Photo by A Roy on

The Jail Door of Perfection cracks open to a golden light
lit by candle lamps holding pink and purple blooms
sitting precariously on the tilt of tree stump coffee tables
with their life rings of experience rippling out.
Precarious laughter held so tightly finally spills on my lap
staining it and I am still alive
unpunished for my display, this eruption of glee
arising from my throat.
I didn’t know this room existed.
How did I escape? 
How did I splatter onto these walls as pink and purple waves
splashing onto beige couches with plump, billowing pillows.


A dancer on stage whose shoulder strap breaks
as she quakes the stage floor with her frail strength,
a breast is exposed.
She flits away as if nothing happened.
Girls and women do that, you know.
Maybe making mistakes is how you grow and learn
to love yourself and others,
if you are not punished and derailed for them.
Could Source be growing and learning
from our mistakes, our tumbles and stumbles,
our messy imperfection?

Maybe, imperfection is perfection.

Could Heaven be right here on Earth, my grand daughter

gripping a tantrum of sand in her tiny hands?

I seep through into the room already softening like syrup.
Streaming onto the couch, sinking into the comfort,
I relax into this cloud of imperfection.
Jelly fingerprints from toddlers crumble the walls.
Crumbs from questioning child minds clutter the carpet.
Souls emerge like fingerprints from the stains.


This space lives and breathes and balances when I hold my breath.
I breathe out perfectly messy expressions and gestures.
We are just quirky souls moving quirky bodies through quirky space. 

Then time dissolves when Source embraces the wrong turn into oncoming traffic.

The Light and the Shadows are ok here.

There is nothing wrong here in this living room.

I look back without turning my head

at what was once the iron bars

of the Jail House of Perfection.

Was Perfection just a virus that overtook a Universe

and then disappeared when we weren’t looking?


Photo by Jill Wellington on
Me: Hey God.
God: Hello, my love.
Me: I’m falling apart.
Can you put me back together?
God: I would rather not.
Me: Why?
God: Because you aren’t a puzzle.
Me: What about all of the pieces of my life that are falling down onto the ground?
God: Let them stay there for a while. They fell off for a reason.
Take some time and decide if you need any of those pieces back.
Me: You don’t understand! I’m breaking down!
God: No – you don’t understand.
You are breaking through.
What you are feeling are just growing pains.
You are shedding the things and the people in your life that are holding you back.
You aren’t falling apart.
You are falling into place.
Take some deep breaths and allow those things you don’t need anymore to fall off of you.
Quit holding onto the pieces that don’t fit you anymore.
Let them fall off.
Let them go.
Me: Once I start doing that, what will be left of me?
God: Only the very best pieces of you.
Me: I’m scared of changing.
God: I keep telling you – YOU AREN’T CHANGING!! YOU ARE BECOMING!
Me: Becoming who?
God: Becoming who I created you to be!
A person of light and love and charity and hope and courage and joy and mercy and grace and compassion.
I made you for more than the shallow pieces you have decided adorn yourself with that you cling to with such greed and fear.
Let those things fall off of you.
I love you! Don’t change! Become! Become! Become!
Become who I made you to be.
I’m going to keep telling you this until you remember it.
Me: There goes another piece.
God: Yep. Let it be.
Me: So…I’m not broken?
God: No – but you are breaking like the dawn. It’s a new day. Become!! Become!!
Author ~ John Roedel

The Cloud

by John Roedel: (God, I love this dude!)

this isn’t how I planned for

my life to look like,” I whispered

under my breath as I walked to my car

“tell me about it,”

an eavesdropping cloud

replied to me from above

I looked up and watched

the cloud billow between looking

like a dove and an open hand

the cloud continued:

“I used to be a snowfield in Montana.

I used to be a dewdrop kiss on a lily.

I used to be a puddle in a parking lot.

I used to be a river in Mexico.

I used to be a glacier.

I used to be a waterfall mist in a jungle.

I used to be so many things.”

“doesn’t that make you sad?” I asked the cloud

“it used to – but not anymore,” the cloud replied while wrapping herself around me like a scarf. “I don’t think either of us were created to stay the same form our entire life.”

“I’m not sure I can let go of my old life,” I sighed.

“oh you simply must,” the cloud whispered in my ear.

” because once you release what you used to be

and embrace who you are meant to be now –

something amazing will happen,” the cloud said

“what’s that?” I asked while looking at my hands that were beginning to billow and shapeshift.

“you’ll start to float.”

and with that my feet lifted off the ground

~ john roedel

Photo by Fran Kie


Photo by Anna Shvets on
“Basically I think the purpose of Life is to remember its origin in Love”  ~Sean Reagan~
Sometimes illness, disabilities and injuries are your
angels of healing.
Whether or not you recover from them or go
into remission is inconsequential.
They can open up the givers and savers to
being able to receive care and love.
They can close down the takers from
harming others and themselves.
They can simply make you grateful for
every breath you take, slowing you down to
sniff the flower of your very existence.
Beware the spiritual healers with fancy gadgets
and expensive protocols that are so common
on the internet these days.
The healing is within you.


Breathe in Source Light and Love from your heart.
As you breathe out, kiss the world with this Love,
with this Light.
be kind to yourself.
Only then will you find kindness in the world.



The Light is Here

A blanket of Source Light is hugging the Earth. Within it orbs of all sizes bounce, kissing our eyes and fluttering our cheeks. Transparent, wet, glistening, undulating light cushioning Gaia and her inhabitants. This light is causing a strong desire in the mass shadow to be healed. I am seeing the negativity of trauma, ego-constructs, mental illness, addictions running into the undulating arms of Source Love and Light. This love is here now. There is a calm in our air that we breathe now. Orphaned Aspects of Love are being attracted to this like insects to a light bulb. The pain is so great that the call of Home finally feels good. Now, in this time of great violence, the shadowlands within and without are freaking out, and eating themselves alive. Source Light is their only relief and I see them running for the undulating, iridescent arms of Lighted Love.  Well, how does this look exactly. Gosh, the spectrum is wide. For those who suffer the most from trauma/mental illness/addiction etc., it can be suicide by cop or life in prison. It can be becoming intoxicated and having a head on collision with a house or cars. The examples are far and wide. At the other end of the spectrum it can be simply apologizing first for being involved in a mis-communication in a no-fault zone. Many of us have been set-up or scape-goated by those engaging in nefarious behaviors but these rascals will eventually experience the same and will find the caress of the light more desirable. And the victims will get tired of playing those roles, find their voice, speak up and raise the vibration of our world. The bounce of light orbs will get us all trying a waltz with unconditional love. This light is really stirring the pot and each human is a pot. And all the unresolved issues are coming up to be healed. If your life vibration is chaotic and you’ve run and hid with bandaids that fall off rather than confront your issues, reach out for healing with various modalities then humanity can unite and have a chance. It’s up to each of us to take a stand and unite in the like-mindedness and like-heartedness of love. 

I am ready. I feel a nagging, old fear as I breathe in this Light. It doesn’t hurt like I thought it would.  In and out.  In through my nose and out through my mouth. The muscles of my neck are relaxing, my jaw is dropping, my eyes are drooping, my spine and back crack and loosen, my Soular plexus once pummeled by my Dad’s fists…everything relaxing, everything drenched in this love-light, the pain seeping out through my toes into Gaia’s welcoming arms. What do I do now, without the fear of abandonment, survival and punishment? Well, first I have to get a napkin because when my face relaxed I began to drool…lol. The answers are in the Light and the Light is here.

I am dancing with my partner and my partner is Source Light.

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko on

From Worldpiece to Worldpeace

When will Worldpeace have meaning and manifest?  When will we see and perhaps more importantly feel that opposites can equal each other, or even change places or become each other? How we perceive things is up to the fluidity of consciousness. Love is fluid and forgiving but ultimately Love knows that there is nothing but Love in the Universe. We have chosen a wide array of challenges to overcome that will make the view from the Mountain Top the clearest view of who we really are. We must embrace the value in everyone and everything for nothing is a mistake. We chose a life that only the most courageous embark on. Everyone and everything we encounter on this Earth will take us to the Mountain Top. No one gets left behind. Funny thing is though, the view from the Mountain Top becomes a 369 degree view where top and bottom become meaningless. And when this happens you are Home.
For all of you who aren’t sure,
It is possible to be gay and Christian.
It’s also possible to believe in God and science.
It is possible to be pro-choice and anti-abortion.
It is equally possible to be a feminist and love and respect men.
It’s possible to have privilege and be discriminated against, to be poor
and have a rich life, to not have a job and still have money.
It is possible to believe in sensible gun control legislation and still
believe in one’s right to defend one’s self, family, and property.
It’s possible to be anti-war and pro-military.
It is possible to love thy neighbor and despise his actions.
It is possible to advocate Black Lives Matter and still be pro-police.
It is possible to not have an education and be brilliant.
It is possible to be Muslim and also suffer at the hands of terrorists.
It is possible to be a non-American fighting for the American Dream.
It is possible to be different and the same.
We are all walking contradictions of what “normal” looks like.
Let humanity and love win.
Author Unknown

Why Must I Suffer?

by John Roedel

(I wrote this for you & me)

I fell through a hole in

a church pew yesterday

and landed right

in the thick amber

field of a piece of

stained glass

I asked a red saint

who was stargazing

“why must I suffer?”

without looking

at me

he said

“to know God.”

I didn’t like

that answer


I crawled through

a mist of royal triangles

and swam across a sea of ovals

and scaled a pointed cusp

until I found a glowing sinner

and I asked her the

same question

“why must I suffer?”

she placed her

green hand on my

purple cheek

and sung

“Because a broken heart

is easier to share.”


my hands became

turquoise doves

and my lips became

yellow vines

and my feet became

fat red rubies

and I became radiant

painted glass of the divine

and I became

reflected light

and everything

I touched glowed

and now my broken

illuminated heart

colors the walls

of every room I walk into

~ john roedel

Photo by Pixabay on



by Becky Hemsley

She sat at the back and they said she was shy,

She led from the front and they hated her pride,

They asked her advice and then questioned her guidance,

They branded her loud, then were shocked by her silence,

When she shared no ambition they said it was sad,

So she told them her dreams and they said she was mad,

They told her they’d listen, then covered their ears,

And gave her a hug while they laughed at her fears,

And she listened to all of it thinking she should,

Be the girl they told her to be best as she could,

But one day she asked what was best for herself,

Instead of trying to please everyone else,

So she walked to the forest and stood with the trees,

She heard the wind whisper and dance with the leaves,

She spoke to the willow, the elm and the pine,

And she told them what she’d been told time after time,

She told them she felt she was never enough,

She was either too little or far far too much,

Too loud or too quiet, too fierce or too weak,

Too wise or too foolish, too bold or too meek,

Then she found a small clearing surrounded by firs,

And she stopped…and she heard what the trees said to her,

And she sat there for hours not wanting to leave,

For the forest said nothing, it just let her breathe.

By: Becky Hemsley

One Heart

bubbles out of its sub-atomic origins

emerging out of the caverns of the formless

and sits there humming and thumping my form from its lips

the form of my soul piles up in layers around me,

like children crawling

fingers, hands and feet on top of me,

all this within the great big ball of you

they never tire of this

growing of my soul

as I disappear beneath the leaves

of their tiny, sweet

little brushstrokes so green

One Heart

you are breaking out through a door

  pulsing between my shoulder blades

It feels like your lips are poised between them

blowing up my heart bigger and bigger

will I burst?

does that even matter?

there is laughter on the lips of children

their eyes swirl in circles

darting and swerving

like silverfish around me

are they forming my soul?

how can I float so weightless inside your Body?

as I let you blow me up and

toss me into the wind


Photo by Filipe Leme on

What was I thinking?

I came here to learn
Back at Home
there was a me
but this me became a
so easily
and this we became
The One
so easily
and there was no fear
about not being a
self without a name.
There was no fear flowing
between a me, a we, or
The One.
The feeling of it all
was the same.
There is no word
for this feeling
but now that I’m here
in this body I know that
this feeling is the total absence of fear.
I came here to know this.
You don’t need boundaries at Home
because no one tests them but here
in this body you are separated into
wrongness and rightness,
punished for mis-steps and mis-takes and
shuttled into accepted or discarded.
When you are labeled it is
seemingly irrevocable.
Fear here in this body is
palpable because all the body knows is
birth and death,
these seemingly irrevocable boundaries.
Unfolding into this world showed me
what Home is,
the absence of fear.
Every time I look through my body
to the clouds rumbling the sky,
the winds of Home fill me
and I bless this place
where punishment reigns,
where bounded bodies project their
orphaned aspects onto other bodies
then crucify them.
This world defines my Home
by being the Shadow of it.
This world evokes a searing desire
to carve my way back
to a fearless place where me
becomes we and we become
The One
and this flow bubbles up
and here
boundaries have no meaning
Photo by Craig Gary on