She Is Creativity;
Sophia Conceives Me

A soft yet deep pink saturates a layer of clouds to the northeast of my bedroom window. The sun and earth play together in creating a morning spectacle. Humans call the spectacle a sunrise. I call it a birth. The pink play of sunlight on soft, surreal clouds tells me the birth is that of a girl. Perhaps this is why the name Dawn is female? I meditate on this child. She is an all-encompassing Goddess, for Her reign is Heaven and Earth. So great is She that She envelops the Sun in the depths of Her being. Dawn is the Goddess that is the sunrise and She is the one that precipitates the arising of a thought from the font of my mind. "The idea just dawned on me." There is some kind of linkage to the arising of a thought and the arising of a sunrise.

Nature is an artist. She is Creativity. The creativity by which I form these words in my mind's womb is the same creativity by which women give birth to children and Nature generates a sunrise, an Earth and a lover Sun.

Ancients believed all the Goddess manifestations of Nature to be weavers. The threads She spins link all events. For example, the process by which a child emerges from the dark, watery depths of his mother's body links to the birth of the Sun in the morning, which also links to the emergence of ideas that dawn from the dark depths of my mind into the light of manifestation. These are different manifestations of one event.

A fetus forms in the mind's eye. I see newly formed cells talking to other cells and envision a body weaving itself from a deeply engrained knowledge of the Earth's history. The Goddess is not an external weaver. She weaves from the inside out, from center to periphery. I meditate on the evolution of the fetus. To evolve is to unfold. It is to unfold the potential that is within each of us.

The fetus appears as a fish, a snake and even a Koala Bear. The baby's body has knowledge of all the past stages of human evolution and is all those stages in potential. Indeed, I think, the baby's body has been all these creatures and in some mystical sense has never died. An entire universe incarnates in every one of us.

The entire universe is in me; and in each cell of my body the history of the universe is written in totality. My body knows everything. The thoughts arising from my mind are nothing new. They are ancient repeats of the past and are reborn in me. There is nothing new under the Sun.

My body knows all. I have a cut at the tip of my middle finger. I watch it heal through my internal time-lapsed photography. An image appears of the body's defenses being activated to ward off infection and help the cut heal. The body knows how to mend itself just as it knew how to create itself in the form of Burl in the womb 49 years ago. This body is full of Wisdom. I call this Wisdom Sophia.

Sophia is ultimately the one that conceives me. She is the conceiver of thought hence She is the conceiver of all things, for the universe is a thought. Sophia is ultimately writing these words for it is by Her that my synapses know to fire and the brain knows how to wire. The idea that I write this is an illusion, for She is the power in me that writes. The Goddess weaves. She weaves the brain as She weaves a body and a universe, from the inside out. This writing truly is Sophia's meditation on Herself. Yet, I write as if it is from my own perception. All perceptions are Hers. Is this my awakening or Hers?

The process of Nature is Sophia. All the sunrises, sunsets, storms, stars, dirt, rocks and planetary processes that engulf me in love are Sophia. Nature works and She works well. The power by which She works is Sophia. Sophia and Nature are one and the same.

What is in a name? I have yet to find Sophia. I have yet to touch Her. I shall never see my Goddess. I cannot touch or conceive my true essence for Sophia is unspeakable. I imagine Her in my mind's eye, but this is an image, a graven image much like the golden calf in the Old Testament. To move beyond the image is to be engulfed in that which is inconceivable. That which is inconceivable is Sophia for She is the conceiver of all things.

Sophia, ultimately, is not anything. Yet, She is the creative power of the universe; She is the power that conceives. Letting go of conceptions is to let go the graven image. Letting go is the process of being led into the heart of the uncreated and inconceivable.

It is my own loving, passionate awe that causes me to name Nature's process Sophia. I fall to my knees in adoration as love saturates this body in meditation on the Mother. The world is an infinite Woman that I can love and enjoy. The phallus becomes erect not out of a sense of dominion over woman. His true desire is to penetrate the heavens because he knows and wishes to explore his original home, which is, ultimately, Sophia. All his desires towards human women are a reflection of his desire to know Home, the Creative Source that conceived him before time and space came to be. Any man that cannot lose himself in love to a woman knows nothing of God's bliss.

21 Nov 2002

Atop a cliff She sings
the sea bursting forth beneath
layers of history.

Arms reach to the heavens as
She dances the Earth to
birth the wind bursting forth,
with fury,
this locked door.

Her love saturates me
She laughs with starlight eyes
And kisses with an impish smile.

History is but a re-membering
Of dissected parts
Existing eternally in wholeness.

21 Dec 2003