

beloved*

This is what came to me while silencing the creeping need to fret away the time…  a moment of grace in a busy day.

GRATITUDE

I am exposed
Half  hairs showing
Fingernails too long
Guff and scarred
But still growing
I am not a mystic warrior
With supporters beckoning from behind
I need to assert myself
Delve in
Not mistake countenance
for sustenance
 Not for a moment forsake
The purpose I am here.
 I need to keep going
Offering up
Hands bent back and afraid
- And  yet -
The frightened stares of my intellect
Are no match
For my tiny, listless Friend.

Why is this called gratitude? It occurred to me too. A little strange, but somehow true. All that chaotic intellect shining and getting in the way; all the competing voices yelling this way – no, that-a-way! All the uncertainties with puffed chest standing in the way…

And yet, this voice comes. This voice that tells you no, not that way.  You are here for a reason. All this will go away. Keep writing. Keep going, though your neck be too long, or your will not that strong. Keep fighting past the insecurities that time throws in the way. It will all go away.

And in the meantime, when you are silent, and no one is around, this voice will find you.  Your one, true, tiny and listless Friend. She will comfort you. She will ring true. She will be your one true confider, who will tell you: it won’t be long now. Just keep going.

The world awaits you.

Amen.

*This work is part of a poetry collection Krista has published on Amazon called “Song of the Beloved”.  The First edition is now available on Kindle, but it is continually being updated.

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Day 15: Haley Sings to the Mountaintops

June 06, 2011   Krista Moore   4 Comments

Tonight one of my guilty pleasures was watching Shania Twain recover her voice in her show, “Why Not? with Shania Twain” on OWN.  It reminded me of my own transition, from when I felt on top of the world, to feeling I had lost everything. I felt so humiliated, so scared, the last thing I wanted to do was admit it to a close personal friend (let alone the world). I didn’t know how to rebuild who I thought I was (my ego) with who I was now (my home). I couldn’t reconcile my dreams with what I had become. It felt like an impossible compromise.  I was paralyzed.

Until I found my voice: Uncertain, strong, uncompromising; softly at first it rose, in the middle of the night. Out of the treetops it seemed to sing; quietly it whispered in my sleep, or wildly it cried in vain. But it rose just the same…

I wrote it all down. Every last detail, feeling, thought. I never shared with anyone, always alone. My private sanctuary from the world. Then it changed: only a few were allowed to hear, my private cries or my wild hidden voice that would spring out onto the page, sometimes delightful and poetic, sometimes irreverent and funny. It gave others pleasure to hear my voice or read my words and many encouraged me. This was a whole new world to me. My private sanctuary was crumbling.

Now, as I listen to those who write back to me, I am dumbfounded. I can hardly believe that anyone is listening, or that my words carry a piece of their heart as well. That our collective “song” rings true.

Sometimes I am an eagle, soaring high. I don’t care what other people think. I look down on the landscape and feel the wind in the trees, and I float easily over all, effortlessly. Something carries me. And the song just comes with it, effortlessly. Other times I am the sparrow, easily broken by ambiguous or harsh testimony.  I am human.

Haley is my song, the script I am working on at the moment.  I hope it comes as easily as my mountaintop expressions, spontaneously sung to the wind. But sometimes it doesn’t.  It needs a little more care than that. A little more structure. I am not used to the accountability of sharing. I am learning.

Shania will recover her voice – there’s no question. It’s scripted that way. But our story remains.

Some are broken by life; others will find their voice again. Whatever your broken-winged voice can’t say…  please, sing it anyway.

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Healing Women

November 15, 2010   Krista Moore   No comments

Last week I was in rough shape. I had been struggling for awhile, doing everything “right”:  Taking my vitamins, going to the gym, maniacally trying to control everything. But I couldn’t control myself. I just wasn’t feeling right. And I had twisted my neck getting out of bed. I was down on my knees (though I couldn’t even pull that one off). I knew I needed a miracle.

What do we do when we’ve already done everything?  We pray. And what if that doesn’t work?

We call the doctor.

The day was sunny and the drive quite pleasant. Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe it was hope smiling on me again. I waited patiently as I listened to her laugh inside the room where she was seeing another patient. I flipped through the  magazines and felt the nervousness in my tummy. Also, excitement.  I knew that this was just one step in a long chain of new events. And I had taken the first one.

Hopeful songs were swirling round my head as I waited, until I saw her come out of her office to greet me. She smiled and hugged me.  Now I remembered why I had come.

We said a lot of things in that room, but the most important thing she said is this:

“Remember, asking for help is not being a failure. You have taken a proactive step.”

Then she commended me for my vigilance in trying to do it all on my own. She reminded me that no one can. She told me about how she almost died the previous year from flesh eating disease but thankfully was saved; and how her husband had a massive coronary. She is now committed to a better quality of life and semi-retirement.

My visit reminded me that doctors are human. And, the best of doctors know this. Extending love and care is just as healing as the balms and potions they may serve.  All potions are temporary; Love is the only miracle cure.

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The Rooster’s Call

November 09, 2010   Krista Moore   2 Comments

I was given a rooster the other day. My neighbor collects them – actually, she collected two;  the rest were involuntarily given on birthdays and other holidays. Since they are moving soon, she let my daughter and I pick one.  I was going to pick the tall, fragile ceramic one with cracks all through it – quite antique looking. But no, my daughter picked the bright, cheerful one, standing quite sturdily, lower to the ground, and with head turned upright and cock-feathers proudly fanned.

Once we got it home, I perched the rooster up on our hallway ledge, high above the door.  We have yellow walls and skylights, so I thought it appropriate that the rooster be close to the sun. I didn’t realize that I had inadvertently placed him perfectly positioned to be peaking around the corner at the tiny sun mirror I had hung on the adjacent wall, so that he could crow at it every morning.  I was so pleased by this tiny accident that I clapped my hands like a little girl.

Out of curiosity, I looked up the meaning of Rooster in a book I have called Animal Speak: The Spiritual & Magical Powers of Creatures Great & Small by Ted Andrews. We all know what it “means” in terms of sexuality, but this is what I instinctively knew:

“Every morning the sun resurrects itself, and the cock heralds this resurrection…  The cock is extremely vigilant in its activities… and many believe that this is a reminder to be vigilant in keeping things of the spirit first… A rooster can stimulate a new sense of optimism.”

I took a deep breath when I read this, as if some magical power had been handed me.  After carrying my low spirits around like a sack of potatoes, this was welcome news.

Perhaps that is why I decided to start this blog, as my own heralding of the dawn – a collection of days when I see the light within myself and others and in the world around me.  A miracle is really a recognition of what is right in the midst of what may seem so very wrong. Out of the darkness comes the sun. The rooster is vigilant and never gives up his post.  And so shall I set up mine and send out my wild and noble call.

Like the rooster on my ledge, may this “Little Book of Miracles” be a present to you as well.  I hope it lights your day, brings you comfort at night; and is a constant reminder to keep looking to all that is good, and all that is to come.

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