David & Deborah.jpgTruth in self is hard to find.

Knowing oneself is shaped by our step and fall

like a child forever learning to walk

on a path where truth hides behind rocks,

and to love, a merging into one-kind-of-love

is like finding our balance at the edge of a cliff,

a cliff-hanger hold on to dear life, if only it is

that easy to know self in the other

and the other in the self,

a mirror truth that finds the balance

in difference, to let go is supreme love

that finds love through the emptying of self.





A pause between songs, a rest for contemplation,

And the next movement is never an empty space

But the breath of life is a signature on the sand.

No doubt, you were here, but the wind swept

the sand away into another world.

You have filled the void with memories,

so the music of your other presence

fills the air I breathed.

There was no yesterday nor tomorrow,

only the call for awakening

to honour each precious moment.

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Our Crossroads

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A page turns,
life’s crossroads.
Pointless to dwell on the past,
it’s gone like the wind, like a twinkle, like stardust.
Look up and walk your dream.
Dreams are borderless,
they let you fly the limitless sky.
Who knows about tomorrow?
Better embrace the surprise, the mystery, the unknown.

The Unknowable comes in various guises to teach us,
then we find ourselves in the space
mirroring what was, what is,
what will become.

Like a passing breeze

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Like a passing breeze, I visited places, south islands of Philippine memories, including worlds I have not seen, away from the cacophony of Metro Manila’s city sounds, away from cars spewing grey smoke, away from pedestrians weaving their leaden bodies between cars and trucks and motorbikes enveloped by grey smog, but on these islands, I found myself in tropical paradise, reading peace on country people’s faces, their eyes clear as air, no discourse on happiness required when I meet the eye of joy in their souls.

Slash, slash that clears the land, making way for seeds of new life, their umbrella hats protecting their heads from the burning sun, I found myself communing with nature, watching a happy team weed out wild ground to regenerate new life, just like us when we leave our material horizon to regenerate, and be one with the mother and father of our heart of hearts, for in our earthly life, we bleed and ache, and seek the closing of the gap of the seemingly unbridgeable chasm of our imagined incompleteness.

So in my flight, I heard my soul sing like a passing breeze kissing the islands of my birthplace before returning across the seas to the island continent, both ancient and novel, that had been my nest for a long time —my home in the autumn of my life where through regeneration, my children and grandchild too will one day experience clearance of their material maternal ground of being, and it will be their turn to be transformed into conscious dwellers of islands of sweet memories, flying imperceptibly, visiting places like a gentle passing breeze.

  • Deborah Ruiz Wall

Josefina, Ozamiz, Mindanao, Philippines, February 2014

The horse and the rider


What’s within, what’s beneath the horse’s hooves?

How to read the twitch of his eyes, the tremor,

the tremble, the pause?

The rider mounted, a little nervous.

The rider feels her horse’s emotion,

the horse feels his rider’s emotion.

They connect with each other’s heart,

soul, and inner core.

They have embraced in action

the meaning of presence and interchange,

their spirit flowed into one another,

each becoming the other,

their individual definition

melting away.

They feel safe.

He, the horse; the horse, she

fused into One.

Where is being, the state of seeing?

…it galloped into infinity.


The Kimberley landscape: inscribed art

The Kimberley landscape mesmerises. I feel its heartbeat. Like us, it is alive. Look from within and you will hear its story that is inscribed on the land. It calls the person who walks on the land to feel its pulse and tune into its beat. No need to ‘interpret’ when the experience mirrors your soul. We are part of nature. We are called to recognise who we really are.


Natural rock art

meditation-in-motionTown Beach


Roebuck Bay

 Photos & text: Deborah Ruiz Wall

In quest of the Narrative

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Narratives abound, compelling, competing tales

of triumphs and woes, all in a race to close the circle

and comprehend how we all tie in.

Nature is not beyond skin, we are an integrated whole

but we struggle to find peace amongst ourselves.


Where is the star to help us recover our path —


the language of laws, the rules that states construct

for nations to follow, the imposition of border control

that allows us a glance through a small window

the chance to catch a ray of sunlight?


Little people swim in a fish bowl of fabricated worlds,

their voices suppressed and a wall mounted to bar

free spirits from the quest to find themselves…


the self, the anchor to families, the clans,

the people embraced (according to our Indigenous Mother)

by the Land and the Oceanic life underneath.


Who are we deep down?


The abyss echoes a tiny voice:


It is not for any of us to decide who can or cannot enter

the circle of privilege, or tamper with the breath of life

gifted by the Absolute.


Stories and myths vie for our attention now.

We are driven within to trace our past,

to find our deepest meaning.


When our vision fades from self-inflicted chaos,

the future beckons from the stillness of our soul

that it is time for all in one

to bridge the knowledge/spirit gap

and vanquish the chasm that attempts

to annihilate all faith and hope.


Our breath of life must never exhaust

our potential for the fullness of growth.


Life, a gift, is precious.


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I am

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I ride the wave.

I walk the space.

I fly like the eagle.

I am the cloud.

When I feel your deepest reach,

outlines of myself disappear from view.

When I dance the dance

you choreograph for me,

my given name loses its potency.

Your call drowns all sound.

Your presence permeates all life.

Heaven needs no definition.

Mind games deconstruct.

I wake up with your eyes.

I become the joy of song,

the breath of Creation!