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Tracie Skarbo was motivated to write by her father, who was her biggest supporter. “He was always behind me, rallying me on with my writing. I would always see him with a book in hand. He gave me a great appreciation for the written word, and the power and responsibility that writers have to shape those who read their words. He also taught me to respect nature and to value the beauty within it; my reflections on my environment are just an extension of this.” Skarbo was raised on Vancouver Island and is working on her next two books.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Divine Whispers...

Recently I was asked how I thought the divine talk to us; if they even speak to us at all.  I immediately thought this a perplexing and intriguing question, worthy of meditation.  While I am not sure that this is how the divine speaks to everyone, if they speak to us at all, this is how I interpret my own experiences.

I find it is in those moments of quiet, but not necessarily when I am in a quiet room, when I hear those vibrations that so closely resemble the words of the divine.  When I am going about the chores, or the work of the day, and there is quiet in the back of my thoughts, those moments of stewing, simmering, and un-noticed pondering.  When I am on auto pilot and unconsciousness is at the helm; those moments in which my mind can hear the sound of its silence.  It is then that something will come across my vision, or a thought will come from no where.  Announcing itself, and there it is.  Yanking me from the grasp of ego and attachment and almost punching me, without effort, in its rightness. 

Those moments of ah-ha, when all resonates with pieces of the puzzle fitting together and forming more and more of the picture.  Urging me on, encouraging, that if I keep going, one foot in front of the other I am bound to connect the dots and step out of the big picture for long enough to see form in the formless.  Perhaps then it will all make sense. 

There are those dreams.  The dreams where it all seems so real, the colors so vivid that you are sure you are experiencing reality.  It doesn’t matter that you are experiencing impossibilities such as swimming underwater with the whales, or flying over the earth into the solar system, whilst it is happening it is your reality.  I wonder if this is what it would be like to be godlike; to control your own existence and that of others. 

There are times when I sit down before the keyboard and open my mind to the possibilities that abound.  Not sure of what will come, if anything.  After some time I am sitting in front of text on a page and I am not one hundred percent sure of how it got there.  I read it and I am floored by what has been created, and I cannot claim ownership to all of it. 

Others times when I sit down to meditate and my being expands to that of a neighborhood or shrinks down to the size of a molecule, again I am compelled to contemplate the world; the layers we are capable of seeing and more often what the layers we aren’t, look like.  Questioning my part in it, what my role is in this vast play of existence, and wondering if I am taking advantage of all the lessons that are presented to me.  Or if someone on the other side, is constantly putting their hands up in frustration when they see another of my blunders.  Is that just my twisted perception?  Are they even peering at us at all? 


  1. I commented on this fine little essay/meditation on Offshore, Tracie. Listening to the "small, still voice" -- the key to everything!

  2. Strange. I wrote a much longer comment on this piece at OS and thought that I had posted it, but I must have screwed up, b/c I see that it's not there. Oh, well. It was only an elaboration on what I wrote above. No big loss.

  3. Fine thoughts and words on the "play of consciousness."

  4. Thanks so much to the both of you! :)