Saturday, December 20, 2008

Pie in my face

just when i think,
mistakenly,
that
i'm blessed with some sort of spiritual standing
i manage to slam a metaphorical cream pie
in my own face.

as some of you know and some of you don't,
my biological father makes choices...
has made choices...
continues to make choices...

that I judge.

Why do I judge him? Why should I?

I was adopted by my mother's second husband. I have written about him before.
Advanced Education, highly successful, polished, well-respected, high expectations.
He worked hard to provide for my sister and me.
That is who I was raised by.

My father, who's DNA I share, did not attain these same accolades.

And so, I have spent my life
judging him
as
not
acceptable.

What would Jesus do?
What would Love do?
What would Life do?
What would I do?

What would I do......

The other day, I received an email from my dad's ex-girlfriend.
She told me that my dad,
who is living in Flagstaff in a hotel
still drinking
did not want to talk to me because I would tell him what to do.
"Chew his ass", as he says it.

I was wrankled.
Thinking....
all I do is care about him!
all I do is try!
all I do is reach in the face of silent apathy!
all I do
is try to make him who I want him to be.

Get Sober.
Get a job.
Read a book.
Try harder.
Get on the internet.
Call someone.
Do s o m e t h i n g.

Be someone other than who you are right now.
You are not ok with me.


I called him.

and
unleashed
my
14 year old
adolescent
pissed off
unrelenting
hurtful
holier-than-thou
opinions on him.

So, I guess he was right

after all.


This relationship with my father, though often in the background of
my "real" life, is one that continues to challenge me in many ways.
It has affected my experiences of

men
emotional security
addiction
family
acceptance
rejection
satisfaction
self-esteem

me.

I'm almost 42 years old, and I'm still figuring this out.


Later, I called my sister and she listened
while I cried
wondering why he just doesn't love me
enough to be everything he could be
for me.

And my fury, my lack of acceptance, my anger
started to make sense.

Pie in my face
I humbly acknowledge that I am yet a child
longing to be loved
by her
father.

I'm sorry I yelled at you dad.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Response to outrage at Obama's Inaugural choice.

Why did he choose Rev. Warren for the opening of the inauguration?
I have a few thoughts on it, the first of which has to do with one of the main reasons that I was attracted to Obama as my president in the first place.

In 2004, when a nationally unknown Obama spoke at the Democratic National Convention, he initiated a dialogue that he culminated in his recent presidential acceptance speech in Chicago.This is not a country divided by political party. It is not a nation colored by red or blue; not place separated by moral stance, socio-economic position,color, religion, or orientation. This is the United States of America, and each person, regardless of whether they hold views that oppose our own, are equal, valuable members of this nation.

I see Obama's choice as a reaching out, once again, to a person that he respects as a human being. An American. A symbolic gesture to speak clearly that Obama recognizes that though he holds positions passionately, he realizes that they are not the only positions held by Americans. He acknowledges that he does not agree with Reverend Warren on various issues, but that he does on others, and that they agree to respectfully honor one another's positions.

This radical idea, that we can all live together as a united and mutually respectful people of Americans with unique and differing perspectives is being highlighted symbolically in Obama's choice of Reverend Warren. What is not being talked about is his choice of the pastor that will close the inauguration. Obama chose Reverend Joseph Lowery, a veteran of the civil rights movement, a pastor who has worked tirelessly to unite people and lift up those who have experienced judgement and oppression.

Earlier today, I heard a perspective on these pastoral choices that I find poignant and relevant. Perhaps Obama chose Reverend Warren to open his inuaguration to reach out in acceptance to "where we currently are as a nation". Reverend Warren, though working to acknowledge our nations failure to deal with poverty, maintains a strict, right-wing moral stance on issues related to a woman's right to choose and on a person's right to choose whom to love. Some would consider these ideas divisive. That is where we are now.

Then, he chose Reverend Lowery to close the ceremony - a symbolic movement to show where Obama wants to take us in the next four years -- to acceptance. to peace. to gentleness. to non-judgement. To equality as an American people.

Is this his motive?
I don't know.
I do think it's meaningful
and inspiring.

So, do I think it's hypocritical that Obama chose, to swear him in as President of the United States of America, a person that differs widely from himself on matters significant to the people of this country?

No.

I think it's beautiful.
I think it's brilliant.
I think it's poignant.
I think it's unifying.

And I think it's long overdue.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Background

MacKendzie

sweet kitty girl

sweet high pitched incessant demanding
meows
the softest
snow white and ebony
fur
enveloping
simply
an
elf

an independant
confident companion
draping her limbs
over couch backs and window sills

while I

got a promotion
fell in love
had my heart broken
married wrong
had my heart broken again
moved across the country
left my friends in my favorite place
married right
blended animal families
became a teacher
made new friends
got my masters degree

lived a lifetime
in the background
for me.

seventeen
years.

My faithful friend
painting the canvas
the foundation
the home

of my life
with loyal
loving
sweetness.

I will miss her
so.

Goodbye my Kendzie girl.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

elusive

a longing from the
strong silent place at my center
deeper than me
reaching out and toward
the

ahhhhhhh

once felt.


Wrangling to hold tight
to that which is only

movement.

futile warring with fluidity
trying to tether the soothe

a moment easily recalled
a moving picture in my mind

vivid moving alive

a moment that fed a ravenous place
for only a pinpoint
in
time.

Then gone.

As if with anger
a hunger unrelenting
demands
it's
return.

a hard sell that if only
one more time
another moment

and the completeness will stay...


An illusion of longing.
I am not sold

but
reminded to stop
reaching

and embrace the elusive impermanence

of
life.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Working it through: A dialogue with self

A little background.....

I dated someone from the age of 17 until I was approximately 24. It didn't really end until I was 26 or so. Though I loved this person very much, and respected him as much or more than anyone, I was not good to him. I might argue that I was young. Yes, I was. I was fun, spontaneous, affectionate, and loving (according to my then understanding). I was also a bit of an emotional tyrant. I expected him to be giving and loving and kind and respectful and accommodating, which he was.... to a fault. While I held the bar high for him, I was not always those things to him. I don't know that I could see it then, but in hindsight, I do. Clearly. As you will see - old habits die hard.
Another thing about me. If I have loved someone, I always love them. Letting them go completely is like trying to pry a T-bone from the jaws of a pit bull. I don't do it willingly, or easily.
I have never felt good about how things ended with this person. I have always held him in the highest esteem and have always wanted to "right" things with him. Explain. Renew friendship. Evolve into something else. I have spent many years not giving up on this endeavor. It has never gone particularly well. Though in the background of my full and meaningful life, it has haunted me.

Recently, I talked to someone who knows this person. Essentially, this is what he said to me:

For his sake, and yours let it go. Leave him be. In his life, his marriage, his world view, there is no room for you. He is not ready -- no, not willing, to consider any sort of revisiting with you. He is not social. He is not interested in expanding his life outside of the few people in it. He lives his life in an expected, comfortable way, and he is completely content in it. He is not pained over you. He is healed and moved on. When I think of qualities I recognized in you so long ago, I can see that you have become more of that. Wide and expansive, full of life. When I think of qualities that I saw in him, I see that he has become more of that. It has moved you both in completely opposite directions. Neither good, nor bad. There is just no room for anything other than letting it go.

My thoughts:
Ouch. If you know me, you know that was not an easy pill to swallow. Hearing it made it very clear that the girl in me, who needs to know she is loved regardless of her behavior, is still trying to run the show. What I think my friend was saying to me is that even if this person were willing to allow some sort of friendship to exist (which he isn't), he believes that I would not find what I hope to find. That based on what he knows of me, it would be an exercise in futility and interpersonal frustration. I think my friend was trying to tell me that I have grown into a place...and this person has grown into a very different place... and that they are very far apart places. I also think that my friend was trying to tell me that there is nothing for me in trying to return to a place that does not exist.

My message to me:

My friend. Perhaps, rather than looking for vindication in this person's eyes, you need to seek it from yourself. You seek to love. Both others and yourself. It is not loving to make it someone else's responsibility to free you from choices you made in your past. You need to let yourself off of the hook. Realize that you have grown, and you have changed, and so has everyone that you have affected. You desire this person's forgiveness and approval. What now, that you cannot have it? From whom can you seek it? From yourself. It is not that this person is willfully withholding from you. It's that it doesn't exist for him. It exists for you, and therefore is your responsibility. If you want him to know that you are loving, then act from love. You have misunderstood your own motivation. You have believed that managing (or trying to) and positioning in order to express yourself is working toward love. Truthfully, have you not been emotionally strong-arming this person so that you feel better about yourself? If, what he longs for is to be free of the past, and of you, is it not loving to trust life and to willingly provide that? Know that you are ok, no matter what you did, and what you caused. Know that he is ok too. It is not your job to fix it anymore.
I ask you, my friend, to give this person the greatest gift you have. Let go. Release. Trust. and Love.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

A gift unwrapped.

A connection with
someone
from long, long ago.

A person who was not a prominant note in the soundtrack of my life
but one who hovered in the perifery

circles of lives barely intersecting

heard about me through
a name woven lightly amidst
stories of other people
and other times.

One who did not, along side me,trudge through the mud and growth
of my life
But could, from that vantage point
see the splatter that occasionally happened as I ran rough shod
through my own story.

Someone,
to be honest, I was not always sure liked me very much.

A man eater
I believe was a term applied to me.

Ouch.

A moment, I'm sure, long forgotten.

And despite the shadow of one of
many people
on the outskirts of the
production of my being

I noticed
this
person.

Wise. Determined. Outspoken. Willing. Inquisitive. Driven. Intuitive.

Some of those qualities scared me.
Caused me to wonder
caused me to
perhaps
cower just a little.

A million years ago.

Not knowing that
while big hair
blue eye shadow
Valley Girl sang on the fm radio
a seed
of friendship
had perhaps been
planted.

and lay dormant in the safety of years and years.

A gift having lain unwrapped and unnoticed while life progressed.

Only to offer the possibility of
a
friendship.

Now.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Shall I?

Shall i come to you?
Shall i?

Will i walk toward you and realize that that
there is no difference between
what makes you you
and what
makes me me?

That we are both part of the same
spectacular painting.

Might I move toward the beauty and uniqueness
of who you are?

Realizing

that there is nothing
that who you are
can
take from who i am.

There is only more than can
be had
by both of us.

An indulgent feast of life.

Combing colors of you
with colors of me.
creating breath taking awareness of truth,
full of texture and newness and depth before not known.

Won't I experience the awe of abundance?
The richness not of gold or diamonds,
but of life.
Of sharing the breath that gives life to life.

The
I
AM
.

The wonder of relationship.

Might i look toward you and realize that there is no
barrier between us?
That it is only an illusion...
a lie
that keeps me
housed within the guise of walls
that I experience as surrounding me.

Can i?
Take the risk to give?
to take?
to blend and experience?
to dance with that and who which is not familiar to my human
limited
mind.
To challenge the lie that there is something to lose?

Perhaps I could.
Perhaps I will.

With arms open and heart accepting,
come to you.
And releasing the lie that there is division
fall deeply in love
with the rest of me.
the rest of you.

I think I might.

So
much more
than the walls
of this
house.


Yes


I shall come to you.
and I shall know.


Abundance.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Grieving

I'm grieving.
My heart is hurting.
My mind is seeking ways to find what it longs for
right now.

I look outside on a day just a skip
a pulse
away from

October.

Only to see the seething Nevada sun yet beating down on
pavement and rocks long ago
surrendered
to heat unrelenting

I reach into the air
my mind,
heart beats of anticipation
counting on memories of years upon years
expecting the cool, crisp bite of pure September
only to feel a familiar blanket of
flat
predictable heat
beckoning me with it's repulsive, overstayed flirtation

No.

I'm done.
Recoiling back into the forced, artificial cool.
June called. It wants its weather back.
Hoping to blind me with reprieve.
Soothe me with plastic, silkscreened cool laid upon
the truth of
the desert.

No.

The fabric of my youth calls for me
to return.
To grab a sweater and head out the door to
the light autumn air.
promises to whisk me beneath golden canapies
and to titilate me with the song of crunching
leaves
and the laughter of delighted children
burrowing holes in piles of crunchy gold orange yellow red.

My core pleads for days that foreshadow
the stillness of winter
and give
gift upon gift upon gift
of oranges and fading crimson
the scents of spice and pumpkin and ripe glistening apples and pears.

Perhaps like the feeling of one
imprisoned far from the land and customs and surroundings
that they love...
that make them who they are.....

My autumn heart
is jailed
in the blistering
Nevada
sun.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Junior High

twinkling eyes sparkling with daily anticipation
the uncertainty of
what and who and why and how
will happen today

amidst new friends and enemies and adults who claim
to know what they
should
need
can
must
know

a cauldron of fear and excitement and burgeoning courage

how do i know....

who to trust?
who to like?
when to reach?
what to believe?
how to question?
what to do?

Beings not quite grown to fit the size of their skin
the energy of growth and expansion
bursting through in exhuberant expression
decibles beyond comprehension

fill the halls
with glee and pain and questions and pushing and flirting and hiding and moving

feeling their way
into the first chapters of independance

their faces telling so much
the beginnings of voice and confidence
perception
longing
defining
learning who to be

life force clear and unbridled as a
colt finding his legs on a new spring morning field
and in some

the readable sadness of a childhood stolen
windows into a soul too telling

lives beginning
wings unfurling
direction being determined

and me
there
trying to show the way.....

Thursday, September 11, 2008

the doorway

memories encased in significance
in the rooms
of my mind

the doorways to them becoming

further

away from where
i now sit
but still clearly seen.
memories bathed in the thick soupy stillness
of moments that are so hard
to believe
even in hindsight.

I can easily retrieve the memory of that day.

it started out with the same banal regularness
of any other day

The train to work
the crisp bite in the air that comes with a midwestern autumn morning
bagel in hand
coffee from Dunkin Donuts
trapsing amongst commuters.
Elevator up
briefcase
just ready to be dropped on my desk

when there is a new sort of


hush .


in the office
a gaggle of mouths agape
staring at a small 5 inch tv
rabbit ears reaching up
on someone's desk

What?
I asked.

No voices

yet the answer came with looks of horror
pointed back to the screen.

A Plane Hit The World Trade Center

What? How? Why? When? What? What? What? What? How? Why? What?
What? When? What? What? What? How? How? How? Why? What? What?
How? When? Who? Who? Who? Why? What? What? Who? Who? Who? Who?
What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What?

What?

How
is
it
possible
?

I worked in downtown Chicago.
At 8:30 am
it was announced that
we were to evacuate.

The commute, reversed.
yet silenced
there was no banter or laughter or din of conversations about meaningless nothingness.
no hurried pace of morning monotony
but
a quickened gait of confusion
and fear
and the sick ache of knowing that unspeakable horror is happening

right

now.

to
people
just
like
me. and you. and that guy. and her. and.....

Home
after what I experienced as hours
but was actually just minutes
i arrived
again
in my brand new condo.

Workers ripping out baseboard and doors for renovation
dust and
debris
mirroring my mind.

in a bean bag
i sat amidst boards and nails
dust and chaos

and
watched



the



towers



fall.

like a real life
real people
real death
real horror
game of jenga gone bad.

that moment.

.live.

while i stood there in my living room
people hurled
down
stories

smoke
burning gas
melting steel
into a silent pile
of lives
ended.

my emotions
had
no voice .
tears streamed as i sat
aghast
involuntary muted thoughts
in the pain
of all creation
that comes
from the manifestation
of
hate and
judgement and
decision of worth
of
another.

Since that day
life has gone on
just like it always threatens to do
and always does.


sun
moon
days
work
families
aging
illness
shopping
holiday parking lot wars
biased media
code orange
dates
sex
dinners out with friends

and the doorway
behind which the memories rest
gets further away from where i am
right now.

yet i see that doorway


clearly.

encased in the thick
still mist
of memories

like

that

one
.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Perfect for now

sunday morning silence

eric is still sleeping.... reveling in nothing to do
eyes hidden from bright nevada morning light
cozy
i came downstairs
fed my persistant 17 year old cat
water
and fed the dogs

now me

the sound of percolating coffee
bubbles of lazy perfection
against the hum of the air conditioner
keeping us protected
from the
still too hot nevada summer sun

the smell of morning
reminding me of the sounds of clinking spoons against
cold water glasses at Ann Sathers on Belmont
the feel of crisp Chicago fall mornings

the now of my life
quiet and calm
perfect
for
now.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

On a clear day

On a clear day...
She stood before a sea of us
and sang

On a clear day.......................
You can see forever....

I listened
and heard

You know the difference,
don't you?
When something comes to your ears
and it penetrates
the film
of keeping out curtains
that keep so much
away from
our longing souls.

Sometimes that's good,
and sometimes
it puts off
peace
and growth
and more good.

On a clear day
she sang

i felt the truth of it.

When I am clear....
I can see forever
when
I look without
and when
I look within.

On a clear day
there is nothing between me and God
Nothing between me and life
living
feeling
creating
being

So many things can get in the way
of
a
clear
day

Fear. Anger. Wanting. Needing.
Indulging. Procrastinating.
Engulfing myself in something other than
what calls for me
in every single clear moment.

It might be the foggy, thick dependance on someone, something.
Food.
Sex.
Purging.
Pot.
Being heard.
Hiding.
Depression.
So desparately wanting to be loved.

Yet
on a clear day
we can see forever
and
know
that all of those things are
simply fog
in the midst of perfection.

Shades of immediate pretense of satisfaction
that hide the
so close truth
that

love
belongs
to
you.
forever.
and there is nothing that can ever change that.

On a clear day
you
can
see.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Boasting of Summer

So, i'm on summer break. that is really weird to say as an adult, but mannnnnnn is it fun.
For the past couple of years I have been long-term subbing for the Clark County school district. I have had "summers off", but wasn't paid.... So, I had to work. I got my teaching contract in January of this year, and therefore, though I don't make A LOT of money, I am getting paid. Right now. while I sit on my couch drinking iced coffee and watching the today show. Right now. While I'm listening to the dryer hum and watching my pups doze in the morning sun. I cannot tell you how fun it is.
I'm a week and a half into my ten weeks off. I know it's going to fly by..... And, to be fair, I'm not COMPLETELY free this summer as I'm taking classes toward my Masters in Education degree that I'll have completed by the middle of December. Regardless, this is decadent and wonderful. When I started this program, I was thinking that teaching would be a stop on my career journey.... That may be true in the end, but this summer thing won't be easy to give up!!

Thursday, June 19, 2008

In the ether

it
breaks
my
heart

knowing that you're out there
hurting wanting
feeling alone and impotent in the confines
of a life
that lives you

knowing that you're navigating monsters that live inside your head
on your own
makes me want to reach through miles and miles of darkness
to
you

because i am contained in the silent ether of your mind
i cannot help in a way
that feels real

i can't give you the comfort of
a smile
a hug
a touch
a knowing look
i can't offer all that i have

to you

and
i want to
i want to

A special friendship.
Magic.
I love that you bring out the
funny
intellect
biting
loving
sides of me all rolled up into a stimulating ball of hilarious
loving
interaction.

Words can't capture.

can

they.

Could this magical, silent, friendship last forever
just as it is now.
Would that be so bad?
No..... not if i look at it through the windows of

each
moment

the unanticipated
spontaneous
times
we both appear in the same place
shock my mind
with glee
and joy
and electric connection.

you make me laugh & wonder & long for.

There is so much I don't know.

a
b
o
u
t

y
o
u
.

Your life, a canvas with only smudges of color that
i can see.
Yet I know it is rich in it's fullness.
Your depth and texture
your unique injured purity

speak to me.


I am here. In silent ether.
The secret confines of your mind
hidden behind

cheerios and baseball practice
arguments over bill collectors and paint colors
the drive to a job that fills the days to fill your wallet

hidden behind the furniture
neighbors
moves
questions
hurts

daily daily

i remain.

your.
friend.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

English Teacher

she's 81 now.
hard to believe.... completely.
she's one of the reasons that i believe in myself.
funny, how a moment, a million years ago could
be burned into my memory.

she was my english teacher
in high school.
my junior year i believe.
i remember absolutely nothing about that class
except
for a paper i received back
with a comment

i think i have it in box of memories somewhere
it would take awhile to find
though
but i know it made me know
that she saw beneath the typical 17 year old costume
and into
who i was
who i am

i kept it
and i kept her

how did i get her number in the first place
i don't remember

it was a time before cell phones
email
texting

yet, as the years flew by
college
boyfriends
apartments
career
marriages
millions of moments

she has remained a light
in the recesses of my life
a reminder
that i was seen
and what she saw
was valuable

i love her for that
have always loved her for that

I called her today.
The phone rang and i held my breath
for i know
that her health has been failing for years.
waiting for a recording
or just the rings of a phone
that never even got
an answering machine.

An answer

Her nurse first and then
that
voice

A voice of wisdom
consternation
high expectation
and part of me
relaxed in the knowing that
she's still here.

In our lives there are isolated
moments
and people
that may feel or seem
insignificant

yet in that moment
they may
have given
a breath of life
of love
of belief in you

and they are forever part
of the tapestry
of what is good
in you.

She is part of the tapestry
of what
is
good
in
me.

Thank you
Ms. Helen Schallerer.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

multi

nothing makes me more
aware
that we are
all

working with
the same capabilities

of love
and hate
gossip
and forgiveness
wisdom
and inappropriateness
fire and ice
awareness
betrayal
depth
vulgarity
peace
inciting anger
creativity
selfishness
and texture

than
looking
at
my
very
own
life.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Won't I miss her?

For those who don't know, my mom died of cancer when I had just crossed the threshold of 10 years old. What follows is an imagined dialogue between myself and God prior to my birth.


Me: God?

God: Yes love?

Me: So, I'm going back again soon....

God: Yes my expression, you've wanted to go again.

Me: I know. I do want to. I'm just always a little scared when I get ready to leave.

God: I know. I understand. I think you will love this go around.

Me: I think so too... I'm not sure about this losing her while I'm so young.

God: You've had her many times before, and this time, she wants to help you learn to really believe in yourself on a deeper level.

Me: Yes, I want to learn that. That I am capable and lovable and able. That I have everything I need within me.

God: Indeed my love. You will learn that and so much more.

Me: I'll miss her though, when she goes, won't I?

God: You will. Yet this missing will teach you as well. And we both know she'll be very close to you even when you can't see her.

Me: I know.

God: And, you'll be back here before you know it. Stronger, even more loving, and full of joy.

Me: Yes. It's gonna be great. Hard, but great.

God: Great indeed.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Paradise

How does one find
the balance between
trusting people and protecting oneself?

does it matter
if
people i trust
don't honor me with their words
or their actions?

does it change me in any way?

Not long ago, I was teaching a group of children
the truth that
no one
nothing
anything
at
all
can change the beauty that they are

I had them envision the
most beautiful bouquet
roses
lilies
yellows and reds purples pinks and oranges
bursting with
delight
and fragrance
a paradise of senses

I had them set this bouquet in front of themselves
and
begin to

berate it.

tell it that it is
ugly
stupid
hated
horrifying
dissapointing
nothing
ignore it
betray it
talk behind it's back

and i had them look at the flowers again.

Had they changed?

No

the children said
they had not.

The flowers were still just as beautiful
and pink
and fragrant
and miraculously wonderous
as they
were
before.

Nothing can alter beauty.
We forget.
don't we.

Nothing can change the beauty that is you or
me or
him or
her or
them.

A lesson I taught children
yet
I
haven't
quite
learned
myself.

Entwined

entwined
I'm one of those people.
the ones that talk, reach, send, give, create for
others.

I love other people.
I love their uniqueness, the texture and result of their choices, their voices --
what they have to say.
Sometimes, when what they have to say differs dramatically from what I have to say... well,
that can be a challenge to appreciate -- but in truth -- i do.

People fascinate me.
I love that each factor of our lives,
each choice, each turn around a different bend, each surprise, each new moment of each new day creates a new pattern, an altered hue, a change.

I love reaching, and experiencing people.
I can discuss it in a way that makes me sound altruistic and painfully generous.
I can do that. Yet, in truth,
I wonder if that is indeed the truth. Not altogether,
I am sure.

For reaching and touching and connecting and giving and considering and loving and knowing and talking to and hoping for
others
does a couple of things -- for me.

One, it enriches me. It provides for me
new texture, new shadows, new sounds and music, new things to consider, new ways to approach.
my life.
I love that. More than anything I believe.
People.

weird, sexy, wild, courageous, fearful, learning, wondering, judging, waiting, trembling, heart-filled, musical, conservative, cutting-edge, loving
people.

It does another thing for me as well.
The darker side of all of this people other than me focused living.
It keeps me from the silence.
that
is
soley
and
completely
inside
my
being
with
no
other
sound
but
my
own.

I know that I can live my life without really being all that concerned with that fact.
But there is a part of me that knows that spending time in this place is part of the next.... deeper....wise....experience for me.
for all of us.

Being completely alone, for me, is not an exercise is fear -- as it is for some.
It is an undertaking of courage.
It is in the silence of me, that my spirit pauses and my mind trembles.
Certainly my mind.
My mind loves to be busy... reaching, giving, considering, solving.
But to send my mind to the still, quiet waters of my own being? With nothing to distract? Well..... you're asking
quite
a
lot.

So, I look at the yin and the yang, the up and the down, the soft and the hard, the you and the me of my life. and when I do

I long
to know
both.

To embrace the texture and the sound and the noise and the problems and the solutions and the music and the dance and the interaction of

others.

And, entwined with the patterns that live outside of the edges of my own mind
to know intimately.... my own,
still silence.
Where i suspect
joys
and
secrets
reside.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Rough (morose)

i am a flippin emotional sponge.
a person i barely know,
but who's blog i read recently
lost a friend.
i'm not positive, but this person i know can't be over 30.
she is a brilliant, funny, irreverant writer and
i find myself at her writing daily.
She writes about her kids,
life,
stupid people,
the gamut.
Recently she has been writing about a friend who died.
Her friend was a mother.
Sounds like she was funny, sharp and kind.
she was also an addict.
The person I barely know
wrote of how it was hard to see her friend
spiral
out of control.
How she longed for some way to connect, to effect, to inspire
her friend to change.
She didn't.
A week or so ago she died.
Alcohol and perscriptions.
lethal.
I didn't know this woman. Why should I care?
I don't know.
maybe it's my unbearably annoying empathy
which really
cramps my fun loving style sometimes.
Thing is.
people are in pain. hurting. dying. crying. desparate. alone.
Whether they are the ones causing it, or the ones watching it.
It's going on
and it breaks my heart.
and yet, I'm perplexed.
while all of this pain and crap is going on right now...
Joy is also happening.
right now, I don't feel it, but I know somewhere... it is.
Every fucking thing possible
is happening right now.
How dizzying is that?
Just venting.
Feeling for this woman I barely know.
for the people who loved the woman I didn't know.
For all of us.
Cuz life....
its shit and pain....
despite the joys....
Will spare
not
a
one
of
us.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Life Lesson #476 Repeated. Again.

i am struggling with the reluctance to really face things that
are uncomfortable to face.
namely the responsibility that i have when i am feeling out of sorts.
discord.
angst.
upset.
still... though i know much.....
i show up in a day knowing very little about
how to be clear emotionally.

Feeling like making someone else responsible
for my state
of emotion
panic
sadness.
Wanting to flail.

There is a still small voice
reminding me of what i know.
what i claim.
what i say.
There is only me at this control panel.
It is glorious choice
that has me feeling
whatever way I am feeling.

If I am feeling sad
or mistreated
or maligned
or grumpy
for frumpled
or irate.

It is only me that ordered that plate.

And what is on the plate?

Sometimes so hard to swallow.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Dance.

thoughts.

running through. seeking a place. bounding
past where i might be able to
see
feel
understand
control them.

newness.
a dance riding on a wave of never
before experienced
like
a belly laugh coming from
a place unexpected.

knowing that
riding on a burst of delighted moving air
can
never
sustain
throughout
the mundane series of days.

but
knowing

things like this
are rare punctuations in rote
real
concrete
obligation
expected.

I am grateful. for fun. for you. for friendship. for initial insatiable emotional
mental
physical
hunger.

A connection of 2
locked within a mutual gaze
while the world rotates
in it's every day
way.

Feeling your hunger for knowing
meet my hunger for knowing.

Dancing.
Dancing.

Brings that quiet reminder that tumbling this way
is a vacation.
Because
it
cannot be sustained
in
it's
present
form.

As a fire that blazes through slumbering unexpectant wood.
You stumbled into my days.
Laughter
knowing
the
slightest angst of awareness.

gifts.
all of them.

for the memories of what is possible can always be sustained

in the midst
of
rote
everyday
obligation
remind us
of
the
joys
that
can
be
when we dance with unexpected joy.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

one point

realizing every moment that brings a challenge
or a tear
or hurt
is an opportunity for me to look within and see
what
how i am
expressing my own life.

because
the point is
not to judge anyone
or anything else
but to realize that one's entire
awareness resides
withing the boundaries of one's own awareness

therefore
the only thing
that can change my experience
of life
of others
of situations

is me.

one might think me niave
or simple
or stupid
of short sighted

but as my life progresses
i can more clearly see
that there is only one point

to love.

a broad and simple word
don't you think?

give
forgive
laugh
release
allow
rejoice
wonder
expect good
forgive again
again
again
again

recently i have been faced
with the addictions and choices
of someone that i love very much
passionately
through lifetimes perhaps

i hate what he is doing
and choosing
and expressing
and letting go

what am i to do with the
judgements and anger and sadness and hopelessness that i feel?

look within and acknowledge
where i am being dependant on something
selfish
short sighted
needy
hurtful
self absorbed
disrespectful
hoarding
small

it is not useful for me to ask these questions about
him
or you
or them
or that culture
or that group
or that country
or that religion

it is only useful
to ask it of
myself.

every hurt
is an opportunity for me
to become
what
i
know
i
agreed
to
become
in
the
first
place.

a difficult task.

it's always easier to
look at

you
the neighbor with a messy yard
al quaida
george bush
my boss
the friend who hasn't called
the arrogant ass
the driver cutting me off
the family member who won't see it my way
anyone
other
than
me

yet, looking at them. judging them.
adds poison to an
already very poisoned
life.

i want to bring healing to life.
and i can only do that
by healing

me.