Rambling

No one is here. I have not published anything on this blog in a long time, so I am assuming a readership of zero. But if you are here you most certainly are no more no one than I am.

I am someone. I just have no clear sense of self right now.

I have achieved the yoga mantra of nowhere to go, nothing to do, no one to be.

Monday through Friday from 7:30 am to 3:00 pm that is the actual state of my life. I could lay on the couch all day in my pajamas and no one would know or care. And why am I so very not ok with that concept?? Seriously.

It is so quiet in the house that it is agitating. I go out walking in the woods and I notice
how unquiet it is out there. I am hearing more and more layers of wild sound.

I am lonely. A long distance friend commented to me about this yesterday, she said loneliness is real. A lot of times people don't acknowledge that.

I thought this morning, as I stood in a towel, clean,warm, and fresh...ramble. Just get on your fucking blog that no one will see probably anyway and ramble. Maybe it will be freeing, medicinal, or even if it is just shit...so what.

I went to yoga class this morning. I didn't talk to anyone. I have no friends locally, and I lack the energy to try any more than just physically showing up in a room with other human beings, and I have to force myself to do that.

There was a youngish woman in the class who made various vocal tones and sighs, sometimes I thought she was crying. She did not follow the instructor. She was dressed in clashing colors and prints. I thought, wow, she is weird, maybe she has serious issues, maybe she is a bit unhinged. I thought, she could be my friend. I wanted to hug her so badly, but I didn't.

During yoga class the instructor at one point gave us permission to let out whatever sound was arising naturally, whatever felt right in the moment. I wanted to scream and howl and curse. I let out the softest sigh. No one heard my sound but me.

I am going out in the woods now. It is my daily resuscitation. My church. My home.

Outside is saving my life on the daily. Nature has always stayed. She doesn't bullshit, she doesn't back stab, she takes me as I am with no judgment. She has not once abandoned me, she always stays.

People leave. People have left me and I have left people. I feel bad about being part of that. I am only human. Sad excuse though.

Outside.

On my walk I saw a group of four deer. They paused, looked at me, and bounded off in the most graceful way. I also saw so many leaves dying a beautiful death. Grace.

There is so much beauty and so much grace, in this world, in you, in me, all around.

Gee, I like rambling. Maybe it is my new thing. Maybe it is a way to get honest. To get real.

Tea at Wartime

sitting here silent
sipping tea, birds are singing
while war rages on


my unearned safety
if i possessed the power
would blanket the world


by breath and heartbeat
i commit to remain here
arms held out in love

born to be healers

this is war

razor tongues
strike at every angle
mouths spit
poison darts
virulent
volcanic
scorched earth ruins
black winds 
fill throats
lungs
arteries

so thick
we can't see each other
or ourselves
nor the knives we are holding
to each others throats
ready to rip out voices
ready to rip out hearts
with words we deploy
sharp instruments
cut deep

we are brawlers
mud slingers
rabid and raging
feeding on anger
addicted to our
own venom
we swallow
we dispense
we kill
we are killed

you fight the ones
you call monsters
they are poised to do
the same
to you

we all fight the other

blood and guts
no glory

the coldest war
is the one where we
lose each other

the one that hardens our hearts
and steals peace from our very lips

words once spoken can never be retrieved

here are all the people
living with shrapnel
buried so deep

each heart
there bleeding at your doorstep

touch another wounded one
wash the cut
apply the poultice
put peace back on deserted lips

we all know how

we may be trained as warriors
and battles will be fought

the world may make us monsters

but we were born
to be healers

in the end
let us remember ourselves

Pic and a Poem; Visibility

   we float in uncertain space
   thinking what we see is real

   visibility is low

   impeded by elements
   clouds, wind, rain
   internal fog
   thick shape-shifter

   senses and stories
   built beliefs

   what deficient instruments
   to navigate complex worlds

   sitting on a boat long enough
   we may believe we are on solid land
   long ago having forgotten the water
   that buoys us up
   instead of swallowing us whole
  

Pic and a Poem, Desire

sometimes i dream
i am trapped
in a small space
with no doors or windows

an opening is revealed

across a threshold

wade through water
out to the forest

deep in the night
i visit creatures
with fangs and claws

piercing eyes
that are galaxies

sometimes
i am a creature
clawing my way
towards my own skin

once i dreamt
i devoured
something magical

dark and holy

mostly i
open doors
and leap into the mouth
of hunger

oh what a blessing
this life
of desire

Pic and a Poem, In Plain Sight

   we are housed in a life
   a body
   a mind
   some say a spirit
   we are many
   but singular
   together but alone

   conditioned to be

   from the perch
   of our particular circumstance
   we look out at the world
   through a dirty window
   thinking we see clearly
   that we understand the nature
   of things

   beliefs are chiseled and carved
   what we think the world is
   solid as stone
   locking us into
   limitation
   and loneliness

   the misperception of
   separation is the darkest force
   from it rise
   fear
   anger
   despair
   greed
   violence
   war

   but if we would step out
   soften
   and look back from the true vast universe
   we would have eyes so wide
   vision so expansive
   to witness at last our soul nature

   that all our brothers
   and all our sisters
   are nothing less than infinite, limitless
   perfection
   and the great force of conscious
   universal love is not outside our world

   for finally

   looking back upon ourselves
   we will find the divine right there
   hidden in plain sight
   among us
   within us

   bringing us together again
  

Brokenness and a Waterfall

Donald Trump has been elected President.

Chaos has erupted. Anger, hate, and fear have risen, from both sides, and every direction. People are divided; a country, communities, families, friendships...none safe from the chopping block. Millions of fingers pointing, blaming, shaming. Millions of hearts breaking.

My heart is broken. If you could shake it you would hear the pieces rattling in there, but you can't see what exactly has come apart inside. You can't fix it. People are angry. Some of them are angry with me. I wonder if I have lost them. The pain is deep, throbbing...sadness, grief, despair, rage, guilt, shame. Loss.

I am fractured.

My son broke his femur when he was two years old. He tried to kick a ball, but instead fell over the top and twisted his tiny leg. I wasn't looking. He screamed, a wailing siren scream, the kind that sends a mother running at super human speed. His father and I scooped him up, and rushed away to get help. We couldn't see what was broken, but we heard his cry of agony. We knew what to do. We knew where to go.

It seems that none of us know where to go or what to do now. We can hear the screams. But they are coming from everywhere. Some of them are coming from me. I feel the rattling of my heart. I reach out,wanting to save others, but I also cry out to be saved myself. I want to move, to run at that superhuman speed, but I feel stuck. I feel bound. I feel powerless.

The supermoon arrived just days after the election. A full moon that would be so close, so large, so bright. Powerful. Full moon has a spiritual significance of manifestation, creation, and completion, and is associated with the divine feminine and water. So, on the day of the supermoon I wanted to be out in nature and near that healing water. I hoped to find some clarity alone in the wilds, to pray for healing, for myself, and all my hurting brothers and sisters. I hiked a treacherous and slippery path down through the thick forest to a waterfall. I almost fell several times. I considered broken bones; femur, tibia, radius, ribs. I would be out there alone, no one would hear my screams.

At the hospital, they had to cut off his pants. His leg was so swollen.

They said the x ray had revealed a spiral fracture of the femur. They had to transfer him to the children's hospital. He would require special care that they couldn't provide there. At the children's hospital a nurse explained he would need to be in traction for a number of days, and then a cast. She said an orthopedic doctor would be in soon to explain the cast to us. I thought, a broken leg, sure, a cast from thigh to ankle, little crutches, nothing too extraordinary. No problem.

The doctor came in with a doll. The doll was encased in plaster from chest to ankle, both legs casted, spread wide, with a bar in between. A body cast. A two year old. I pleaded that there must be something else, something...he said no. This was the only option for healing. Complete immobilization from the chest down.

These days post election I have felt a great heaviness in my chest, it radiates out from there. It feels tight and drawing in on me. It's hard to breathe. I am usually a person of action, but in this I feel bound. I feel immobilized. There is no easy fix, not for me, our families, our communities, or our country. A little cast, a bandage, a bit of plaster won't do. The way to healing is going to be long and hard, and it's going to hurt, for quite awhile.

When I made it to the waterfall, I cried and heaved, I looked to the sky above and to the earth under my feet. As the water poured over the cliff, hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I reached down and scooped up cool water and mingled it with those tears. I prayed with all I had, in the ways I know how. I did moon salutation, from yoga, that honors the moon and the feminine. Praying with my body. I prayed with song, chanting. I uttered words of request, asking for help. Praying with my voice. I sat on a rock in stillness and opened to feeling, receiving, listening. Praying with my heart.
I listened to the natural world around me. Praying with my soul.

My son endured traction, painful, boring. He was medicated for the pain, only to have other pains from the medication. Weights pulled on his already broken leg. All I could do was sit at his side and do my best to comfort him, to bring him some measure of relief by holding his hand, kissing his face, reading him a book, watching his favorite shows with him.

He went in the cast for a week, an x ray check up then revealed improper healing...out of the cast, back in traction for two more weeks, back in the cast for two months. My poor guy, I call him bud, suffered in so many ways. When he came out of the cast, he couldn't walk.  His muscles had weakened too much, he would have to crawl first.

I asked the waterfall what to do. I looked to the water for some inspired answer. Her response was to simply continue pouring down, letting the water flow. The pool below receiving it, the stream it feeds flowing along. The wind blowing gently, the birds singing, insects flying. Out here nothing was wrong. Out in the wild there is just being. There is no resistance, all things simply doing what they do with no judgment, doubt, or hesitation.  The waterfall doesn't hold anything back, not a drop. She is wide open and letting go.

My son did crawl, and then he stood, he walked again. Healing did happen. It required patience, care, courage, support, willingness to go through the hard parts, and love.

I left the peaceful oasis of the waterfall after a long sit. I found a new challenge on the ascent. The muddy and steep mountain trail offered only jagged rock steps as footholds. There were stretches that I had to put my hands down on the rocks in front of me, dig into the dirty surface with my fingers, and crawl up. It took some effort, strength, will. I got there. And at the top I stepped onto the flat path and walked. I felt my heart more steady, less rattled, beating stronger.

I will think of the waterfall when the tightening comes, when I want to run away, or hold things in. I will try to make myself more like her, not holding back, wide open, letting go.

I know healing happens. It will happen now too, but the way ahead is clearly long and painful. The first thing is to fully acknowledge the injury, really look at it, inside and out and from every angle. We must look at all the ugliness, the blood and guts of it, with eyes wide open. We each must do our best to show up now, attend to ourselves, lend a hand to others, protect the people around us, especially those who are vulnerable and deeply afraid. The wounded world needs us. It needs us to be people brave of heart and bold of truth. It needs deeply grounded warriors, medicine people.

Healing will happen. It may take a very long time, we will have to crawl before we walk. It will be trying, it will challenge us on every level, but we must not lose hope, or harden into hate and resentment. In our fight against dark forces, we must not forget the light. This healing will require courage, fire, will, relentless and vigilant action, but also patience, steadfastness, support, compassion, and love. This great challenge is before us, and we will meet it, but may we keep our intentions centered in our hearts. Open, in flow, powerful, goodness will prevail.