Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
Charles Bukowski
Christmas eve, alone,
in a motel room
down the coast...
near the Pacific—
hear it?
they’ve tried to do this place up
Spanish, there’s
tapestry and lamps, and
the toilet’s clean, there are
tiny bars of pink
soap.
they won’t find us
here:
the barracudas or the ladies or
the idol
worshippers.
back in town
they’re drunk and panicked
running red lights
breaking their heads open
in honor of Christ’s
birthday. that’s nice.
soon I’ll finish this 5th of
Puerto Rican rum.
in the morning I’ll vomit and
shower, drive back
in, have a sandwich by 1 p.m.,
be back in my room by
2,
stretched on the bed,
waiting for the phone to ring,
not answering,
my holiday is an
evasion, my reasoning
is not.
in a motel room
down the coast...
near the Pacific—
hear it?
they’ve tried to do this place up
Spanish, there’s
tapestry and lamps, and
the toilet’s clean, there are
tiny bars of pink
soap.
they won’t find us
here:
the barracudas or the ladies or
the idol
worshippers.
back in town
they’re drunk and panicked
running red lights
breaking their heads open
in honor of Christ’s
birthday. that’s nice.
soon I’ll finish this 5th of
Puerto Rican rum.
in the morning I’ll vomit and
shower, drive back
in, have a sandwich by 1 p.m.,
be back in my room by
2,
stretched on the bed,
waiting for the phone to ring,
not answering,
my holiday is an
evasion, my reasoning
is not.
alimony
so alimony is like an unemployment check for the divorced. usually only women get it. you've put so many years into the system, and this is what you get back for when you're not married. it's temporary. and it's an opportunity to find new purpose
Jesus
Yesterday my yoga teacher Liz mentioned that Jesus came to Earth (or we might say was born) to help the humans do something in particular. I can't remember what, though. I'll have to ask her. Was he born to help people? What would Jesus do in this blizzard on his birthday right now? Would he help me move my car? Is he on the Catholics' shoulders as they distribute mass-produced turkey to people who are further along in the aging continuum?
What kind of associations am I supposed to be making today? The snow is coming down, and the world is very white, with a smattering of orange leaves and brown trunks.
It is peaceful. It is peaceful to be a being all by herself, with or without the Internet, with or without a dog. That's kind of the surprise of the day.
Last night I felt like there was no room for me and my dog at any inns or family members' homes. It was okay. I made do with more than a manger. I had heat. I had three wise friends over the phone.
I want to remember what Jesus was trying to do... I think he was trying to uplift, to tell us that we'd have life everlasting... I don't think he mentioned hell (didn't the Puritan priest, Jonathan Edwards, come up with that--sinners in the hands of an angry God?) I have a feeling Jesus wasn't trying to start religious wars. He wasn't trying to torment people for not believing in his divinity. I'm sure he wanted us to remember ours. His last words, I believe were: "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do." ... (But, I'm wondering, do you really think we don't know what we're doing, Jesus? I mean right or wrong, we know what we're doing. If you want to live in a duality anyway. Maybe we're just not making excuses for being ourselves. I mean what would you have done if God weren't so clearly your father? What did you do that we don't know about? :) )
Oh, wait. The reason why Jesus said that was because they were imposing the death penalty on him as, my brother-in-law Kumy says, he was doing tree pose on the cross. (Maybe Jesus' ego didn't even feel the persecution at all.) I want to remember why they put they imposed the death penalty on Jesus again... hmmm... Because he was a Jew, yeah? And the Romans didn't like it? What was Pontius Pilate's point? Say that five times fast.
Did Jesus come to Earth to fall in love with humans and humanity, to tell his dad/the creative force we were worthy of forgiveness? It's such an interesting story, that God gave us free will and then maybe was disappointed when we didn't follow the rules. (I think many people would argue the creative force wants us to be as creative as possible, so long as we're not too taxing on the system?) Some people believe in some of the rules more than the others. I guess that's what people fight about, and maybe I take issue with some rules, too.
But I hope we all agree that it's precious to be a part of it, my dear Spinoza.
It's so lucky to have the chance. And Liz says it goes on even after we die. So this essence of us, that has the good fortune to fall in love with you, and brussel sprouts, and even an inspiring philosopher or poet or teacher along the way--this is something sacred, part of it, and yet unique in its particular combination of energies.
Holy buckets of snow (much easier to see than all those snowflakes blizzing through the air). There is good fortune. And if I need to be forgiven, I'm supposed to know that Jesus and God will forgive me. And me, too.
So Happy Birthday... and global warming or not, thanks for giving me a chance to have Christmas all to myself. Hope to see you next year (and sooner, maybe even Sunday)
What kind of associations am I supposed to be making today? The snow is coming down, and the world is very white, with a smattering of orange leaves and brown trunks.
It is peaceful. It is peaceful to be a being all by herself, with or without the Internet, with or without a dog. That's kind of the surprise of the day.
Last night I felt like there was no room for me and my dog at any inns or family members' homes. It was okay. I made do with more than a manger. I had heat. I had three wise friends over the phone.
I want to remember what Jesus was trying to do... I think he was trying to uplift, to tell us that we'd have life everlasting... I don't think he mentioned hell (didn't the Puritan priest, Jonathan Edwards, come up with that--sinners in the hands of an angry God?) I have a feeling Jesus wasn't trying to start religious wars. He wasn't trying to torment people for not believing in his divinity. I'm sure he wanted us to remember ours. His last words, I believe were: "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do." ... (But, I'm wondering, do you really think we don't know what we're doing, Jesus? I mean right or wrong, we know what we're doing. If you want to live in a duality anyway. Maybe we're just not making excuses for being ourselves. I mean what would you have done if God weren't so clearly your father? What did you do that we don't know about? :) )
Oh, wait. The reason why Jesus said that was because they were imposing the death penalty on him as, my brother-in-law Kumy says, he was doing tree pose on the cross. (Maybe Jesus' ego didn't even feel the persecution at all.) I want to remember why they put they imposed the death penalty on Jesus again... hmmm... Because he was a Jew, yeah? And the Romans didn't like it? What was Pontius Pilate's point? Say that five times fast.
Did Jesus come to Earth to fall in love with humans and humanity, to tell his dad/the creative force we were worthy of forgiveness? It's such an interesting story, that God gave us free will and then maybe was disappointed when we didn't follow the rules. (I think many people would argue the creative force wants us to be as creative as possible, so long as we're not too taxing on the system?) Some people believe in some of the rules more than the others. I guess that's what people fight about, and maybe I take issue with some rules, too.
But I hope we all agree that it's precious to be a part of it, my dear Spinoza.
It's so lucky to have the chance. And Liz says it goes on even after we die. So this essence of us, that has the good fortune to fall in love with you, and brussel sprouts, and even an inspiring philosopher or poet or teacher along the way--this is something sacred, part of it, and yet unique in its particular combination of energies.
Holy buckets of snow (much easier to see than all those snowflakes blizzing through the air). There is good fortune. And if I need to be forgiven, I'm supposed to know that Jesus and God will forgive me. And me, too.
So Happy Birthday... and global warming or not, thanks for giving me a chance to have Christmas all to myself. Hope to see you next year (and sooner, maybe even Sunday)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
What If
What if our religion was each other
If our practice was our life
If prayer, our words
What if the temple was the earth
If forests were our church
If holy water--the rivers, lakes, and oceans
What if meditation was our
relationships
If the Teacher was life
If wisdom was self-knowledge
If love was the center of our being
-Munay Radtke
If our practice was our life
If prayer, our words
What if the temple was the earth
If forests were our church
If holy water--the rivers, lakes, and oceans
What if meditation was our
relationships
If the Teacher was life
If wisdom was self-knowledge
If love was the center of our being
-Munay Radtke
the dog park
have you ever eaten a pine tree?
actually stuck your mouth around a pine
needle, covered with snow?
if you haven't, you might need to reconsider
lately, have you walked through a drift of snow
and had a siberian husky tunnel in front of you with her nose?
i've been reading essays about how words can fail
to convey experience
and realize maybe we've just got to live our own
but have you seen two saint bernards
in their russet, thick fur
come up to a husky
and seem to say, you may be the more direct descendant
of the wolf
but the humans had a better idea with us
the husky runs away
bearing her teeth
saying i got these from the wolf
and now i'm on my way
when's the last time
you've eaten snow?
if there's snow outside
and you haven't had a bite today
you might
be making a mistake.
i crossed paths a couple times
with a woman with three dogs
one was a tan beagle
with a bark bigger than his bite
and i wondered why she didn't try to
calm my environment and shut him up
she had accepted her circumstances
gabbing away on the phone
telling someone she thought that
was the best thing they should do
but i'm wondering:
really, have you eaten snow?
there's something healing,
deeper than water
or ice
a man just walked by with a cowboy hat
carrying a round case saying something
about a cowboy
and i want to tell you
it's all spiritual
so was the man with the beard
who could be a santa claus
but looked like he spent more time
on a motorcyle
and today he had a german shepherd pup
who he can count on spending at least
12 years with
what a policy
a dog represents
and that pine needle
with its snow for today
and those drops of honey
you put in your tea
and the cheese-flavored chex-mix
and the papers you need to grade
and those lips you dreamed of kissing today
especially after you ate the snow.
actually stuck your mouth around a pine
needle, covered with snow?
if you haven't, you might need to reconsider
lately, have you walked through a drift of snow
and had a siberian husky tunnel in front of you with her nose?
i've been reading essays about how words can fail
to convey experience
and realize maybe we've just got to live our own
but have you seen two saint bernards
in their russet, thick fur
come up to a husky
and seem to say, you may be the more direct descendant
of the wolf
but the humans had a better idea with us
the husky runs away
bearing her teeth
saying i got these from the wolf
and now i'm on my way
when's the last time
you've eaten snow?
if there's snow outside
and you haven't had a bite today
you might
be making a mistake.
i crossed paths a couple times
with a woman with three dogs
one was a tan beagle
with a bark bigger than his bite
and i wondered why she didn't try to
calm my environment and shut him up
she had accepted her circumstances
gabbing away on the phone
telling someone she thought that
was the best thing they should do
but i'm wondering:
really, have you eaten snow?
there's something healing,
deeper than water
or ice
a man just walked by with a cowboy hat
carrying a round case saying something
about a cowboy
and i want to tell you
it's all spiritual
so was the man with the beard
who could be a santa claus
but looked like he spent more time
on a motorcyle
and today he had a german shepherd pup
who he can count on spending at least
12 years with
what a policy
a dog represents
and that pine needle
with its snow for today
and those drops of honey
you put in your tea
and the cheese-flavored chex-mix
and the papers you need to grade
and those lips you dreamed of kissing today
especially after you ate the snow.
the thing about poetry
the thing about poetry
or words that don't go all the way across
the page
but try to be more contained
is that it helps you make better choices
you see how in a few words
rather than racing thoughts
trying to claim
chapters of your life
you can shape your vision
you can represent yourself
look at it
and think
how would i like to better represent
experience
not just on the page
but in life
you can sort of
reshape your eyes
to make sure
you're looking at the trees
that you're listening to the om
song
you realize more acutely
maybe
your om song
i'm from omaha
i've actually never lived there
i'm from bellevue
but i've driven in omaha
and hung out there
and had family there
enough to feel like i'm from there
and then i've lived in lincoln for 8 years
it has been this funny place
in my head a lot
where it's just me a lot
figuring out life
while living my 20's here
and now it's the 30's
and somehow i set up some gigs
so that this little place
that has trees, too
and some restaurants
feels kind of like home
and this apartment
where i've been since halloween
is nice
i've lived here for about 10 years
and 2 days
or words that don't go all the way across
the page
but try to be more contained
is that it helps you make better choices
you see how in a few words
rather than racing thoughts
trying to claim
chapters of your life
you can shape your vision
you can represent yourself
look at it
and think
how would i like to better represent
experience
not just on the page
but in life
you can sort of
reshape your eyes
to make sure
you're looking at the trees
that you're listening to the om
song
you realize more acutely
maybe
your om song
i'm from omaha
i've actually never lived there
i'm from bellevue
but i've driven in omaha
and hung out there
and had family there
enough to feel like i'm from there
and then i've lived in lincoln for 8 years
it has been this funny place
in my head a lot
where it's just me a lot
figuring out life
while living my 20's here
and now it's the 30's
and somehow i set up some gigs
so that this little place
that has trees, too
and some restaurants
feels kind of like home
and this apartment
where i've been since halloween
is nice
i've lived here for about 10 years
and 2 days
Sunday morning
Ever wake up
on a Sunday morning
at 6 or 7 am
and know who you want to talk to
know who you wish your arm could be around
that moment
and you want to talk to him?
You know he's in his own place
sick in a bed of sorts
and you want to drive over
but you finally have the sanity
to realize the best thing
is to let him sleep?
You get in your car anyway.
You look for light.
You go through Starbuck's
some kind of friendliness at this early hour
while you wait for them to turn your phone back on
now that you've made a payment
even Sunday mornings sometimes require payment
The girl on the other side of the Starbucks speaker
doesn't understand your language
you're trying to speak hers
going to the trouble of saying Grande
when you know that it's medium
you say you want hot tea
she doesn't understand
"you mean the most complicated drink ever that will cost
more than the two dollars you're holding?"
no, just tea, please
you mean... and eventually you tell her
they say they don't have it
you revise
she gets another woman on the line to make sure
she understands you
all this before 8am
and then you're proud
when a man gives you your change, and you're
not mad at anyone
you remembered yesterday that it feels better
when you let go
of all resentments.
you want to talk to that one person still
instead, you drive by the house you almost bought with him.
it's beautiful. you still wish you could live there.
you realize more clearly where he is, wherever he is
you think if you did live in this lovely house,
still for sale,
it would have Christmas lights up right now
you drive down that street to the east
the sun is still coming up, and canopied by trees
there is beauty
you see an elementary school with a sign saying
book fair and music concert
and you think is life too complicated, or am i
for me to think it would be fun to go here with my kid
for it to be that simple?
you want to call somebody
a friend on the east coast perhaps
where they're awake
but busy, even on a sunday morning, you're sure
you've finally thought of what to do, what you could do today
and you might walk in the woods later with your snowpants
and your dog
and you will definitely read/grade papers
and you will drink the tea
and you love all the music you play
and you play it again and again
so happy that you can make choices
that make you feel better
and you know that what he needs is to feel better
and you feel glad for him
that he has the freedom
of figuring out what will make him feel better
and you get a phone call
and you hope it's someone you love
you don't get it in time because your ringer is too quiet
but there's a message
from a random guy "from class"
who saw your message on facebook
that you'd lost your phone
and he did the same thing, and it's no problem
and you say thank you on the internet
and glimpse at his pictures
and see some ones where you think this guy is nice
and it's not an attraction thing
it's a human thing
and you're human
and you're glad about the humans
and you look forward to later in the day
when you do something nice for your dog
and your tea
and all the things you'd love to do
and you realize nothing is going to kill you
maybe you'll put up walls of fear
once in awhile
to get out and work through
and then you'll climb through them
to some place snow-covered or sun-strewn
and you'll be back on the beach again
and you'll see green again
and as dar williams says, you'll push on into that mystery
and it will push back
and there are worse things than that
and as for home, you're somewhere right now
you lucky dog
and there's no way this could have an end
because love doesn't
and life chooses us after all
dar says
and we choose back
on a Sunday morning
at 6 or 7 am
and know who you want to talk to
know who you wish your arm could be around
that moment
and you want to talk to him?
You know he's in his own place
sick in a bed of sorts
and you want to drive over
but you finally have the sanity
to realize the best thing
is to let him sleep?
You get in your car anyway.
You look for light.
You go through Starbuck's
some kind of friendliness at this early hour
while you wait for them to turn your phone back on
now that you've made a payment
even Sunday mornings sometimes require payment
The girl on the other side of the Starbucks speaker
doesn't understand your language
you're trying to speak hers
going to the trouble of saying Grande
when you know that it's medium
you say you want hot tea
she doesn't understand
"you mean the most complicated drink ever that will cost
more than the two dollars you're holding?"
no, just tea, please
you mean... and eventually you tell her
they say they don't have it
you revise
she gets another woman on the line to make sure
she understands you
all this before 8am
and then you're proud
when a man gives you your change, and you're
not mad at anyone
you remembered yesterday that it feels better
when you let go
of all resentments.
you want to talk to that one person still
instead, you drive by the house you almost bought with him.
it's beautiful. you still wish you could live there.
you realize more clearly where he is, wherever he is
you think if you did live in this lovely house,
still for sale,
it would have Christmas lights up right now
you drive down that street to the east
the sun is still coming up, and canopied by trees
there is beauty
you see an elementary school with a sign saying
book fair and music concert
and you think is life too complicated, or am i
for me to think it would be fun to go here with my kid
for it to be that simple?
you want to call somebody
a friend on the east coast perhaps
where they're awake
but busy, even on a sunday morning, you're sure
you've finally thought of what to do, what you could do today
and you might walk in the woods later with your snowpants
and your dog
and you will definitely read/grade papers
and you will drink the tea
and you love all the music you play
and you play it again and again
so happy that you can make choices
that make you feel better
and you know that what he needs is to feel better
and you feel glad for him
that he has the freedom
of figuring out what will make him feel better
and you get a phone call
and you hope it's someone you love
you don't get it in time because your ringer is too quiet
but there's a message
from a random guy "from class"
who saw your message on facebook
that you'd lost your phone
and he did the same thing, and it's no problem
and you say thank you on the internet
and glimpse at his pictures
and see some ones where you think this guy is nice
and it's not an attraction thing
it's a human thing
and you're human
and you're glad about the humans
and you look forward to later in the day
when you do something nice for your dog
and your tea
and all the things you'd love to do
and you realize nothing is going to kill you
maybe you'll put up walls of fear
once in awhile
to get out and work through
and then you'll climb through them
to some place snow-covered or sun-strewn
and you'll be back on the beach again
and you'll see green again
and as dar williams says, you'll push on into that mystery
and it will push back
and there are worse things than that
and as for home, you're somewhere right now
you lucky dog
and there's no way this could have an end
because love doesn't
and life chooses us after all
dar says
and we choose back
Sunday, December 6, 2009
The Balance of F
Future
Fuck
Freedom
French Fries
Frank
France
Franchise
Fat
Failure
Forward Bend
French
Fallen
Fantastic
Forgotten
Fa Jian
Fry-daddy
Frailty
Future
For now
Free
French
Fellatio
Fall down
Friends
Father
Fry-daddy
Fantastic
Forever
Foot down
Frankly
Forever
Forgotten
For now
Find me
Feeling
Frisky
For hope
For now
Find Freedom
Five Fingers
Five Femurs
Five Friends
Five
Fifty
Five-Fingered-Feet
don't fall down
Fuck
Freedom
French Fries
Frank
France
Franchise
Fat
Failure
Forward Bend
French
Fallen
Fantastic
Forgotten
Fa Jian
Fry-daddy
Frailty
Future
For now
Free
French
Fellatio
Fall down
Friends
Father
Fry-daddy
Fantastic
Forever
Foot down
Frankly
Forever
Forgotten
For now
Find me
Feeling
Frisky
For hope
For now
Find Freedom
Five Fingers
Five Femurs
Five Friends
Five
Fifty
Five-Fingered-Feet
don't fall down
Thursday, December 3, 2009
quotes
"We are never so confident as when judging other people. But to be ourselves is the true test of confidence."
Courage is leaving a part of who you were behind to find out who you are now, to become..."
-Heather Hunter
Courage is leaving a part of who you were behind to find out who you are now, to become..."
-Heather Hunter
Monday, November 23, 2009
all of it
your whole life
has meaning.
and it's all as positive
as what you tried to give it.
that's the gift
under the tree of life
that we all take with us.
has meaning.
and it's all as positive
as what you tried to give it.
that's the gift
under the tree of life
that we all take with us.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
set the intention
set the intention
the words,
the path,
and the people
will follow
and you will know them all
through the body
and the heart
the words,
the path,
and the people
will follow
and you will know them all
through the body
and the heart
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
for the rest of your life
for the rest of your life
you are going to have me
walking around inside of you
each act of love
moves us forward
love can be letting go
love can be a thought, a feeling
but to be not just an obsession
but a life
it takes steps
sometimes we want to run
and stretch beyond our highest heights
but for today
let's have faith
and walk forward
looking forward to the reunion
of voice
hands
mouth
tongue
us.
you are going to have me
walking around inside of you
each act of love
moves us forward
love can be letting go
love can be a thought, a feeling
but to be not just an obsession
but a life
it takes steps
sometimes we want to run
and stretch beyond our highest heights
but for today
let's have faith
and walk forward
looking forward to the reunion
of voice
hands
mouth
tongue
us.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
accessed privilege
when we're walking back from the beach,
i hope you feel like you got something out of it
i used to think the beach was all that
but now i know
that if i went with you
you should have gotten something out of it.
i can go back to the beach by myself.
but if i went with you
i sure as hell got something out of it
if you didn't,
you better go back to the beach
you better get in those waves
you better taste some salt
if you didn't taste
that you accessed privilege
when you accessed me
then you never went to the beach at all
you should have stayed home
because whatever it is was
that was boring you there
is still you
so just stay home next time
because if you think that i'm the waves
and you can ride the waves
and walk back from the beach in silence
then just bury yourself in the sand
because access to the privilege of me
is sand in your eyes.
talk when you can speak
until then
just keep turning over that sand
over and over again
granule by granule
in every wet part
in every gap
of your entire body
because until you get what you accessed
when you accessed me
you might as well plant an umbrella
in front of the cable television
with a lawnchair in your living room
because you don't get at all
what it means
to be alive
and true.
don't mute that commercial.
you're the commercial.
i hope you feel like you got something out of it
i used to think the beach was all that
but now i know
that if i went with you
you should have gotten something out of it.
i can go back to the beach by myself.
but if i went with you
i sure as hell got something out of it
if you didn't,
you better go back to the beach
you better get in those waves
you better taste some salt
if you didn't taste
that you accessed privilege
when you accessed me
then you never went to the beach at all
you should have stayed home
because whatever it is was
that was boring you there
is still you
so just stay home next time
because if you think that i'm the waves
and you can ride the waves
and walk back from the beach in silence
then just bury yourself in the sand
because access to the privilege of me
is sand in your eyes.
talk when you can speak
until then
just keep turning over that sand
over and over again
granule by granule
in every wet part
in every gap
of your entire body
because until you get what you accessed
when you accessed me
you might as well plant an umbrella
in front of the cable television
with a lawnchair in your living room
because you don't get at all
what it means
to be alive
and true.
don't mute that commercial.
you're the commercial.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The Truth is
The truth is
since I met you
I haven't had
a moment's peace
My mind reflects upon
loving you
upon your interests
what you say
what you do
where you are
Sometimes I can't wait
to hear
what's next
I want next to be
with you
I've had to find new depths
of reason
to want to do anything
but have you
in my mind
in my heart
in my bed
the truth is
the most peace
I would find
is to be without you
if I can't be with you
The truth is
you will never leave
my heart
and the Truth is
I've gotta find peace
again
because you've shaken me
so full of love and desire
I can hardly find my toes
since I met you
I haven't had
a moment's peace
My mind reflects upon
loving you
upon your interests
what you say
what you do
where you are
Sometimes I can't wait
to hear
what's next
I want next to be
with you
I've had to find new depths
of reason
to want to do anything
but have you
in my mind
in my heart
in my bed
the truth is
the most peace
I would find
is to be without you
if I can't be with you
The truth is
you will never leave
my heart
and the Truth is
I've gotta find peace
again
because you've shaken me
so full of love and desire
I can hardly find my toes
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
highly sensitive...
amy mentioned that jung had a term called "highly sensitive person"... i found an interesting website on the topic. while i only scored 11, and you need 14 to be highly sensitive, i find it all highly interesting. here's an article on grief and coping:
http://www.hsperson.com/pages/1Aug09.htm
http://www.hsperson.com/pages/1Aug09.htm
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Who Dunnit?
It's not about Who Dunnit?
Who is the person responsible
for bombing those buildings
let's get the guy
who left those suitcases outside
and bombed the cops?
The question is not
whose DNA it is
but why is it happening?
Injustice
is not a social issue
It's a spiritual one
And we can keep building
the bars in the buildings
and in our minds
spending more and more money
on insulating ourselves
from the one thing we need:
understanding
of why
Due process
cannot be achieved
when money is the only means
Who is the person responsible
for bombing those buildings
let's get the guy
who left those suitcases outside
and bombed the cops?
The question is not
whose DNA it is
but why is it happening?
Injustice
is not a social issue
It's a spiritual one
And we can keep building
the bars in the buildings
and in our minds
spending more and more money
on insulating ourselves
from the one thing we need:
understanding
of why
Due process
cannot be achieved
when money is the only means
It's all Love
In the moment,
It may not always seem "all good,"
but the Positives would like us to think so
In the moment, though,
It Is
ALL LOVE
The Hate
Is Love
for the Self
The Inability in that Moment
To be in Relationship
Until We Can Understand
The space to understand
Is Love
The space of the Self
Is Love
It is deserved
Each Self
is deserved
and is love.
It may not always seem "all good,"
but the Positives would like us to think so
In the moment, though,
It Is
ALL LOVE
The Hate
Is Love
for the Self
The Inability in that Moment
To be in Relationship
Until We Can Understand
The space to understand
Is Love
The space of the Self
Is Love
It is deserved
Each Self
is deserved
and is love.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Delphiniums in a Window Box
Delphiniums in a Window Box
by Dean Young, from the New Yorker... Thanks for the reference, Zulaika...
Every sunrise, even strangers’ eyes.
Not necessarily swans, even crows,
even the evening fusillade of bats.
That place where the creek goes underground,
how many weeks before I see you again?
Stacks of books, every page, characters’
rages and poets’ strange contraptions
of syntax and song, every song
even when there isn’t one.
Every thistle, splinter, butterfly
over the drainage ditches. Every stray.
Did you see the meteor shower?
Did it feel like something swallowed?
Every question, conversation
even with almost nothing, cricket, cloud,
because of you I’m talking to crickets, clouds,
confiding in a cat. Everyone says,
Come to your senses, and I do, of you.
Every touch electric, every taste you,
every smell, even burning sugar, every
cry and laugh. Toothpicked samples
at the farmers’ market, every melon,
plum, I come undone, undone.
by Dean Young, from the New Yorker... Thanks for the reference, Zulaika...
Every sunrise, even strangers’ eyes.
Not necessarily swans, even crows,
even the evening fusillade of bats.
That place where the creek goes underground,
how many weeks before I see you again?
Stacks of books, every page, characters’
rages and poets’ strange contraptions
of syntax and song, every song
even when there isn’t one.
Every thistle, splinter, butterfly
over the drainage ditches. Every stray.
Did you see the meteor shower?
Did it feel like something swallowed?
Every question, conversation
even with almost nothing, cricket, cloud,
because of you I’m talking to crickets, clouds,
confiding in a cat. Everyone says,
Come to your senses, and I do, of you.
Every touch electric, every taste you,
every smell, even burning sugar, every
cry and laugh. Toothpicked samples
at the farmers’ market, every melon,
plum, I come undone, undone.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
growth
it's only been 1 month and 5 days since my last post? this seems impossible. i think i am re-emerging into an online creative persona on some level because of my online fiction class i'm taking, but i don't know what kind of gems i'll have to offer here, but i'd like to try...
for today, i'll say:
growth is quite a stretch. we can't expect to grow if we don't wanna stretch... :)
for today, i'll say:
growth is quite a stretch. we can't expect to grow if we don't wanna stretch... :)
Monday, July 27, 2009
alarm
the alarm went off at 5:15
and it was beautiful
to wonder
where you are
the unwaken being knows
your presence
and expects it
and it's so unexpected
wonderful,
beautiful, and natural
how that came to be true
next i pictured us
in a sports utility vehicle
driving up the california coast
to meet my friends
don't worry, it wasn't our
sports utility vehicle
i pictured easily
my friends being your friends
my brothers your friends and brothers
and this is all in the 13 minutes
since i woke up to a new day
last night i wondered what life
would be like beyond that moment
today i knew, in my early moments
in the bathroom, this brown-carpeted
temporary place we've managed to inhabit
despite the bats, who have now been warded off
with a spearmint-peppermint combination,
that this new moment, this new emotional place
includes you
it felt expansive,
ready to receive you further
ready to look up at those trees
in a new neighbhorhood
ready to look out the windows
in the winter
in our new home
ready for our dog
to have a new yard
ready for all that will come to us
ready to get to work now on the things
that earn money
because now
that earns
more time with you.
and it was beautiful
to wonder
where you are
the unwaken being knows
your presence
and expects it
and it's so unexpected
wonderful,
beautiful, and natural
how that came to be true
next i pictured us
in a sports utility vehicle
driving up the california coast
to meet my friends
don't worry, it wasn't our
sports utility vehicle
i pictured easily
my friends being your friends
my brothers your friends and brothers
and this is all in the 13 minutes
since i woke up to a new day
last night i wondered what life
would be like beyond that moment
today i knew, in my early moments
in the bathroom, this brown-carpeted
temporary place we've managed to inhabit
despite the bats, who have now been warded off
with a spearmint-peppermint combination,
that this new moment, this new emotional place
includes you
it felt expansive,
ready to receive you further
ready to look up at those trees
in a new neighbhorhood
ready to look out the windows
in the winter
in our new home
ready for our dog
to have a new yard
ready for all that will come to us
ready to get to work now on the things
that earn money
because now
that earns
more time with you.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
poem to relieve nausea?
-by Natalie Goldberg, intro in Banana Rose
If we have no soul
Something aches in us anyway
Heaves our breath
Pumps our blood
Sun thrown across tree tops
Do you see New Mexico?
Wind storms crack across it
Days break against it
I hurt for dry dirt
Big sky
Bell in a tower
Sage across the eye
Burnt land
Old sand carcass
Your rosebuds are hardening
Your leaves turning
My heart burning
If we have no soul
Something aches in us anyway
Heaves our breath
Pumps our blood
Sun thrown across tree tops
Do you see New Mexico?
Wind storms crack across it
Days break against it
I hurt for dry dirt
Big sky
Bell in a tower
Sage across the eye
Burnt land
Old sand carcass
Your rosebuds are hardening
Your leaves turning
My heart burning
Sunday, May 3, 2009
no more slices
there will be
no more
slices of matrimony
it's something that
should be served whole
those pieces of strawberries
the cream
the cake
that seems to come
from something whole
it has to be whole.
we can't share a piece of that.
matrimony is an unknown game
of chance when it comes
to the future
love itself
can lead to sobbing
that can't be placed
on a phone
or on a person
who cannot hear it
or receive it
matrimony
cannot be served
by the slice
in a cafe
with the man you love
with your whole being
so much that the tears
when he is gone
when he cannot do it
when he says it was a mistake
if it led you here
matrimony cannot be served
by the slice
it cannot be called
delicious
it cannot be savored
for an hour
followed by
a beautiful kiss
a false promise
and an end
and an end
and an end
and an end
in grief
we hope to come
to some new place
we hope that upon
finding ourselves
in tears
we will
someday
find ourselves
again.
sometimes
we are supposed
to pretend
that we are alive
when we want to be dead
sometimes we are supposed
to pretend that it was
just an ending
like a death
but
when they are alive
and we are in love
what then?
some kind of compassion
for another's
compassion
that leads
to our what?
it is pain.
it is suffering.
it the loss of
the slice
of the whole thing
of the house
of the kiss
of the word
of the sound of the voice
of the body we love
of any moment
of any future
of any car
of any frog
of any
of any
of any
of any
matrimony
cannot be served by the slice
it can be ended
by divorce
but not tonight
what about the soul?
what if we're the only ones
who feel it?
what if we are the only one?
what if we are the one who has
to walk alone?
find the tent?
find a place to be free
to be whole
to find a word
called recover
take cover
take cover
from the storm
of your heart
take cover
from me.....
if only that were true
if we could take cover
together
how will i take cover
from the you in me?
no more
slices of matrimony
it's something that
should be served whole
those pieces of strawberries
the cream
the cake
that seems to come
from something whole
it has to be whole.
we can't share a piece of that.
matrimony is an unknown game
of chance when it comes
to the future
love itself
can lead to sobbing
that can't be placed
on a phone
or on a person
who cannot hear it
or receive it
matrimony
cannot be served
by the slice
in a cafe
with the man you love
with your whole being
so much that the tears
when he is gone
when he cannot do it
when he says it was a mistake
if it led you here
matrimony cannot be served
by the slice
it cannot be called
delicious
it cannot be savored
for an hour
followed by
a beautiful kiss
a false promise
and an end
and an end
and an end
and an end
in grief
we hope to come
to some new place
we hope that upon
finding ourselves
in tears
we will
someday
find ourselves
again.
sometimes
we are supposed
to pretend
that we are alive
when we want to be dead
sometimes we are supposed
to pretend that it was
just an ending
like a death
but
when they are alive
and we are in love
what then?
some kind of compassion
for another's
compassion
that leads
to our what?
it is pain.
it is suffering.
it the loss of
the slice
of the whole thing
of the house
of the kiss
of the word
of the sound of the voice
of the body we love
of any moment
of any future
of any car
of any frog
of any
of any
of any
of any
matrimony
cannot be served by the slice
it can be ended
by divorce
but not tonight
what about the soul?
what if we're the only ones
who feel it?
what if we are the only one?
what if we are the one who has
to walk alone?
find the tent?
find a place to be free
to be whole
to find a word
called recover
take cover
take cover
from the storm
of your heart
take cover
from me.....
if only that were true
if we could take cover
together
how will i take cover
from the you in me?
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
from "why him? why her"
Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours
For one lone soul, another lonely soul--
Each chasing each through all the weary hours,
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal;
Then blend they--like green leaves with golden flowers,
Into one beautiful and perfect whole--
And life's long night is ended, and the way
Lies open onward to eternal day.
-SIR EDWIN ARNOLD
For one lone soul, another lonely soul--
Each chasing each through all the weary hours,
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal;
Then blend they--like green leaves with golden flowers,
Into one beautiful and perfect whole--
And life's long night is ended, and the way
Lies open onward to eternal day.
-SIR EDWIN ARNOLD
be
be
who you are
don't get tied up
in the excuses
of anyone else's expectations
what is your greatest joy?
sitting on a mountaintop
and wondering who you are is fine
but go for the best you
you can be
it's not about who everyone sees
it's about how you feel
it's about your joy, your bliss
your greatest resonance,
your highest frequency
if you have one life
to broadcast
what tune do you want to play?
if you have one life
to broadcast
who do you want in your audience?
do you want an audience that talks back?
what moves you to tears?
is it worth pain
to feel the positive tears
the ones that come after the pain?
how many new wonders
could you cry for?
how many new joys?
how many beings could you love?
what helps you to love the greatest?
these are the big questions.
the stuff behind us
has shaped us
but it's not all
we choose what lies ahead
the great paradox
is that life is change
and yet it's what we most resist
people bang their heads
night after night
against walls
finally get into a soft bed
where they hope to sleep
there are soft beds everywhere
your body could be a softer bed
if you gave it a life it loved
if you gave it the relaxation
that comes not at death
but from living the life you love
what makes your spirit bigger?
what traps it in a case?
there are no guns to your head
and your life should not be a gun
there is no need to go off
when what you need is to walk
we have had many loves
what do we want to carry tomorrow?
sometimes there is conversation
sometimes there is just talk
sometimes there is not conversation
and sometimes we have to have a talk
come to jesus, they say
this is my word
this is my life
and i'm not hanging it on a cross.
who you are
don't get tied up
in the excuses
of anyone else's expectations
what is your greatest joy?
sitting on a mountaintop
and wondering who you are is fine
but go for the best you
you can be
it's not about who everyone sees
it's about how you feel
it's about your joy, your bliss
your greatest resonance,
your highest frequency
if you have one life
to broadcast
what tune do you want to play?
if you have one life
to broadcast
who do you want in your audience?
do you want an audience that talks back?
what moves you to tears?
is it worth pain
to feel the positive tears
the ones that come after the pain?
how many new wonders
could you cry for?
how many new joys?
how many beings could you love?
what helps you to love the greatest?
these are the big questions.
the stuff behind us
has shaped us
but it's not all
we choose what lies ahead
the great paradox
is that life is change
and yet it's what we most resist
people bang their heads
night after night
against walls
finally get into a soft bed
where they hope to sleep
there are soft beds everywhere
your body could be a softer bed
if you gave it a life it loved
if you gave it the relaxation
that comes not at death
but from living the life you love
what makes your spirit bigger?
what traps it in a case?
there are no guns to your head
and your life should not be a gun
there is no need to go off
when what you need is to walk
we have had many loves
what do we want to carry tomorrow?
sometimes there is conversation
sometimes there is just talk
sometimes there is not conversation
and sometimes we have to have a talk
come to jesus, they say
this is my word
this is my life
and i'm not hanging it on a cross.
a poem a day (by someone else)
How to Read a Poem: Beginner's Manual
by Pamela Spiro Wagner
First, forget everything you have learned,
that poetry is difficult,
that it cannot be appreciated by the likes of you,
with your high school equivalency diploma,
your steel-tipped boots,
or your white-collar misunderstandings.
Do not assume meanings hidden from you:
the best poems mean what they say and say it.
To read poetry requires only courage
enough to leap from the edge
and trust.
Treat a poem like dirt,
humus rich and heavy from the garden.
Later it will become the fat tomatoes
and golden squash piled high upon your kitchen table.
Poetry demands surrender,
language saying what is true,
doing holy things to the ordinary.
Read just one poem a day.
Someday a book of poems may open in your hands
like a daffodil offering its cup
to the sun.
When you can name five poets
without including Bob Dylan,
when you exceed your quota
and don't even notice,
close this manual.
by Pamela Spiro Wagner
First, forget everything you have learned,
that poetry is difficult,
that it cannot be appreciated by the likes of you,
with your high school equivalency diploma,
your steel-tipped boots,
or your white-collar misunderstandings.
Do not assume meanings hidden from you:
the best poems mean what they say and say it.
To read poetry requires only courage
enough to leap from the edge
and trust.
Treat a poem like dirt,
humus rich and heavy from the garden.
Later it will become the fat tomatoes
and golden squash piled high upon your kitchen table.
Poetry demands surrender,
language saying what is true,
doing holy things to the ordinary.
Read just one poem a day.
Someday a book of poems may open in your hands
like a daffodil offering its cup
to the sun.
When you can name five poets
without including Bob Dylan,
when you exceed your quota
and don't even notice,
close this manual.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
he asks "who has this?"
soon i'm going to post some stuff from mary pipher's new memoir that resonates with me and my experiences... not now... stay tuned.
Monday, April 6, 2009
two posters of notes in greg keller's classroom
There's a Hole in My Sidewalk: Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
1.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost . . . I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes me forever to find a way out.
2.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in this same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
3.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I SEE it there.
I still fall in . . . it's a habit . . . but,
my eyes are open,
I know where I am.
It is MY fault.
I get out immediately.
4.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
5.
I walk down another street.
"The Precious Stillness"
One final paragraph of advice:
Do not burn yourself out.
Be as I am--
a reluctant enthusiast...
a part-time crusader,
a half-hearted fanatic.
Save the other half of yourselves and your lives
for pleasure and adventure.
It is not enough to fight for the land:
it is even more important to enjoy it.
While you can.
While it's still there.
So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around
with your friends,
ramble out yonder and explore the forests,
encounter the grizz,
climb the mountains,
bag the peaks,
run the rivers,
breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air,
sit quietly for a while,
and contemplate the precious stillness,
that lovely, mysterious and awesome space.
Enjoy yourselves,
keep your brain in your head
and your head firmly attached to the body,
the body active and alive,
and I promise you this much:
I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies,
over those desk-bound people with their
hearts in a safe deposit box
and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators.
I promise you this:
you will outlive the bastards.
-Edward Abbey
1.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost . . . I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes me forever to find a way out.
2.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in this same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
3.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I SEE it there.
I still fall in . . . it's a habit . . . but,
my eyes are open,
I know where I am.
It is MY fault.
I get out immediately.
4.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
5.
I walk down another street.
"The Precious Stillness"
One final paragraph of advice:
Do not burn yourself out.
Be as I am--
a reluctant enthusiast...
a part-time crusader,
a half-hearted fanatic.
Save the other half of yourselves and your lives
for pleasure and adventure.
It is not enough to fight for the land:
it is even more important to enjoy it.
While you can.
While it's still there.
So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around
with your friends,
ramble out yonder and explore the forests,
encounter the grizz,
climb the mountains,
bag the peaks,
run the rivers,
breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air,
sit quietly for a while,
and contemplate the precious stillness,
that lovely, mysterious and awesome space.
Enjoy yourselves,
keep your brain in your head
and your head firmly attached to the body,
the body active and alive,
and I promise you this much:
I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies,
over those desk-bound people with their
hearts in a safe deposit box
and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators.
I promise you this:
you will outlive the bastards.
-Edward Abbey
bbc article
zulaika told me about this article (from 2003, that she still remembers) linking women's use of the birth control pill to a choice of inappropriate mates, changing their natural pheromone detection...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/2677697.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/2677697.stm
Sunday, April 5, 2009
epic poem
i just watched rivers and tides and wrote the longest poem i've ever written while watching it. if you are reading this, you influenced this poem, too. someday i should edit it. probably not today. have concrete things to do, too. i think it's a movie length-poem, so beware. it needs an editing room. some words are stolen. i try to quote them when they are. others are me changing things, seeing things, extrapolating, trying to tell you and me and everything something.
When spring begins
it doesn't begin on the surface
it begins below.
an exchange of energy, of heat
that begins inside
and must work its way up
before we can see
the evidence of change.
the snow may still unexpectedly fall
down from the heavens
but the earth knows
of the change that's begun.
it is only a matter of time
for the change to sprout up
for the new cycle to begin.
roots can look charred, look painted,
fragile, but it's just the way we find them.
we find ways of understanding
what's going on at the moment.
some of last year's plants
will not grow again
even though they're still
connected to that root system
underground
the idea of what happened last year
is being repeated this year
we are going to come through this.
the old must burn
to give new life
the real work
is the change.
processes in nature are connected
to the sun, the moon, the tide, growth.
pull your own tooth
hold a baby bunny
look at film
see stones
through light
talk about
sculpture
through pictures
we get visually
and physically numb
to what we've made
good work
and bad work
everything
is put into here
who are you working for?
do you work intuitively?
pick
yellow flowers
by a stone wall
make
your best work
indications of how strongly
you feel for this place
pick dandelions
for a tin bowl
. . . . . .
a child is the first
to be born on the street
you see only births,
she sees only deaths
he lies in the rain
on the concrete
to see his shadow
while he rises
a rainbow
a yellow trail
of picked flowers
through a purple patch
a red ribbon
streaming through
green leaves
water rushes,
a bouquet of dandelions
afixed to rocks
he loves me, he loves me not
thrown into the
rushing stream
beauty
for its own sake
the river,
a line we follow
an unpredictability
running through
its own cycles
to the weather
and the sea
the river
joins the year
together
a river of stone
animals
wind
water
a river is not
dependent on water
we're talking about
flow
green leaves
chased through
by a green ribbon
a river of growth
that flows through
the trees
and the land
a spiral eye
on the skin
of a tree
its depth
is not seen
when it stays still.
our depth is not seen
when we stay still.
the barbs on the tree
the bulbous growths
make it look
tumored
cancered
but seen from
the landscape
it is
its own whole
its branches make
its own kaleidoscope
while the rams,
the ewes, the baby sheep
make their kaleidoscope
in its midst.
the shepherd
still carries
a hooked staff
catches
a running,
cornered sheep
helps it
to birth
new young
it is not
stillborn
though covered
in mucus
the shock
of new life
it may seem so
at first
surprisingly
it is all over
very quick
painless
the baby shakes
its head
the mother
her own fur matted
licks mucus
off her baby
the men look on,
handle what they can
with their hands
somewhere
there is also
death
a curled horn
seems so inappropriate
for this life
too ornate
for our eyes
let alone
his head
clumps of sheep hair
strung together
strewn over stones
a river of sheep
a flow of movement
in their own way
sheep dot the landscape
strings of wool
strewn on rock
there are no trees
because of the sheep
they have had
a deep impact
on the land
he feels a need
to work with
the sheep
and yet knows
his perception of sheep
is so different from
the reality
of sheep
it makes it
an incredibly
difficult thing
to work with
because
we perceive it
as being a wooly animal
to get through
that wooliness
the essence of
the sheep
is very hard
the sheep
is a powerful animal
in its own way
a wall of lumpy stone
built by man
..............
sheep have been responsible
for social and political upheavals
he says
people were put off
the land,
moved away
for the sheep
baby sheep today
they have left their
story behind them.
there is an emptiness
in the landscape
because of sheep.
wool-y mammoth
stone
big stone
touched by man
people lived, worked, and died here,
he can feel their presence
in the place where he works
.....................
I am the next layer
upon things that have
already happened.
climb a moss-splotted stone
seen from above
it forms a circle
not a sign
of man or woman
but a gateway,
an opening
mothers and fathers
to an art
a monument
amidst a landscape
the camera revolves
in earthy revolution
resolution
he doesn't think
the earth needs him
at all
but he does need it
his work
roots him again
and if he doesn't work
he feels
root-less.
he doesn't
know himself
he needs to be
on his own
at times
enjoys being
by himself
there are people's
company
he does enjoy
and yet he heals and feeds
on his own solitude
to be honest, he says,
he is drained
by people.
there are subtleties
that only he
is aware of
the present state
of the wind
though he looks
as calm as he did
30 seconds ago
there are those little warning bells
going off inside
he has built
an unknowably standing web
of twigs
connecting to a tree
somehow standing
in the air
he makes what shouldn't
stand in the air
its vast difference
from expectation
from convention
stands
and makes space
for the sun to shine through.
when he makes a work
he often takes it
to the very edge
of its collapse.
a beautiful balance
it shakes
and he reaches
to catch it
steady his creation,
with both hands
bandaged fingers
He watches it collapse
and holds his head.
It is gone,
and he sits sighing,
That was close.
"I am amazed at times
that I am actually alive."
His creation
lies in a heap
the tree branches
stand
in a heap,
root system
seeable, greened by codependent creatures
.................................
"There have been occasions
when someone very close to me died."
He smacks the dirt off the moss
makes thread
as he does from wool, from flowers
strings along everything he knows
to his most beautiful extension.
He reaffixes what he can.
The image
of his brother dying
is burned in his mind.
The day after
he worked
at the tree.
Seemed
the right place
to go.
He finally made
a work with the whole
on the tree.
He has come to see it
as a kind of entrance
into the tree, the stone, the earth
"An entrance
between which
life both ebbs
and flows."
Looking into a black hole
he often describes
is like looking over a cliff's edge.
A sense of being
drawn into the black
as drawn into the depths
The distance
But the other side
of that
is out of that
also comes growth
even stones
have holes
The black is not just a death
not just the absence
it's the intangible
but in the context
of a tree
that he knows
will come back to life.
There's nothing more potent
than a black hole
that he's made
and later he sees
a little finger of growth
a blade of growth
growing out of the black.
the river gurgles in
an unimaginable surge
of its own
unexpected direction.
forces following
the earth, gravity
as they unexpectedly combine
circle
and entangle
before making their way.
leaves upon leaves
strung together
in unexpected chains
twining their way together
like a serpent
down a stream
a sway they live
in their own creation
unexpected leaps and bounds
a ribboned collapse
of unpredictable direction
a flow
not knowing
which end
is up
until it is up
breakfast is served
at a diner
syrup over eggs
over waffles,
bacon.
men pound stones
shirtless in shorts
they are making a wall
repairing gaps
he has to respect
their work
their lives
they each have their roles
working their own space
their dialogue with the stone
is what makes the wall
it makes itself
to some extent
the fluidity of working
that gives the sculpture
a sense of movement, energy
walls are a link
back to a home
settlers make
walls
and we remake
the walls
so that they talk
about the place
as it is now.
"The walls have
come out of that process
of cutting down the trees
and turning the forest
into farmland.
But then farming has shifted
away from this landscape
and trees found shelter in the wall
and grew."
It is a dialogue.
"A wall is a line
in sympathy with the place
through which it travels."
That sense of movement
is very important
to the understanding
of sculpture
the river of growth
a flow that runs
around the world
the veins that run
around the world
roads
arteries
trucks
farms
land
music
pulse
water
curving walls
expanses of trees
birdsong
symphony
quiet regret
sound of movement
red drips on stone
he reaches into the water
and collects
stones that color
red on rock
he beats them
their iron,
making rocks, blood red
he feels special energy
in the red
its relationship to blood
something he can't explain entirely
a relationship to life
even though things die
they're part
of that flow still.
they become part
of the river of red.
"In Japan you'll see
a red maple tree
against a green mountain
and it's like a
wound in the mountain."
an energy and violence
about the color
a continuous pursuit
of red
as he approaches its source,
he learns the lessons
of the color
the color is also
in him
a feeling of a color and energy
flowing through all things
the water turns red
a seepage
of iron
realizing the red
is not so obvious
something so dramatic,
so intense
and so hidden
underneath the skin
of the earth
released,
it swirls,
it pools
a shock at seeing that color
so alien to the river
while its origins are rooted
to that place.
stone goes through a process
of solidification
and then becoming fluid again
and becoming solid once more
a memory in the life of the stone
very much in the spirit, in its nature
"We set so much
by our idea
of the stability of stone
and when we find
that stone itself
is actually fluid and liquid
it can undermine
our sense
of what is here to stay
and what isn't."
. . . . . .
They put human hair
from the barbershop in his town
in the clay to the walls that he builds
the cracks at the surface
of the clay
contain us
the cracks at our surface
contain the growth
the flow
of all
of course it feels alive.
words do their job,
but what he's doing there
says a lot more.
unravel your soul.
mist, water, the snow blows
much deeper than that.
When spring begins
it doesn't begin on the surface
it begins below.
an exchange of energy, of heat
that begins inside
and must work its way up
before we can see
the evidence of change.
the snow may still unexpectedly fall
down from the heavens
but the earth knows
of the change that's begun.
it is only a matter of time
for the change to sprout up
for the new cycle to begin.
roots can look charred, look painted,
fragile, but it's just the way we find them.
we find ways of understanding
what's going on at the moment.
some of last year's plants
will not grow again
even though they're still
connected to that root system
underground
the idea of what happened last year
is being repeated this year
we are going to come through this.
the old must burn
to give new life
the real work
is the change.
processes in nature are connected
to the sun, the moon, the tide, growth.
pull your own tooth
hold a baby bunny
look at film
see stones
through light
talk about
sculpture
through pictures
we get visually
and physically numb
to what we've made
good work
and bad work
everything
is put into here
who are you working for?
do you work intuitively?
pick
yellow flowers
by a stone wall
make
your best work
indications of how strongly
you feel for this place
pick dandelions
for a tin bowl
. . . . . .
a child is the first
to be born on the street
you see only births,
she sees only deaths
he lies in the rain
on the concrete
to see his shadow
while he rises
a rainbow
a yellow trail
of picked flowers
through a purple patch
a red ribbon
streaming through
green leaves
water rushes,
a bouquet of dandelions
afixed to rocks
he loves me, he loves me not
thrown into the
rushing stream
beauty
for its own sake
the river,
a line we follow
an unpredictability
running through
its own cycles
to the weather
and the sea
the river
joins the year
together
a river of stone
animals
wind
water
a river is not
dependent on water
we're talking about
flow
green leaves
chased through
by a green ribbon
a river of growth
that flows through
the trees
and the land
a spiral eye
on the skin
of a tree
its depth
is not seen
when it stays still.
our depth is not seen
when we stay still.
the barbs on the tree
the bulbous growths
make it look
tumored
cancered
but seen from
the landscape
it is
its own whole
its branches make
its own kaleidoscope
while the rams,
the ewes, the baby sheep
make their kaleidoscope
in its midst.
the shepherd
still carries
a hooked staff
catches
a running,
cornered sheep
helps it
to birth
new young
it is not
stillborn
though covered
in mucus
the shock
of new life
it may seem so
at first
surprisingly
it is all over
very quick
painless
the baby shakes
its head
the mother
her own fur matted
licks mucus
off her baby
the men look on,
handle what they can
with their hands
somewhere
there is also
death
a curled horn
seems so inappropriate
for this life
too ornate
for our eyes
let alone
his head
clumps of sheep hair
strung together
strewn over stones
a river of sheep
a flow of movement
in their own way
sheep dot the landscape
strings of wool
strewn on rock
there are no trees
because of the sheep
they have had
a deep impact
on the land
he feels a need
to work with
the sheep
and yet knows
his perception of sheep
is so different from
the reality
of sheep
it makes it
an incredibly
difficult thing
to work with
because
we perceive it
as being a wooly animal
to get through
that wooliness
the essence of
the sheep
is very hard
the sheep
is a powerful animal
in its own way
a wall of lumpy stone
built by man
..............
sheep have been responsible
for social and political upheavals
he says
people were put off
the land,
moved away
for the sheep
baby sheep today
they have left their
story behind them.
there is an emptiness
in the landscape
because of sheep.
wool-y mammoth
stone
big stone
touched by man
people lived, worked, and died here,
he can feel their presence
in the place where he works
.....................
I am the next layer
upon things that have
already happened.
climb a moss-splotted stone
seen from above
it forms a circle
not a sign
of man or woman
but a gateway,
an opening
mothers and fathers
to an art
a monument
amidst a landscape
the camera revolves
in earthy revolution
resolution
he doesn't think
the earth needs him
at all
but he does need it
his work
roots him again
and if he doesn't work
he feels
root-less.
he doesn't
know himself
he needs to be
on his own
at times
enjoys being
by himself
there are people's
company
he does enjoy
and yet he heals and feeds
on his own solitude
to be honest, he says,
he is drained
by people.
there are subtleties
that only he
is aware of
the present state
of the wind
though he looks
as calm as he did
30 seconds ago
there are those little warning bells
going off inside
he has built
an unknowably standing web
of twigs
connecting to a tree
somehow standing
in the air
he makes what shouldn't
stand in the air
its vast difference
from expectation
from convention
stands
and makes space
for the sun to shine through.
when he makes a work
he often takes it
to the very edge
of its collapse.
a beautiful balance
it shakes
and he reaches
to catch it
steady his creation,
with both hands
bandaged fingers
He watches it collapse
and holds his head.
It is gone,
and he sits sighing,
That was close.
"I am amazed at times
that I am actually alive."
His creation
lies in a heap
the tree branches
stand
in a heap,
root system
seeable, greened by codependent creatures
.................................
"There have been occasions
when someone very close to me died."
He smacks the dirt off the moss
makes thread
as he does from wool, from flowers
strings along everything he knows
to his most beautiful extension.
He reaffixes what he can.
The image
of his brother dying
is burned in his mind.
The day after
he worked
at the tree.
Seemed
the right place
to go.
He finally made
a work with the whole
on the tree.
He has come to see it
as a kind of entrance
into the tree, the stone, the earth
"An entrance
between which
life both ebbs
and flows."
Looking into a black hole
he often describes
is like looking over a cliff's edge.
A sense of being
drawn into the black
as drawn into the depths
The distance
But the other side
of that
is out of that
also comes growth
even stones
have holes
The black is not just a death
not just the absence
it's the intangible
but in the context
of a tree
that he knows
will come back to life.
There's nothing more potent
than a black hole
that he's made
and later he sees
a little finger of growth
a blade of growth
growing out of the black.
the river gurgles in
an unimaginable surge
of its own
unexpected direction.
forces following
the earth, gravity
as they unexpectedly combine
circle
and entangle
before making their way.
leaves upon leaves
strung together
in unexpected chains
twining their way together
like a serpent
down a stream
a sway they live
in their own creation
unexpected leaps and bounds
a ribboned collapse
of unpredictable direction
a flow
not knowing
which end
is up
until it is up
breakfast is served
at a diner
syrup over eggs
over waffles,
bacon.
men pound stones
shirtless in shorts
they are making a wall
repairing gaps
he has to respect
their work
their lives
they each have their roles
working their own space
their dialogue with the stone
is what makes the wall
it makes itself
to some extent
the fluidity of working
that gives the sculpture
a sense of movement, energy
walls are a link
back to a home
settlers make
walls
and we remake
the walls
so that they talk
about the place
as it is now.
"The walls have
come out of that process
of cutting down the trees
and turning the forest
into farmland.
But then farming has shifted
away from this landscape
and trees found shelter in the wall
and grew."
It is a dialogue.
"A wall is a line
in sympathy with the place
through which it travels."
That sense of movement
is very important
to the understanding
of sculpture
the river of growth
a flow that runs
around the world
the veins that run
around the world
roads
arteries
trucks
farms
land
music
pulse
water
curving walls
expanses of trees
birdsong
symphony
quiet regret
sound of movement
red drips on stone
he reaches into the water
and collects
stones that color
red on rock
he beats them
their iron,
making rocks, blood red
he feels special energy
in the red
its relationship to blood
something he can't explain entirely
a relationship to life
even though things die
they're part
of that flow still.
they become part
of the river of red.
"In Japan you'll see
a red maple tree
against a green mountain
and it's like a
wound in the mountain."
an energy and violence
about the color
a continuous pursuit
of red
as he approaches its source,
he learns the lessons
of the color
the color is also
in him
a feeling of a color and energy
flowing through all things
the water turns red
a seepage
of iron
realizing the red
is not so obvious
something so dramatic,
so intense
and so hidden
underneath the skin
of the earth
released,
it swirls,
it pools
a shock at seeing that color
so alien to the river
while its origins are rooted
to that place.
stone goes through a process
of solidification
and then becoming fluid again
and becoming solid once more
a memory in the life of the stone
very much in the spirit, in its nature
"We set so much
by our idea
of the stability of stone
and when we find
that stone itself
is actually fluid and liquid
it can undermine
our sense
of what is here to stay
and what isn't."
. . . . . .
They put human hair
from the barbershop in his town
in the clay to the walls that he builds
the cracks at the surface
of the clay
contain us
the cracks at our surface
contain the growth
the flow
of all
of course it feels alive.
words do their job,
but what he's doing there
says a lot more.
unravel your soul.
mist, water, the snow blows
much deeper than that.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
the art of letting go
close your eyes
and have someone read this
to you...
you are getting very, very
sleepy
9, 8, you are going deeper
7, 6, you are into the deepest
recesses of your unconscious
mind, 5, 4, these suggestions
reach you and sink into your core
3, 2, you are letting go of all
the pain, 1,
you let go of all fear...
you are in the present moment
the past is behind you
there is no more worry about
the past or the future
you are settled in your own
mind, in your own being
in the river of your
own existence
and you make it your best...
you give in to the flow of your
own current...
i wish i could steal the hyp-yoga
trademarked script that is so
much better, and so much more healing
but
it is against the law
eating kung pao tofu in my
blue honda civic
i am free to sit in a parking lot
in my car
and am freer
than i was at 16.
i remember that freedom
and today it is more...
i am eating emerald sesame kale
as i turn a corner in my car
and the guy behind me honks
because i'm going too slow
and i take it as no commentary
on myself or him
just this moment
and what he did, and this
is what i'm doing...
i rented rivers and tides
after a session with pete
relating about the flow of our
river, the surrender to our current
not getting stuck in crags
not holding on to dead branches
but going with the flow of our
own current
when i came out of lincoln high
with my phone, the kids i had
entrusted my dog to had become
modeling agents, and new
kids were practicing taking
pictures of my husky talent..
she licked the camera,
wanted to scratch it,
that sexy vixen dog...
when i came home, she was waiting
in the window,
greeted me
at the door,
just wanted to go outside
like my date after a long day's work
i took her out when the words begged
to be typed instead,
and this isn't as good as it might
have been, but my dog got to run
for a block before i took her home.
we are working on forgiveness
we must love ourselves before
we can love anyone
we must forgive ourselves
because we are really capable
of forgiveness
we must clear our minds
to be free to be who we are...
in your head, in the street, in your car.
and have someone read this
to you...
you are getting very, very
sleepy
9, 8, you are going deeper
7, 6, you are into the deepest
recesses of your unconscious
mind, 5, 4, these suggestions
reach you and sink into your core
3, 2, you are letting go of all
the pain, 1,
you let go of all fear...
you are in the present moment
the past is behind you
there is no more worry about
the past or the future
you are settled in your own
mind, in your own being
in the river of your
own existence
and you make it your best...
you give in to the flow of your
own current...
i wish i could steal the hyp-yoga
trademarked script that is so
much better, and so much more healing
but
it is against the law
eating kung pao tofu in my
blue honda civic
i am free to sit in a parking lot
in my car
and am freer
than i was at 16.
i remember that freedom
and today it is more...
i am eating emerald sesame kale
as i turn a corner in my car
and the guy behind me honks
because i'm going too slow
and i take it as no commentary
on myself or him
just this moment
and what he did, and this
is what i'm doing...
i rented rivers and tides
after a session with pete
relating about the flow of our
river, the surrender to our current
not getting stuck in crags
not holding on to dead branches
but going with the flow of our
own current
when i came out of lincoln high
with my phone, the kids i had
entrusted my dog to had become
modeling agents, and new
kids were practicing taking
pictures of my husky talent..
she licked the camera,
wanted to scratch it,
that sexy vixen dog...
when i came home, she was waiting
in the window,
greeted me
at the door,
just wanted to go outside
like my date after a long day's work
i took her out when the words begged
to be typed instead,
and this isn't as good as it might
have been, but my dog got to run
for a block before i took her home.
we are working on forgiveness
we must love ourselves before
we can love anyone
we must forgive ourselves
because we are really capable
of forgiveness
we must clear our minds
to be free to be who we are...
in your head, in the street, in your car.
personal nagasaki
what is the price of fear?
what is the price of truth?
a young woman buys frosted
mini carrot cakes with walnuts
to celebrate picking up her lover
she sees him run to her car
in her rear view mirror
she licks icing off her fingers
turns around to watch him
he walks.
he gets in the car.
instead of kissing her smile
he dashes it with a letter
after the contents of the truth
and the un-truths and the half-truths
have been displayed
he tells her she has to quit crying
not to be so dramatic
he tries to drive her away, drive her
home
she cannot go home with him
she needs the car to stop
she needs the ride to stop
needing safety, she drives to
the office of her therapist
a man at work
he has a client
she is crying louder than
she has heard herself before
the building reacts as though
there has been a bomb
women pour out of a girl scout office
can i help you?
do you need to use the phone?
she calls her sister.
in her grief and tears
she says you have to come down
her sister wants to say okay
but she has to work, she has
meetings
she never says what happened
their dad is not dead.
a woman working in the building
comes outside, says wait, don't
drive like this.
she drives anyway. there is no way
to explain.
he put money in the envelope
keys, words. she reads them,
trying to find how this black and white
can in any way match her love and her truth
her hopes
a river flows, and then a boulder drops.
the river learns to flow
not get too excited,
not get too grateful
it learns to value the price
of peace.
can there be peace without truth?
how much does that cost?
he always wanted to know
how much was that doggy in the window
he did hope that doggy's for sale
he took home that doggy in the window
before he went and chopped off her tail.
what is the price of truth?
a young woman buys frosted
mini carrot cakes with walnuts
to celebrate picking up her lover
she sees him run to her car
in her rear view mirror
she licks icing off her fingers
turns around to watch him
he walks.
he gets in the car.
instead of kissing her smile
he dashes it with a letter
after the contents of the truth
and the un-truths and the half-truths
have been displayed
he tells her she has to quit crying
not to be so dramatic
he tries to drive her away, drive her
home
she cannot go home with him
she needs the car to stop
she needs the ride to stop
needing safety, she drives to
the office of her therapist
a man at work
he has a client
she is crying louder than
she has heard herself before
the building reacts as though
there has been a bomb
women pour out of a girl scout office
can i help you?
do you need to use the phone?
she calls her sister.
in her grief and tears
she says you have to come down
her sister wants to say okay
but she has to work, she has
meetings
she never says what happened
their dad is not dead.
a woman working in the building
comes outside, says wait, don't
drive like this.
she drives anyway. there is no way
to explain.
he put money in the envelope
keys, words. she reads them,
trying to find how this black and white
can in any way match her love and her truth
her hopes
a river flows, and then a boulder drops.
the river learns to flow
not get too excited,
not get too grateful
it learns to value the price
of peace.
can there be peace without truth?
how much does that cost?
he always wanted to know
how much was that doggy in the window
he did hope that doggy's for sale
he took home that doggy in the window
before he went and chopped off her tail.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
i wrote a little ditty
and sang it.
it's called i know
where you can detoxify your soul.
but i erased it.
still, i had great fun singing it
to myself.
maybe for an hour?
that soul detox... puts me in touch with my self. what a good place to be.
still integrating body, mind, and spirit, but spirit and mind are making a come-back. they've been in shock, i noticed when i forgot the rice and beans in the oven. good thing i smelled that they were done.
today i put both legs behind my head for the first time. i was really limber right then. i don't think i could do that now. my yoga class clapped ;)
it's called i know
where you can detoxify your soul.
but i erased it.
still, i had great fun singing it
to myself.
maybe for an hour?
that soul detox... puts me in touch with my self. what a good place to be.
still integrating body, mind, and spirit, but spirit and mind are making a come-back. they've been in shock, i noticed when i forgot the rice and beans in the oven. good thing i smelled that they were done.
today i put both legs behind my head for the first time. i was really limber right then. i don't think i could do that now. my yoga class clapped ;)
more from liz
"when you finally integrate body, mind, and spirit -- watch out: dynamite!"
the brain has about 145 million thoughts going through it per second... we choose to listen to about 12. the twelve that we habitually choose create our world, our belief system. we can decide whether to reach into positive consciousness or negative consciousness and create our world in doing so.
me: when we act with positive spirit, we can achieve anything... we find all we need. when we act with negative spirit, with the desire to control or possess, to manipulate someone... we don't end up getting our way... we are not living life the right way, and we will create misery. if we believe that we should get our way, even when it violates others against their will, we end up violating ourselves, too, and eventually we will have to meet up with society's support system to help us get well: counseling and/or the police. these are not bad things. prisons could use reforming. pysch wards don't sound glamorous. but people end up needing to be in a place that can contain them when they don't do the work to make sure they're in a good place by themselves. we all end up needing help. we accept it when we're ready.
the brain has about 145 million thoughts going through it per second... we choose to listen to about 12. the twelve that we habitually choose create our world, our belief system. we can decide whether to reach into positive consciousness or negative consciousness and create our world in doing so.
me: when we act with positive spirit, we can achieve anything... we find all we need. when we act with negative spirit, with the desire to control or possess, to manipulate someone... we don't end up getting our way... we are not living life the right way, and we will create misery. if we believe that we should get our way, even when it violates others against their will, we end up violating ourselves, too, and eventually we will have to meet up with society's support system to help us get well: counseling and/or the police. these are not bad things. prisons could use reforming. pysch wards don't sound glamorous. but people end up needing to be in a place that can contain them when they don't do the work to make sure they're in a good place by themselves. we all end up needing help. we accept it when we're ready.
favorite quote
Competition is giving away your opportunity for joy to the standards of others. Be joyful simply because you are.
-krista burlae
-krista burlae
Monday, March 30, 2009
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is your life a bad dream you feel like you can't wake up from?
see pete at heather thursday at 3:15. by grateful bread, where they have the best soup in the world.
see pete at heather thursday at 3:15. by grateful bread, where they have the best soup in the world.
love transcends
love transcends understanding
as it should
the love that transcends understanding
is to be free
it need not be granted any permission
or blessing of any past
it is born of the moment
as each cell in our body
is born each moment
we are changing
we are becoming who we'd most
love to become
it is our evolution
is our growth
it is our truth
it is the love
we've abandoned each past moment for
because it only enriches it all.
it only enriches us all.
as it should
the love that transcends understanding
is to be free
it need not be granted any permission
or blessing of any past
it is born of the moment
as each cell in our body
is born each moment
we are changing
we are becoming who we'd most
love to become
it is our evolution
is our growth
it is our truth
it is the love
we've abandoned each past moment for
because it only enriches it all.
it only enriches us all.
flow
you have to release yourself into the flow
of the life that you have created for
yourself
out of the deepest desires of your heart
only you know why you pick up that book
why you pick up on that scent
why that body moves you
to touch
why that voice
begs by your ears to be heard
only you know why you crave what you do
why you crave the partnership
that you do
only you know how to pursue
the dreams you have
for yourself
so release into the flow
of the life you are presented
the funnest part is the surprises
that come
which were
more than you'd imagined
more a combination of your own energies
than you ever expected to live.
of the life that you have created for
yourself
out of the deepest desires of your heart
only you know why you pick up that book
why you pick up on that scent
why that body moves you
to touch
why that voice
begs by your ears to be heard
only you know why you crave what you do
why you crave the partnership
that you do
only you know how to pursue
the dreams you have
for yourself
so release into the flow
of the life you are presented
the funnest part is the surprises
that come
which were
more than you'd imagined
more a combination of your own energies
than you ever expected to live.
an idealist
i want to be an idealist
i want to believe we can all
have our dreams
we can all have our journeys
we can make them as ideal
as we dream them to be
without controlling
any other human being
what we share in our dreams
we can share
and live
and we can remember
the past was a dream of its own
and strive higher
and happier
and wish the same
for every living creature
that we may all evolve
into our most glorious self
into the self that is loving and giving
to ourselves and our deepest happiness
which only we can find for ourselves
and when we find it
we will never give up in finding
it possible
we will never give up in making
our audacious hopes
our audacious reality
we are not held back
by money or fear
we are not held back
by the expectations of other people
because our ultimate being
exists in the framework
that we can make anything happen
to this oneself is the dream
to make it, whatever it is, happen for you,
and if it involves others,
by the full consent of their heart and mind.
we can love who we love
we can live the lives we want to live
without fear
because fear is the only thing
that holds us back
and guilt
guilt is the past
guilt is the surrender
of one's own heart to another
and that can never lead
to true happiness
true love is the true surrender
to what two people naturally share
it cannot be shaped by any obligation
of power and submission
true happiness can only flourish
for us all
when our unfettered hearts
love truly
living truly means
living by our hearts
and being true about
how we must live
in our own greatest joy
we support the happiness of others
by holding strong to our own hearts
only then can we all live the dream
of living the dream of our lives
all together
only then can we be
who we were meant to be
when we adapt to the new possibilities
that are presented
to our souls
and when they fit
we open up into a
bigger and bigger soul
so we can set an example
for all the souls still growing
so when we merge the final time
our light is glorious and luminous
based on deep feeling
shared and lived
this is the life force
the force of our hearts, and minds
this is why the beauty of life
is that it's no chore
to take care of yourself
when you let your heart live.
when you let all hearts live.
i want to believe we can all
have our dreams
we can all have our journeys
we can make them as ideal
as we dream them to be
without controlling
any other human being
what we share in our dreams
we can share
and live
and we can remember
the past was a dream of its own
and strive higher
and happier
and wish the same
for every living creature
that we may all evolve
into our most glorious self
into the self that is loving and giving
to ourselves and our deepest happiness
which only we can find for ourselves
and when we find it
we will never give up in finding
it possible
we will never give up in making
our audacious hopes
our audacious reality
we are not held back
by money or fear
we are not held back
by the expectations of other people
because our ultimate being
exists in the framework
that we can make anything happen
to this oneself is the dream
to make it, whatever it is, happen for you,
and if it involves others,
by the full consent of their heart and mind.
we can love who we love
we can live the lives we want to live
without fear
because fear is the only thing
that holds us back
and guilt
guilt is the past
guilt is the surrender
of one's own heart to another
and that can never lead
to true happiness
true love is the true surrender
to what two people naturally share
it cannot be shaped by any obligation
of power and submission
true happiness can only flourish
for us all
when our unfettered hearts
love truly
living truly means
living by our hearts
and being true about
how we must live
in our own greatest joy
we support the happiness of others
by holding strong to our own hearts
only then can we all live the dream
of living the dream of our lives
all together
only then can we be
who we were meant to be
when we adapt to the new possibilities
that are presented
to our souls
and when they fit
we open up into a
bigger and bigger soul
so we can set an example
for all the souls still growing
so when we merge the final time
our light is glorious and luminous
based on deep feeling
shared and lived
this is the life force
the force of our hearts, and minds
this is why the beauty of life
is that it's no chore
to take care of yourself
when you let your heart live.
when you let all hearts live.
liz's wisdom
yoga was dripping with liz wisdom today, and the stories of my own mind that i need to tell right now.
first, we were practicing balancing. practicing being balanced is very challenging for me right now. we went to the wall. we had to learn that we can touch the wall for balance. we can know that it's there (available in the form it can provide)... but, we have to learn to be balanced on our own. we can know the wall is there, maybe touch it, but ultimately, we need to be balanced bodies, able to place our bodies where we need to be as we're able to get there, as our journey takes us. we can't be mad at our bodies for where they are. we just have to have positive thoughts, imagine the future we want, and create it. take our bodies there.
the body regenerates every 5 years. we get a whole new body. the thoughts we give our cells shape that body. we could run a marathon at 88, if we give our body those messages, if we practice. exercise makes our cells feel good, gives us positive energy.
it reminds me of a friend of mine who is a rabbit. he likes to dart from place to place without making conflict. he happens to live with a monkey. she likes to chatter and chatter. sometimes he wants to dart, but feels like he can't. lucky me, a horse, the rabbit likes my company. horses are supposed to be attractive and popular to the opposite sex, you know, but i prefer this rabbit... i hear someone saying "it's an addiction, for sure," outside of this five willows office, and i hear that. i guess we get addicted to the good feelings. but sometimes, we have to be balanced on our own, or get our bodies there somehow, while only touching the wall. even without.
i thought of a time when i was hanging with z and her friend jc. z was really in an acting place. but the way she was acting that night made me uncomfortable. it wasn't meeting my needs. i love z, and i like to take in a good performance, and be appreciative, but that night, i was getting really annoyed. i didn't feel like i wanted to be an audience anymore, but i also didn't know how to leave. i didn't know how to participate, and i didn't know how to leave. when i finally left, my exit made her upset. i love z. i didn't want to make her upset. she was mad at me for awhile, and i had to learn to deal with it. talk to other people. that has happened with c a lot, too. pisces are sensitive and can make you feel like you need to be uber-sensitive.
but, clint and bones kind of gave me a wake-up call. i felt bad for hurting z. they said i shouldn't. they said if i was annoyed, i should leave. i didn't understand. why should i hurt z? because you don't want to be there. sometimes in z's life she has an audience. other times she just takes care of herself. she likes it that way.
amy was pointing out that my ex is a "stand-up" guy. that night i had to be a stand-up girl. i had to stand-up, because i didn't want to be there, even though it would hurt z. the thing is, if we don't stand up when we need to leave, we'll never feel balanced. then we really can't give much of our heart and mind to anyone, including ourselves, and that's no good. we'll be stuck in our heads, an audience to a show we don't want to watch anymore.
every good tv watcher knows to change the channel. there will always be another viewer somewhere.
liz also talked about embracing what we attract. we've attracted it because we were looking for it. two people walk around looking for the same thing, and eventually they find each other. then you figure out what to do with the people who have come into your path, this new soul who wasn't here yesterday but is here now. wow. what kind of excitement does this bring? do i want to stay on this path?
the rabbit likes to dart. the monkey likes to chatter and stay busy. the horse likes to talk and be admired. somehow we learn to deal with our natures.
the taurus is stable and hates to change. the pisces is sensitive and artistic.
we're given our nature. we're given this life. we go, go, and go, and then we're gone.
ps. i invite anyone in lincoln to go to five willows. it is open to all. helpful and good for all.
first, we were practicing balancing. practicing being balanced is very challenging for me right now. we went to the wall. we had to learn that we can touch the wall for balance. we can know that it's there (available in the form it can provide)... but, we have to learn to be balanced on our own. we can know the wall is there, maybe touch it, but ultimately, we need to be balanced bodies, able to place our bodies where we need to be as we're able to get there, as our journey takes us. we can't be mad at our bodies for where they are. we just have to have positive thoughts, imagine the future we want, and create it. take our bodies there.
the body regenerates every 5 years. we get a whole new body. the thoughts we give our cells shape that body. we could run a marathon at 88, if we give our body those messages, if we practice. exercise makes our cells feel good, gives us positive energy.
it reminds me of a friend of mine who is a rabbit. he likes to dart from place to place without making conflict. he happens to live with a monkey. she likes to chatter and chatter. sometimes he wants to dart, but feels like he can't. lucky me, a horse, the rabbit likes my company. horses are supposed to be attractive and popular to the opposite sex, you know, but i prefer this rabbit... i hear someone saying "it's an addiction, for sure," outside of this five willows office, and i hear that. i guess we get addicted to the good feelings. but sometimes, we have to be balanced on our own, or get our bodies there somehow, while only touching the wall. even without.
i thought of a time when i was hanging with z and her friend jc. z was really in an acting place. but the way she was acting that night made me uncomfortable. it wasn't meeting my needs. i love z, and i like to take in a good performance, and be appreciative, but that night, i was getting really annoyed. i didn't feel like i wanted to be an audience anymore, but i also didn't know how to leave. i didn't know how to participate, and i didn't know how to leave. when i finally left, my exit made her upset. i love z. i didn't want to make her upset. she was mad at me for awhile, and i had to learn to deal with it. talk to other people. that has happened with c a lot, too. pisces are sensitive and can make you feel like you need to be uber-sensitive.
but, clint and bones kind of gave me a wake-up call. i felt bad for hurting z. they said i shouldn't. they said if i was annoyed, i should leave. i didn't understand. why should i hurt z? because you don't want to be there. sometimes in z's life she has an audience. other times she just takes care of herself. she likes it that way.
amy was pointing out that my ex is a "stand-up" guy. that night i had to be a stand-up girl. i had to stand-up, because i didn't want to be there, even though it would hurt z. the thing is, if we don't stand up when we need to leave, we'll never feel balanced. then we really can't give much of our heart and mind to anyone, including ourselves, and that's no good. we'll be stuck in our heads, an audience to a show we don't want to watch anymore.
every good tv watcher knows to change the channel. there will always be another viewer somewhere.
liz also talked about embracing what we attract. we've attracted it because we were looking for it. two people walk around looking for the same thing, and eventually they find each other. then you figure out what to do with the people who have come into your path, this new soul who wasn't here yesterday but is here now. wow. what kind of excitement does this bring? do i want to stay on this path?
the rabbit likes to dart. the monkey likes to chatter and stay busy. the horse likes to talk and be admired. somehow we learn to deal with our natures.
the taurus is stable and hates to change. the pisces is sensitive and artistic.
we're given our nature. we're given this life. we go, go, and go, and then we're gone.
ps. i invite anyone in lincoln to go to five willows. it is open to all. helpful and good for all.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Longfellow: "Not enjoyment, and not sorrow
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today!"
Robert Kennedy: "Some men see things as they are and ask ""Why"", I dream things that never were and say, ""Why not""?
J.M.Keller: "Much thunder, little rain", "A man of words and not of deeds is like a garden filled with weeds"
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today!"
Robert Kennedy: "Some men see things as they are and ask ""Why"", I dream things that never were and say, ""Why not""?
J.M.Keller: "Much thunder, little rain", "A man of words and not of deeds is like a garden filled with weeds"
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
I Ask the Possible
I Ask the Possible
I ask the possible: love me forever.
Love me with all desire
Love me with the single-mindedness
of your most precious gift.
When the world has stretched open
its heart, its spirit
and put me into your arms
hold me
beside, underneath,
and on top of you
and keep me there.
Love me every night
Love me with the fullness
of every thought
that strays to me, our fullness
and satisfaction together.
Do not discard this.
Love me not out of the
weight of time
but the fullness of your heart
and spirit
Love me not as a job
but as your avocation
your bliss
the gift we have given
each other.
Love me for the meaning
of who we are
and have been together
Love me for each beautiful
precious memory
and for the potential
within us
and our days together
for every memory to come.
Love me in a new place
in a place not of
what has been known before
but out of what we know
is possible.
Love me each day
not to counsel the past
but to LIVE the present
and the future
Love me for the future
and I will make
the possible
a simple act
by loving you, loving you as I do.
I ask the possible: love me forever.
Love me with all desire
Love me with the single-mindedness
of your most precious gift.
When the world has stretched open
its heart, its spirit
and put me into your arms
hold me
beside, underneath,
and on top of you
and keep me there.
Love me every night
Love me with the fullness
of every thought
that strays to me, our fullness
and satisfaction together.
Do not discard this.
Love me not out of the
weight of time
but the fullness of your heart
and spirit
Love me not as a job
but as your avocation
your bliss
the gift we have given
each other.
Love me for the meaning
of who we are
and have been together
Love me for each beautiful
precious memory
and for the potential
within us
and our days together
for every memory to come.
Love me in a new place
in a place not of
what has been known before
but out of what we know
is possible.
Love me each day
not to counsel the past
but to LIVE the present
and the future
Love me for the future
and I will make
the possible
a simple act
by loving you, loving you as I do.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
food for thought
"We are in need of a reflective activism born out of humility, not arrogance. Reflection, with deep time spent in the consideration of others, opens the door to becoming a compassionate participant in the world."
~Terry Tempest Williams
~Terry Tempest Williams
blog
blog,
i am sad. i don't think anyone reads this anymore (as i don't write this anymore), but that's not why i'm sad. i'm sad because i try to do all the right things, and i don't know where it leads me.
i'm reading the book the hero within because my therapist recommended it. i wrote the first 5 pages of a novel tonight for class. i tried to capture what i'm going through. i guess in many ways it's the feelings of not feeling in control of your life, of facing the unexpected, in its good and its very bad and scary.
i don't know what's going to happen, blog. i only hope i can find enough mellow music and chex cereal to get me through it. and that eventually, i'll come to an unstuck place where i want to go on a walk outside. if i can get to that place, i know i'll exactly where i'll go. for today.
i am sad. i don't think anyone reads this anymore (as i don't write this anymore), but that's not why i'm sad. i'm sad because i try to do all the right things, and i don't know where it leads me.
i'm reading the book the hero within because my therapist recommended it. i wrote the first 5 pages of a novel tonight for class. i tried to capture what i'm going through. i guess in many ways it's the feelings of not feeling in control of your life, of facing the unexpected, in its good and its very bad and scary.
i don't know what's going to happen, blog. i only hope i can find enough mellow music and chex cereal to get me through it. and that eventually, i'll come to an unstuck place where i want to go on a walk outside. if i can get to that place, i know i'll exactly where i'll go. for today.
Friday, January 16, 2009
hi
dear blog,
i feel like we've fallen a bit out of touch... but i want you to know i'm still here, and my fingers still work.
i'm listening to the nip/tuck soundtrack. the song is "so damn beautiful." what a beautiful sentiment. someone is so beautiful they're damn beautiful. so damn beautiful. does this speak to the power we feel someone has over us when we find them attractive? the vulnerability that we experience? perhaps being in love is the state of being not only mutually vulnerable but hopefully equally assured of the other's vulnerability and interest?
the interesting thing the actual state of in love, however we define it. does it diminish? does it deepen? this is the question... and what circumstances lead to those states?
do we really expect love to last? in some cases, it seems to. i'm wondering if in those cases the couple experiences continual growth, probably despite what they share economically... i would think they would have to be mutually invested in something other than a bank account... maybe vacations? kids? pets? but those are outer things... is there a set of conditions/compatibility that leads to the continued positive emotions?
my therapist pete said ideally both members of the couple maintain one another at their highest level of happiness and function (while still being human)... i guess in order to do this, both parties would have to feel secure... i was looking at a friend's e-harmony site, and one of the guys of her potential suitors said he's looking for 100%... this is an interesting idea... he said he could handle 80% or 90%... how would he know, say, if she was really 75%, and would he then be out of there? he said he wanted to allow for just off-days... are those days really off, though? maybe those are the real days... this is sounding pessimistic...
pete also says that you should make decisions regarding relationships from a positive place... this is assuming one can always get to a positive place regardless of their status within the relationship... hopefully this is true... but sometimes people are in these constant states of turmoil, though... what then?
well, turmoil probably does wane in times of pleasure... does that mean we should privilege pleasure? i think i have all kinds of questions...
i cleaned an important instrument tonight. i think clarity could be a cool name for a child... this cd is quite sexy to be listening to myself... i'm liking it... i find myself a fun person to hang out with by myself... this is a cool thing to learn... witnessing my own consciousness appear on a computer screen is sort of fun.
i'm taking a fiction class, and jack kerouac has some great advice... wanna hear some?
(lyrics: you give me fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight... fever in the morning... fever all through the night... everybody's got the fever (wouldn't that be nice)... that is something you oughta know (they say)... (they say) fever started long ago... (i guess so to have such a world population)....
if you could adopt a child for free, like you would never have to pay anything (all paid for by the government maybe, even toys/education) -- would you? well, it would be cool if we could take shifts with the kids... like there would be a pool of kids that we could go pick up (not that we would keep them in pools, but they could use them)... and kids would be exposed to all kinds of good people because we would be all kinds of people... but, in the long-run the idea of parents is okay... not that we stay connected to our parents like a placenta forever, but it is nice that these people who hopefully loved each other in some kind of way get a kick out of you coming from their genes together, so they give you more attention than anyone else and hope you develop well... i just think we'd get better outcomes if all of that were free... i just wish everything were free... could an economy work like that? where people volunteer to do things? i'll live in the big house, i'll live in the small one, i'll build a new one with that wood... like if we all just worked what we felt like working... why should anyone's time be more valuable than anyone else's? why should we have all of this anxiety over money? god, it's crazy. i mean we live once... now, without money, maybe we'd all be volunteering to travel all the time, and then we'd run out of gas, but some people would enjoy learning about new forms of energy... i mean, it would just be a learning/experiencing world...
what do you think about dancing? why will we do it by ourselves, or maybe in front of some people, but not others? does this go back to the idea of having one lover with whom we might have a kid, and then we're parents together, but only the lovers can see each other dance (or not, if they're embarrassed, but maybe they only have sex in the dark)
i think the world could be really different if we start thinking about it/our experiences really differently...
i like the idea of positive thoughts... i used to think it was bologna for people to try to think positive thoughts... like, hey, if you're not feeling it, don't fake it... but we do choose which positive thoughts we have, and we do want to be going in a positive direction all the time...
it's interesting how people choose between such positive thoughts as, for example, i'm gonna love this guy, i'm gonna move to california, i'm gonna apply for this job, i'm gonna live in this place... the idea of intuition, following yourself is something... to make decisions, i try to imagine how i'd feel if i did the other thing... or, i might get in my car and see if i'm ready to drive to california. if not, i think about what i'm staying here for and how powerful that is... if we didn't have money to worry about, we'd all work like this. but, i'm afraid i'd be in santa fe one week, portland the next... i'm just wondering where we'd all end up if we traveled freely... if we didn't have money, then maybe no one would have to be a nurse... but if we had good public transportation and we took good care of ourselves, maybe we wouldn't need nurses? well, some people might still enjoy "nursing"...
we would still have musicians for sure... would we have actors? would it be nearly as fun if they weren't being paid and could travel freely? i wonder if we could ever get rid of money. like what if we just said this doesn't count anymore. i guess it would come down to growing food... but again, i just like the volunteer idea. how could we get that passed?
i feel like we've fallen a bit out of touch... but i want you to know i'm still here, and my fingers still work.
i'm listening to the nip/tuck soundtrack. the song is "so damn beautiful." what a beautiful sentiment. someone is so beautiful they're damn beautiful. so damn beautiful. does this speak to the power we feel someone has over us when we find them attractive? the vulnerability that we experience? perhaps being in love is the state of being not only mutually vulnerable but hopefully equally assured of the other's vulnerability and interest?
the interesting thing the actual state of in love, however we define it. does it diminish? does it deepen? this is the question... and what circumstances lead to those states?
do we really expect love to last? in some cases, it seems to. i'm wondering if in those cases the couple experiences continual growth, probably despite what they share economically... i would think they would have to be mutually invested in something other than a bank account... maybe vacations? kids? pets? but those are outer things... is there a set of conditions/compatibility that leads to the continued positive emotions?
my therapist pete said ideally both members of the couple maintain one another at their highest level of happiness and function (while still being human)... i guess in order to do this, both parties would have to feel secure... i was looking at a friend's e-harmony site, and one of the guys of her potential suitors said he's looking for 100%... this is an interesting idea... he said he could handle 80% or 90%... how would he know, say, if she was really 75%, and would he then be out of there? he said he wanted to allow for just off-days... are those days really off, though? maybe those are the real days... this is sounding pessimistic...
pete also says that you should make decisions regarding relationships from a positive place... this is assuming one can always get to a positive place regardless of their status within the relationship... hopefully this is true... but sometimes people are in these constant states of turmoil, though... what then?
well, turmoil probably does wane in times of pleasure... does that mean we should privilege pleasure? i think i have all kinds of questions...
i cleaned an important instrument tonight. i think clarity could be a cool name for a child... this cd is quite sexy to be listening to myself... i'm liking it... i find myself a fun person to hang out with by myself... this is a cool thing to learn... witnessing my own consciousness appear on a computer screen is sort of fun.
i'm taking a fiction class, and jack kerouac has some great advice... wanna hear some?
(lyrics: you give me fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight... fever in the morning... fever all through the night... everybody's got the fever (wouldn't that be nice)... that is something you oughta know (they say)... (they say) fever started long ago... (i guess so to have such a world population)....
if you could adopt a child for free, like you would never have to pay anything (all paid for by the government maybe, even toys/education) -- would you? well, it would be cool if we could take shifts with the kids... like there would be a pool of kids that we could go pick up (not that we would keep them in pools, but they could use them)... and kids would be exposed to all kinds of good people because we would be all kinds of people... but, in the long-run the idea of parents is okay... not that we stay connected to our parents like a placenta forever, but it is nice that these people who hopefully loved each other in some kind of way get a kick out of you coming from their genes together, so they give you more attention than anyone else and hope you develop well... i just think we'd get better outcomes if all of that were free... i just wish everything were free... could an economy work like that? where people volunteer to do things? i'll live in the big house, i'll live in the small one, i'll build a new one with that wood... like if we all just worked what we felt like working... why should anyone's time be more valuable than anyone else's? why should we have all of this anxiety over money? god, it's crazy. i mean we live once... now, without money, maybe we'd all be volunteering to travel all the time, and then we'd run out of gas, but some people would enjoy learning about new forms of energy... i mean, it would just be a learning/experiencing world...
what do you think about dancing? why will we do it by ourselves, or maybe in front of some people, but not others? does this go back to the idea of having one lover with whom we might have a kid, and then we're parents together, but only the lovers can see each other dance (or not, if they're embarrassed, but maybe they only have sex in the dark)
i think the world could be really different if we start thinking about it/our experiences really differently...
i like the idea of positive thoughts... i used to think it was bologna for people to try to think positive thoughts... like, hey, if you're not feeling it, don't fake it... but we do choose which positive thoughts we have, and we do want to be going in a positive direction all the time...
it's interesting how people choose between such positive thoughts as, for example, i'm gonna love this guy, i'm gonna move to california, i'm gonna apply for this job, i'm gonna live in this place... the idea of intuition, following yourself is something... to make decisions, i try to imagine how i'd feel if i did the other thing... or, i might get in my car and see if i'm ready to drive to california. if not, i think about what i'm staying here for and how powerful that is... if we didn't have money to worry about, we'd all work like this. but, i'm afraid i'd be in santa fe one week, portland the next... i'm just wondering where we'd all end up if we traveled freely... if we didn't have money, then maybe no one would have to be a nurse... but if we had good public transportation and we took good care of ourselves, maybe we wouldn't need nurses? well, some people might still enjoy "nursing"...
we would still have musicians for sure... would we have actors? would it be nearly as fun if they weren't being paid and could travel freely? i wonder if we could ever get rid of money. like what if we just said this doesn't count anymore. i guess it would come down to growing food... but again, i just like the volunteer idea. how could we get that passed?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
last word for now
A thousand half-loves
must be forsaken to take
one whole heart home.
Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy,
absentminded. Someone sober
will worry about things going badly.
Let the lover be.
Lovers don't finally
meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.
must be forsaken to take
one whole heart home.
Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy,
absentminded. Someone sober
will worry about things going badly.
Let the lover be.
Lovers don't finally
meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.
OPEN SECRET
Love is an open secret, the most obvious thing in the world and the most hidden, with no why to how it keeps its mystery. Sufis say the genesis of lovers meeting is God's sweetest secret.
There is a truth that comes with following the energies, and there is a love, a truth-knowing essence, in the innermost heart.
Bawa Muhaiyaddeen says,
Do not ever fight or argue, because for God there are no fights and no arguments. For that One everything is love; everything is in the form of love, compassion, and truth. May God provide you with the blessings and grace to live in that state.
There is a truth that comes with following the energies, and there is a love, a truth-knowing essence, in the innermost heart.
Bawa Muhaiyaddeen says,
Do not ever fight or argue, because for God there are no fights and no arguments. For that One everything is love; everything is in the form of love, compassion, and truth. May God provide you with the blessings and grace to live in that state.
TWO WAYS OF RUNNING
A certain man had a jealous wife and a very
appealing maidservant.
The wife was careful not to leave
them alone, ever.
For six years they were never left
in a room together.
But then, one day at the public bath
the wife remembered she'd left
her silver basin at home.
"Please, go get the basin,"
she told her maid. The girl jumped to the task knowing she
would finally get to be alone with the master.
She ran joyfully. She flew. Desire took them both
so quickly they didn't latch the door.
With great speed
they joined. When bodies blend in copulation,
spirits also merge.
Meanwhile, the wife back
at the bathhouse is washing her hair.
"What have I done!"
I've set cotton wool on fire! I've put the ram in
with the ewe!"
She washed the clay soap off and ran, fixing
her chador about her as she went.
The maid ran for love.
The wife ran out of jealousy and fear.
There is a great difference.
A mystic lover flies moment to moment. The fearful
ascetic drags along month to month.
The length of a day
for a lover may be fifty thousand years!
There's no way to understand this
with your mind. You must burst open!
Love is a quality
of God. Fear is an attribute of those who think
they serve GOd,
but actually they're preoccupied with the penis
and vagina.
Rule-keepers run on foot along the surface.
Lovers move like lightning and wind.
No contest.
Theologians mumble, rumble-dumble, necessity and free
will, while lover and beloved
pull themselves into each other.
The worried wife
reaches the door and opens it.
The maid is
disheveled, flushed, unable to speak.
The husband begins his five-times
prayer. As though experimenting
with clothes, he holds up some flaps and edges. She sees
his testicles and penis so wet,
semen still dribbling out,
spurts of jism and vaginal juices
of the maid.
The wife slaps him
on the side of the head,
"Is this the way a man prays,
with his balls? Does your penis
long for union like this?
Is that why her legs are so covered
with this stuff?"
These are good questions.
People who repress desires
often turn, suddenly,
into hypocrites.
appealing maidservant.
The wife was careful not to leave
them alone, ever.
For six years they were never left
in a room together.
But then, one day at the public bath
the wife remembered she'd left
her silver basin at home.
"Please, go get the basin,"
she told her maid. The girl jumped to the task knowing she
would finally get to be alone with the master.
She ran joyfully. She flew. Desire took them both
so quickly they didn't latch the door.
With great speed
they joined. When bodies blend in copulation,
spirits also merge.
Meanwhile, the wife back
at the bathhouse is washing her hair.
"What have I done!"
I've set cotton wool on fire! I've put the ram in
with the ewe!"
She washed the clay soap off and ran, fixing
her chador about her as she went.
The maid ran for love.
The wife ran out of jealousy and fear.
There is a great difference.
A mystic lover flies moment to moment. The fearful
ascetic drags along month to month.
The length of a day
for a lover may be fifty thousand years!
There's no way to understand this
with your mind. You must burst open!
Love is a quality
of God. Fear is an attribute of those who think
they serve GOd,
but actually they're preoccupied with the penis
and vagina.
Rule-keepers run on foot along the surface.
Lovers move like lightning and wind.
No contest.
Theologians mumble, rumble-dumble, necessity and free
will, while lover and beloved
pull themselves into each other.
The worried wife
reaches the door and opens it.
The maid is
disheveled, flushed, unable to speak.
The husband begins his five-times
prayer. As though experimenting
with clothes, he holds up some flaps and edges. She sees
his testicles and penis so wet,
semen still dribbling out,
spurts of jism and vaginal juices
of the maid.
The wife slaps him
on the side of the head,
"Is this the way a man prays,
with his balls? Does your penis
long for union like this?
Is that why her legs are so covered
with this stuff?"
These are good questions.
People who repress desires
often turn, suddenly,
into hypocrites.
sacrifice
Attar says that if you want to learn the secrets of love that your soul can know, "You will sacrifice evertyhing. You will lose what you have considered valuable, but eventually you'll hear the voice you've most wanted to hear saying, Yes. Come in."
Another Sufi, Junnaiyd, recommends that we JUMP! "Plunge headfirst into the ocean of your loving. Then look around patiently for the pearl that is yours."
Really there is no end to love's unfolding, and no one can tell you how yours should or will go.
Everyone has in them the great love that Rumi's poetry comes out of. It is the given that never goes away.
Another Sufi, Junnaiyd, recommends that we JUMP! "Plunge headfirst into the ocean of your loving. Then look around patiently for the pearl that is yours."
Really there is no end to love's unfolding, and no one can tell you how yours should or will go.
Everyone has in them the great love that Rumi's poetry comes out of. It is the given that never goes away.
Grief
Fierce Grace (now #1 in my Netflix queue), a film about Ram Dass's life and particularly the stroke, focuses on the use of the starkest tragedies, not just his, to open the heart and help us find the vital core of consciousness, the soul... In it, a woman's lover dies, and in her dream she asks him where he has gone. He says, "Listen. The love we had was wonderful, but that is small peanuts to what's ahead for you, and when that love comes, I'll be part of it.
Ram Dass (according to Rumi's translator) ecstatically tastes the truth of what the dead lover says. No sticky possessiveness, no hanging on to the past. Grief opens us to more love, and the new love builds with the former, and there's miraculous expansion. Rumi's translator says that this rare movie gives off the fragrance of enlightened love.
Ram Dass (according to Rumi's translator) ecstatically tastes the truth of what the dead lover says. No sticky possessiveness, no hanging on to the past. Grief opens us to more love, and the new love builds with the former, and there's miraculous expansion. Rumi's translator says that this rare movie gives off the fragrance of enlightened love.
NO BETTER GIFT
When the ocean comes to you as a lover,
marry, at once, quickly,
for God's sake!
Don't postpone it!
Existence has no better gift.
No amount of searching
will find this.
A perfect falcon, for no reason,
has landed on your shoulder,
and become yours.
~
This moment this love comes to rest in me,
many beings in one being.
In one wheat grain a thousand sheaf stacks.
Inside the needle's eye, a turning night of stars.
~
The clear bead at the center changes everything.
There are no edges to my loving now.
You've heard it said there's a window
that opens from one mind to another,
but if there's no wall, there's no need
for fitting the window, or the latch.
~
A thousand half-loves
must be forsaken to take
one whole heart home.
marry, at once, quickly,
for God's sake!
Don't postpone it!
Existence has no better gift.
No amount of searching
will find this.
A perfect falcon, for no reason,
has landed on your shoulder,
and become yours.
~
This moment this love comes to rest in me,
many beings in one being.
In one wheat grain a thousand sheaf stacks.
Inside the needle's eye, a turning night of stars.
~
The clear bead at the center changes everything.
There are no edges to my loving now.
You've heard it said there's a window
that opens from one mind to another,
but if there's no wall, there's no need
for fitting the window, or the latch.
~
A thousand half-loves
must be forsaken to take
one whole heart home.
the superabundance of ordinary being
Says Rumi's translator: Love is the connection with spirit, and one way it flows is through form. That's the state of rapture Rumi praises, the joy of being inside an intersection with the divine, which is what this world is.
"Truly being here is glorious," says Rilke in the Seventh Duino Elegy, and in the Ninth,"
Isn't it the secret intent
of this taciturn earth, when it forces lovers together,
that inside their boundless emotion all things may
shudder with joy?
This resonant trembling of the earth with lovers, if the suberabundance of being...
"Truly being here is glorious," says Rilke in the Seventh Duino Elegy, and in the Ninth,"
Isn't it the secret intent
of this taciturn earth, when it forces lovers together,
that inside their boundless emotion all things may
shudder with joy?
This resonant trembling of the earth with lovers, if the suberabundance of being...
Response to Your Question
Why ask about behavior when you are soul-essence,
and a way of seeing into presence!
Plus you're with us!
How could you worry?
You may as well free a few words from
your vocabulary.
Why and how and impossible. Open
the mouth-cage
and let those fly away.
We were all born by
accident, but still this wandering caravan
will make camp in perfection.
Forget the nonsense categories of there and here,
race, nation, religion,
starting point and destination.
You are soul, and you are love,
not a sprite or an angel or a human being!
You're a
Godman-womanGod-manGod-Godwoman!
No more questions now
as to what it is we're doing here.
~~~~
If you want what visible reality can give,
you're an employee.
If you want the unseen world,
you're not living your truth.
Both wishes are foolish,
but you'll be forgiven for forgetting
that what you really want is
love's confusing joy.
and a way of seeing into presence!
Plus you're with us!
How could you worry?
You may as well free a few words from
your vocabulary.
Why and how and impossible. Open
the mouth-cage
and let those fly away.
We were all born by
accident, but still this wandering caravan
will make camp in perfection.
Forget the nonsense categories of there and here,
race, nation, religion,
starting point and destination.
You are soul, and you are love,
not a sprite or an angel or a human being!
You're a
Godman-womanGod-manGod-Godwoman!
No more questions now
as to what it is we're doing here.
~~~~
If you want what visible reality can give,
you're an employee.
If you want the unseen world,
you're not living your truth.
Both wishes are foolish,
but you'll be forgiven for forgetting
that what you really want is
love's confusing joy.
Rexroth's late afternoon love poem
"When We With Sappho"
Stop reading. Lean back. Give me your mouth.
Your grace is as beautiful as a sleep.
You move against me like a wave
That moves in sleep
Your body spreads across my brain
Like a bird-filled summer;
Not like a body, not like a separate thing,
But like a nimbus that hovers
Over every other thing in all the world.
Sufis say there are three ways of being with the mystery: prayer, then a step up from that, meditation, and a step up from that, conversation, the mystical exchange they call sohbet.
Stop reading. Lean back. Give me your mouth.
Your grace is as beautiful as a sleep.
You move against me like a wave
That moves in sleep
Your body spreads across my brain
Like a bird-filled summer;
Not like a body, not like a separate thing,
But like a nimbus that hovers
Over every other thing in all the world.
Sufis say there are three ways of being with the mystery: prayer, then a step up from that, meditation, and a step up from that, conversation, the mystical exchange they call sohbet.
Who You Talking To?
Rumi's translator says:
I have a friend who, when she wants to know who I am seeing, who I am in love with, asks, Who you talking to? The exchange of deep friendship makes a fine entrance into love and trust, into the mysterious action that moves through the eyes, the voice, the heart.
Rumi wonders, Can you see these escapees, the ones who have gotten free of their personalities and into the true self? He celebrates the freedom of those escapees, how their friendship dissolves into everything: what anybody says, whatever happens.
I have a friend who, when she wants to know who I am seeing, who I am in love with, asks, Who you talking to? The exchange of deep friendship makes a fine entrance into love and trust, into the mysterious action that moves through the eyes, the voice, the heart.
Rumi wonders, Can you see these escapees, the ones who have gotten free of their personalities and into the true self? He celebrates the freedom of those escapees, how their friendship dissolves into everything: what anybody says, whatever happens.
Where You Love From
Look inside and find where a person
loves from. That's the reality,
not what they say.
. . . .
In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.
. . . .
loves from. That's the reality,
not what they say.
. . . .
In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.
. . . .
rumi's wandering
rumi's translator says: "Rumi is way happier than sex and orgasms, his wandering more conscious and free."
~
Excuse my wandering
How can one be orderly with this?
It's like counting leaves in a garden,
along with the song notes of partridges,
and crows. Sometimes organization
and computation become absurd.
~
FIVE THINGS
I have five things to say,
five fingers to give into your grace.
First, when I was apart from you,
this world did not exist, nor any other.
Second, whatever I was looking for
was always you.
Third, why did I ever learn to count to three?
Fourth, my cornfield is burning!
Fifth, this finger stands for Rabia,
and this is for someone else.
Is there a difference?
Are these words or tears?
Is weeping speech?
What shall I do, my love?
So the lover speaks, and everyone around
begins to cry with him, laughing crazily,
moaning in the spreading union
of lover and beloved.
This is the true religion. All others
are thrown-away bandages beside it.
This is the sema of slavery and mastery
dancing together. This is not-being.
I know these dancers.
Day and night I sing their songs
in this phenomenal cage.
~
Excuse my wandering
How can one be orderly with this?
It's like counting leaves in a garden,
along with the song notes of partridges,
and crows. Sometimes organization
and computation become absurd.
~
FIVE THINGS
I have five things to say,
five fingers to give into your grace.
First, when I was apart from you,
this world did not exist, nor any other.
Second, whatever I was looking for
was always you.
Third, why did I ever learn to count to three?
Fourth, my cornfield is burning!
Fifth, this finger stands for Rabia,
and this is for someone else.
Is there a difference?
Are these words or tears?
Is weeping speech?
What shall I do, my love?
So the lover speaks, and everyone around
begins to cry with him, laughing crazily,
moaning in the spreading union
of lover and beloved.
This is the true religion. All others
are thrown-away bandages beside it.
This is the sema of slavery and mastery
dancing together. This is not-being.
I know these dancers.
Day and night I sing their songs
in this phenomenal cage.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
elegy
father meditation
mother yoga
partner of utopia
i give birth
to new layers
of myself
watch myself
blossom
an unfolding lotus
try not to
focus
on the uncertainties
of my own burgeoning
fertile desires
of continuing childhood
amidst a
budding adulthood
loving relationship
while seeds of security
sprout within
soft, white roots
poke their way out
searching for rich soil
free of pesticides
that would wither
my spark
or yours
i want to
be believed
cherished
have my hand held
body caressed
watched with
growing delight
as i dance
give me the security
of tomorrow
visions of
fertile decades
even if you're
not sure
how many
you've got
i want
to take root
here
and grow
not some
continuing stream
but a path
with you whose
yellow brick road
leads in and out
always home
to the same place
as we people
our tribe
together
purple
our hearts
in the blooming
of each others' irises
you are god
and so am i
. . .
for five months
i watched
as we formed
a chrysallis
around an
unexpected
gestating love
one weekend
we wanted to
spend together
i listened furtively
as the calls came in
about your departure
an unexpected arrival
on a sunday
i had a child friend here
to receive you
and we wondered
together
how you would come
you had spent
hours driving
from your first home
to what i hoped
would be your next
as your mind twirled
through your past, present,
future an unknown
but a new destination
tonight
. . .
so many nights
i dreamed
you would be here
now you are
and i know not
what to dream
except that your feet
will keep reaching
beyond the boundaries
of the bed
your soft skin
will stay close
your voice will speak
to me every day
and i will speak, listen,
laugh, stay still, and grow
into my next
formation
let you unfold
into yours
as we dance
and sing the
songs of two hearts
who happened upon
what was bigger
than a mushroom
in a forest
bigger than
a best-selling novel
or a movie on a screen
it was a transformation
of more years
than i have lived
and its duration
direction are uncertain
but now we are
here
. . .
dear flower
lying next to
each other
in the field
of our bed
i tried to give
you my sun
til your sweet
snore grew soft
when i touched
you with love
you wakened
slightly
and i could feel
the waves of
you, your sun
warmed me
with feeling
of your
peaceful force
mind over matter
the persistence
of your freedom-
loving love
a snore
a whinny
is it
a sleeping prayer
for easier breathing?
may not my
lofting dreams
press you
may our stillness
grow
our communion
foster
life, of who
beyond us
we do not know
because it all
matters.
mother yoga
partner of utopia
i give birth
to new layers
of myself
watch myself
blossom
an unfolding lotus
try not to
focus
on the uncertainties
of my own burgeoning
fertile desires
of continuing childhood
amidst a
budding adulthood
loving relationship
while seeds of security
sprout within
soft, white roots
poke their way out
searching for rich soil
free of pesticides
that would wither
my spark
or yours
i want to
be believed
cherished
have my hand held
body caressed
watched with
growing delight
as i dance
give me the security
of tomorrow
visions of
fertile decades
even if you're
not sure
how many
you've got
i want
to take root
here
and grow
not some
continuing stream
but a path
with you whose
yellow brick road
leads in and out
always home
to the same place
as we people
our tribe
together
purple
our hearts
in the blooming
of each others' irises
you are god
and so am i
. . .
for five months
i watched
as we formed
a chrysallis
around an
unexpected
gestating love
one weekend
we wanted to
spend together
i listened furtively
as the calls came in
about your departure
an unexpected arrival
on a sunday
i had a child friend here
to receive you
and we wondered
together
how you would come
you had spent
hours driving
from your first home
to what i hoped
would be your next
as your mind twirled
through your past, present,
future an unknown
but a new destination
tonight
. . .
so many nights
i dreamed
you would be here
now you are
and i know not
what to dream
except that your feet
will keep reaching
beyond the boundaries
of the bed
your soft skin
will stay close
your voice will speak
to me every day
and i will speak, listen,
laugh, stay still, and grow
into my next
formation
let you unfold
into yours
as we dance
and sing the
songs of two hearts
who happened upon
what was bigger
than a mushroom
in a forest
bigger than
a best-selling novel
or a movie on a screen
it was a transformation
of more years
than i have lived
and its duration
direction are uncertain
but now we are
here
. . .
dear flower
lying next to
each other
in the field
of our bed
i tried to give
you my sun
til your sweet
snore grew soft
when i touched
you with love
you wakened
slightly
and i could feel
the waves of
you, your sun
warmed me
with feeling
of your
peaceful force
mind over matter
the persistence
of your freedom-
loving love
a snore
a whinny
is it
a sleeping prayer
for easier breathing?
may not my
lofting dreams
press you
may our stillness
grow
our communion
foster
life, of who
beyond us
we do not know
because it all
matters.
from today's morning almanac (on the way to yoga)
VII
by Wendell Berry
I would not have been a poet
except that I have been in love
alive in this mortal world,
or an essayist except that I
have been bewildered and afraid,
or a storyteller had I not heard
stories passing to me through the air,
or a writer at all except
I have been wakeful at night
and words have come to me
out of their deep caves
needing to be remembered.
But on the days I am lucky
or blessed, I am silent.
I go into the one body
that two make in making marriage
that for all our trying, all
our deaf-and-dumb of speech,
has no tongue. Or I give myself
to gravity, light, and air
and am carried back
to solitary work in fields
and woods, where my hands
rest upon a world unnamed,
complete, unanswerable, and final
as our daily bread and meat.
The way of love leads all ways
to life beyond words, silent
and secret. To serve that triumph
I have done all the rest.
"VII" from the poem "1994" by Wendell Berry, from A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979–1997. © Counterpoint, 1998. Reprinted with permission.
by Wendell Berry
I would not have been a poet
except that I have been in love
alive in this mortal world,
or an essayist except that I
have been bewildered and afraid,
or a storyteller had I not heard
stories passing to me through the air,
or a writer at all except
I have been wakeful at night
and words have come to me
out of their deep caves
needing to be remembered.
But on the days I am lucky
or blessed, I am silent.
I go into the one body
that two make in making marriage
that for all our trying, all
our deaf-and-dumb of speech,
has no tongue. Or I give myself
to gravity, light, and air
and am carried back
to solitary work in fields
and woods, where my hands
rest upon a world unnamed,
complete, unanswerable, and final
as our daily bread and meat.
The way of love leads all ways
to life beyond words, silent
and secret. To serve that triumph
I have done all the rest.
"VII" from the poem "1994" by Wendell Berry, from A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979–1997. © Counterpoint, 1998. Reprinted with permission.
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