the story of this painting

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Don't go outside your house to see the flowers.

My friend, don't bother with that excursion.

Inside your body there are flowers.

One flower has a thousand petals.

That will do for a place to sit.

Sitting there you will have a glimpse of beauty

inside the body and out of it,

before gardens and after gardens.

Kabir⁽¹⁾

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The Story of this Painting

It took me three hours to find my root chakra. You'd think sitting quietly, trying to focus your attention on the place where your bottom touches the cushion would be no problem. That was the beginning of meditation's dance with my delinquent thought process. It ran as if being chased by the hounds of Baskerville anywhere in my body or universe but to that place of encounter with the earth and gravity. Determination hardened my will and I stiffened up like a board with resolve to catch my mind and put it where it did not want to go. Hours passed and in taking a quick break I'd glance at a face strained with horror at my seeming inability to get "there" let alone steal a glance at what it was that was waiting in mystery when I arrived. My guide looked quite unperturbed, sitting softly, face relaxed and peaceful, gently encouraging me to continue my efforts. Perhaps it was his sweet energy that finally permeated my thick armor and coaxed me to calm down and enjoy my breath. Layer upon layer of stuff began to lift off, and my once exhausted body began to feel refreshed as it bathed in the soft autumn breeze of my winged breath. And there it was, my bottom firmly planted on the earth. Like a tree with its roots exploring the firmament I followed my breath into the unknown universes existing at the tip of my spine. I think I know the wheels of fire that Ezekiel saw, for one was at the place of my intention and others proceeded to reveal themselves as minutes, hours, two days passed. They were often gummed up with nasty looking sludge, tied with cords that led me up out of dark caves or filled with black holes. Exploring with curiosity these untouchable rank realms, I'd inevitably discover the source of these wounds and the wheel would spring to life, sending warm rivers of liquid through my veins. Melting took on a whole new meaning. Sitting quietly became the adventure of my life.

This winged lady of the universe evolved as a meditation piece to honor this epic journey. She reflects that paradox of the awakening heart where life's energy unfolds like a blooming flower joyfully reaching out to welcome the sun. In that same moment she is enfolded in the loving wings of a great bird that promises eternal peace.

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And then thou canst repose between

the wings of the Great Bird

Aye, sweet is rest between the wings

of that which is not born nor dies

but is Aum throughout

eternal ages.

from The Voice of the Silence, Blavatsky⁽²⁾

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1. Kabir, The Kabir Book, p.47

2. Blavatsky, The Voice of the Silence.