The feeling of truth

I wrote this for you the other day. It’s for me too.


When you feel defeated, change your shape.

When you feel weak, take your power back.

When you feel sad, cry. 

When you feel angry, dematerialize.

When you feel lost, look in the mirror.

When you feel alone, open your eyes.

When you feel frustrated, just sit back and listen.

When you feel like you might not matter,

don’t worry, nobody does!

This world is made of streams and we are inside of all of them. 

So just try the best you can. Because the best you can is good enough!

We cannot solve, resolve or make sense of most things. We don’t need to think so much but rather to go blank more often. Nothing needs to change. Create more space. Be a bigger vessel to hold it all.

Rather than talk, just be.

Rather than preach, just sing.

Because the truth, I have found –

isn’t a word, but a feeling. 


that feeling is very big.

? Sharada Devi 

25 thoughts on “The feeling of truth”

  1. Beautiful and True. Thank you. I think of you ❤️ I smile and remember your smile. ?
    I sing and remember your heart, your love and the space that we shared there.
    with great love
    and so much gratitude,
    Durga Devi ?

    1. Thank you, you’re the sweetest!
      I hope all is well with you two!

      ?❤️? is the neverending story…

      so I’ll see you soon!

  2. I’ve got
    to say, you are really pretty, in your writing. It is so rarified, and subtle and I’m not sure why. I’m going to go back and read it, but I really liked it. Simple, beautiful, I am going to tell you a poem I thought of this morning that the Shri Anandi Ma video made me think of:

    Could you touch a ray of light?
    That is the beauty I see, from you,
    because I am in the dark.

    That poem is cute and all but it’s NOTHING compared to the depth and subtlety of you and your writing. It is a drop in the ocean you are floating in, beautifully, purposefully yet aimlessly until devotion strikes. I secretly love you.

    1. I’m writing a story about two ghosts and their hunger pangs- which that ray of light poem reminded me of…

      Here’s a tiny part of what’s going on with that – but as you know I’ve got a lot of stories going on right now…only some I’m writing down…just like how you can’t see the dark that’s watching you from inside the light or you can’t find the light inside the dark. Nevertheless, it’s all there. Anyway, all I know is ghosts are real. I’m with them and I am half of one.

      “He was still. He was like a rock holding something down. She was almost transparent as if she were being washed away by something she could not stop. Was it God, was it grief – was it him, quietly near her…”

      You may see that this is a love story. How could it not be. In the graveyard and not totally dead yet. Ghosts, don’t die until they let go. And then that’s not death but freedom to enter the door of everlasting light.

      We search. We search. Do you think death makes ghosts? I don’t. I think hunger pangs do.

      1. I love it; never thought ghosts so interesting, but can’t wait, for more- probably because of the ghost side of me, that was in the dark.

  3. I love the softness in this. Like feeling a warm breeze, with your eyes closed. Inhaling. Smiling. Your words remind me again to trust the unknown and free fall gently back into those tiny cracks….sometimes hard to find, those spaces where gravity will take us, if we will just let go long enough. Thank you always, for the encouragement.
    Loved, You are. ?

    1. Remember that little poem you wrote me on that tiny piece of paper with the baby bird feather you put on it?

      I still have it. Between the pages of a book about the power of devotion.

      Which is soft and yielding and relentless as well…just like you?

  4. envision
    that , which nothing can undo
    There ; is where one weaves a Holy garment
    with the thread that runs so true

  5. Be the silence that the words dance around: you ARE it. How can you BE it when you are ALREADY it? You ARE the empty sky that walks and talks, wails and kvetches, sings to fellow worthy kings and queens, makes a fool outta you and everybody else, has an image to be seen as Maya and an image to smile lovingly at. Yet underneath, you’re the same nothingness that connects us all to all of it. It’s your home. It’s YOU. ❤

  6. Beautiful Big Space of Consciousness in us all, allow our song (non corny kind, of course) to sing that transformative song of being HERE. ❤<— another one.

  7. “When you feel weak take your power back.”


    There is a solution to every single problem of existence. There is not one problem of existence without a solution. In moments of being in a bad mood we more than likely do NOT want to hear this. I know I don’t. Moods of Luna which we are subject to are powerful. For that which uplift us and for that which brings us down. That said, We are nature and nature is Us. We are the solution to the perceived problem of existence at any given measurement of time-space. It ROCKS. Because the moment is SO, by definition, not of time.

    Time is this totally cosmic thing.

    It’s all good news. Yet what can light be without dark? Or dark without light? Bad news? No. Good news. Good news is the fail-safe underpinning of Reality.

    Maybe I gotta heed my own words…

    Anyway. Rock that action that takes you from your troubles. You have the power because you ARE. Always.

    1. A moment I am sharing

      I am remembering to catch the rays of this coming Springtime Sun. Oh yeah…Feels really very invigorating.

      As it were…

      So just be in it.
      Forget about all ya troubles. They’ll be there to bother you and laugh at you with all their meanness soon enough.
      For now just BE. And do. And be. Do. Be. Do. Be. Yeah I know what THAT sounds like.

  8. reaching out at arms length
    i graze over what lies , there
    sifting over that which is smooth
    and that which is rough
    landing upon the particles
    that suit my touch
    and settling on their acceptance
    carefully / carelessly
    picking up the bits that do not feel good
    then ever so gently
    tossing them away

  9. This aforementioned special flashlight
    I saw mentioned earlier
    This could be light
    That is somewhere
    Focused on something
    To give radiance from that Something
    Giving radiance
    A thing around about now and then
    It makes me smile for a
    Happy Inner Smile
    A warm bathing in radiant joyful



    A basketball.


    A basketball?

    Yeah. Anything.

    It’s around and it’s round.

    An airplane, even.

    A piece by Shostakovitch.
    Or John Lennon.
    Or Laurie Anderson.

    Those are all Somethings.

    Because it’s all just stuff you think of.


    Use your special flashlight.

    Focus in.

    Defocus, after that.

    Use your special flashlight. It’s light.

    And just smile. It’s really easy. And it’s real. And it’s safe because it’s no big deal. Real deal. Deal with the real. That’s what they say, no?

    Have fun with this light. It sheds itself on dark while dark is always, always there. Fun times.

  10. Yes, Sharada Devi.
    For one
    To think less
    Is so very, very good.
    To go blank more often.
    Is so very, very good.
    Because heart dissolves
    Even the most Excruciating
    Thought and
    Feeling and
    Heart is Infinite.
    Because though it feels Vulnerable and Finite
    And it IS vulnerable
    And Finite
    It expands with
    So then we need to
    That pain
    We create
    Good Musical Vibrations

  11. Truth:
    Just a space.
    That’s interesting!
    There’s so much in between.
    That which we have held like hands that intertwined. The Universe does co-create with us many ways of overlap.

    If energy is constant—yet, always changing—it can never be relied on to be the same. It’s our lesson to surrender and trust it is just Maya. We just are. This just is. My senses detect on the costumes: the seams and the make-up of the threads of things. My eyes stick out in the thick of things.

    What I can see is that Goddess has our back the whole time. She gives us the lessons. And Maha Khal. He loves the storm. He pierces the night with lightning and it lights up all that is hidden.

    I realize eye asked for it burning the Mother box. We asked for it raising kundalini so high.

    There is sow much in between.

    I found hurt in the garden. She’s beautiful in all the ways she desires to bloom. And she’s twisted, like the vines. I want to praise her anyway. It’s not a curse to see both sides of things.

    Sometimes you just have to face it. I felt like boldness is the level I have chosen. I am hurt she chose the lie. It was so dark. She smiles all the time. It looks so easy. I am in my own dream. My light still catches on her wings.

    I don’t really want my wings caught on the space in-between. Something bit my heart. The desire for closure seems like a mudpit. Where are those lotus seeds. Sow deep.

    Where is what it holds in the dream? It seems far away. So I begin again always both the same and different. Not really ever indifferent. Om purnamadah chant. It’s a circle. It doesn’t stop revolving whether we are awake or dreaming.

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