Wednesday, October 4, 2017

These are the times, and there is ♪ ♫

With so much pain in the world, now and ad infinitum (or maybe it's perpetuum, my Latin is shoddy) I try to remember to see clearly --

Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies
are not starving someplace, they are starving
somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils.
But we enjoy our lives because that's what God wants.
Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would not
be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not
be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women
at the fountain are laughing together between
the suffering they have known and the awfulness
in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody
in the village is very sick. There is laughter
every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta,
and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay.
If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction,
we lessen the importance of their deprivation.
We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world. To make injustice the only
measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.
If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,
we should give thanks that the end had magnitude.
We must admit there will be music despite everything.
We stand at the prow again of a small ship
anchored late at night in the tiny port
looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront
is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning.
To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat
comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth
all the years of sorrow that are to come. 

Monday, October 2, 2017

september

The lusty lonely mind lightning

Strikes me at my seams -

Apathy sits like a cankerous bird weeping in the window

Give in, give up

There are holes in your socks

The blinds are drawn to the unbearable heat and things, as they do, fall apart

As the air in the dim room circulates,

pay attention...

remember to want

Desire is no luxury, my dear

Touch your skin and find it

Stare at things again

Are you breathing just a little?

Are you fondling the reset?

You with the weak throat and weaker theories

You whose hunger has gone -

Reset and unravel.


9/2/17

Today is a day of madness, mad yearning, 
passion
discomfort
The human body in motion is art beyond art.
We're already there.
I long to escape, to connect, to know another's heart
but how well do I know my own?
Certain truths can only be born of struggle,
as we are birthed in pain.
We are bigger than our own deficiencies.
We are longer than our longing.
We may just be fragments of a whole...
but what is the whole?
I am uncomfortable:
which means I have different eyes today.
I collapse into uncontrolled wonder
into knowing the unknown
and really knowing nothing in the end - 
nothing may be enough.

it's messier than rulebooks would like
it's messier -this day- than you prepared for
in anxious flareups, fear sinks and settles -
pay attention
fill your mouth with this air
you've been here before

what to need what to want what to ask?
the lonely night of the soul will whisper -
"how are you built?
what keeps you together?"

you are not your opinions and
you are not your feelings and 
you are not your experiences - 
so what ARE you?
detach from thought
detach from word
feed the truth - 
what makes you weak, and what makes you strong?

Thursday, December 31, 2015

Lean in

The only thing that you can take with you is what you have given away.  In that light, to find real love, or even to understand it again, you have to stop setting limits on what you're capable of doing/being/feeling/giving, across the board, and just DO it.  Stop making excuses, stop sabotaging, stop waiting; dance on the precipice of your knowing and WANT the strife that leads to a better you.  Yes, want the strife. Look for it. This means that you have to want the next 3 shitty jobs to get you to that 4th great one.  And in the meantime, be great at those jobs.  Be the best one there, because through the bullshit you become YOU, a more competent, sharper self.  And you have to date some duds and be willing to be a dud yourself, to screw up and fail and not know your own barriers of affection and challenge, so to find a close fit to the shape of your own heart.  Be bold and you will gain new eyes.  Courage, my dear, for no matter where you find yourself, courage to be the real you will set you in motion. Feel and be honest.  Inertia, my dear, for it is movement on small movement that leads you living toward the heart of God.  Acknowledge this day, my friends, and lean into your ignorance. Jump into the wind.  This is where we will grow as men and women.  We all have too much to learn and be to do otherwise.


Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Permission Slip


“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” - Twain

What are you doing?!  My answer? LIVING. It ain't easy, but sometimes (cliche as it is) it just is.  Life requires acknowledgement of itself.  You want to be in Oz? You build a rainbow that works. Roll up your sleeves, wake up early, and take your colors out of the box. Bond 'em together, fashion them piece by piece. Build until you've curved over what's stopping you.  Move on in spite of limits.   Give yourself the chance to make it work for you.  Take this as permission, Dorothy. What you have in front of you is alarmingly fantastic. Despite the outcries for pessimism masked in "reality," you are luckier, more blessed, with more opportunity than an unimaginable amount of folk in this world, and in fact all of time. Let yourself come loose.  Don't focus on your lacks.  You're more than your degree. You're more than money owed or where you're from or "what you do."  You're more than your aims, my friend, just as you are more than your deficiencies.  You're bigger than "you." You bear witness, through all your experience - good, bad, fruitful, wasted. You bear witness to the beauty of it all, to the sad, confused muddle of a world that surrounds us all.  You're bigger than "you" because you're as big as Life.  And Life wants to be seen and heard and danced with.

So. Taste the experience. Love the breath. Taste it and let go. Listen to your gut. Worry not. Live with most of your stars out. Heed Mister Twain. And this:


"Never refuse an invitation, never resist the unfamiliar, never fail to be polite and never outstay the welcome. Just keep your mind open and suck in the experience. And if it hurts, you know what? It's probably worth it." - The Beach

Lean into it dear. Whether you see it or not, you are where you need to be.  
Tread softly. Move steadily. GO.



Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Follow Beauty

"To follow Beauty,
even when she shall lead you to the verge of the precipice; 
and though she is winged and you are wingless, 
and though she shall pass beyond the verge, 
follow her 
for where Beauty is not, 
 there is nothing." 
- Gibran


Tuesday, August 7, 2012

"The Summer Day" by Mary Oliver


Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Friday, July 13, 2012

Ah, Love: Revisited

Back to it then...


Vraiment.  Letting someone in can mess you the hell up.  They ask for it, they don't ask for it -  eventually if you stick around you become affected; eventually you're seized.
Your ribs part.
Your heart breathes in a light freshness.
You risk the sword...

It's that risk particularly that perplexes me.  I try not to anticipate the sword, but I understand it; I'm willing to risk, even when it's coming.  Isn't this the beauty of it all?  Is it not how we approach it in maturity and tenderness that matters most?  Were I to say, "you will be in love many times in this life, but most of them (perhaps all) will not last" would you throw off the burden of living beyond yourself, of giving it your all and say "no thanks, dude. Screw love."

Neil doesn't say "screw love," and that's why I'm revisiting this.  He "hates love."  He hates what it does to you.  I didn't give him the credit first go-around because I wanted to (and still do) see love in ideal terms.  I didn't want to hate it.  But love is nasty. Messy.  You get tangled and everything goes to shit. I still don't hate love, but a recent breakup got me approaching a truer understanding of its raw power.

Love strikes. We collide with someone. We grow beyond immediate connection.  We bloom in the fires of another heart.  And then it ends.  Whether it's first spoken in the chest or on the lips, love's spell breaks, and you know when you've reached the line.  Some ignore it and keep pushing.  Some may force the hand and bail early.  I've done both, but I try to live somewhere in the middle.

I've always been of the school that says its best to approach love with an open heart throughout, which is I guess why I quote The Prophet so readily.  But an open heart is a hard effing thing to have all the time, Kahlil. You get engulfed, and openness hurts like whoa when it backfires. You retreat. You blame. You build quickly against another onslaught. 

I, for one, long to love with wild abandon, knowing full well the facts: that people are broken; that we don't often know what we want or who we are, and that will leave us burned; that we are trying, but we're gonna fail others, fail ourselves; that love is fighting for room, and we can grow and learn when we give it and us room to breathe .... I am not there yet, neither fully "me" nor fully capable.  I am, with each broken effort, moving closer though.  I am fighting for "that brave and happy life."

Am I kidding myself?  Is it wiser to simply hold off?   To hunker down and ignore the beauty whirling around us?  To play it safe and tap in only when the cards are stacked on our side? Or, am I approaching it the way we all should?

We all got insecurities.  We all have pieces of ourselves we loathe -  heavy pieces that make us fear the twilight, that keep us in bed in the morning, that run from open spaces.   If we can do anything, we can approach those pieces. Learn their quirks.  Love them, as we begin to love ourselves.  For that's where it all starts.

Fight my friends, for your place in this world, for your loves.  Let go when the time comes, but never fear the sword.



"Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence." - David Byrne



Corridors of Spirit


                                                              — Rumer Godden

Monday, May 7, 2012

Connected

"If you complete the journey to your own heart, 
you will find yourself in the heart of  
 everyone else."


Friday, May 4, 2012

Magnus


If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,
we should give thanks that the end had magnitude. 

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Beyond Choice

Upon thinking about my state in life, I've come to conclude that the best thing to do is to settle the stirring, to find a steady current and construct a routine, build from there, rebelling when I must against said structure in order to stay sane.  If this is how I best operate, then why not be subject to it?

Here's the kicker - I don't want that life; at least not yet.  I don't want to feel like I'm feigning control of my day, because that's all people seem to clothe themselves in, this idea that they have a handle on anything.  I pride myself on my  willingness to think the opposite, on my leanings toward experiential living, on riding and being the wind, on walking to the maniacal drumbeat of my spirit in spite of mandate or convention.  I've found that while yes structure often makes me more productive, mad growth only happens on the move.

Soo...if I've come to understand anything it's this: I have to bridge the two ways.  Build a frame when I must, but keep the catapult ever-taut and loaded.  The paradox of security does not need to keep me captive, and while it is folly to reject steady growth, it's also blindness to think that's all there is.  A boat needs both sail and rudder, and while you cannot always trust your hand, you also cannot wait forever for the winds to change.  Faith and action my friends - just don't sacrifice the life you wish to live while you're too busy either frantically building or patientily waiting. Know the relation between the two, and weed through the in-between.  Treacherous balance, I know.

The only way to gather focus, discipline, or cohesion, to grow in relation to the spirit, is to own the choices you make, to lean in, to want the change that is happening, and when the door opens: to fight for a life that feeds itself, crowbar in tow.  Whatever works best for you, ride it, but always beyond itself, for the method of the moment is never the point, only a tool is.  Is your toolbox stocked?

In living a transient lifestyle that basically forces me to be reactive to my situation (adaptability is something I'm rather exceptional at, but also a source of compounding friction in my life) I must learn to harness my direction, must either seize or yield to the movement, and learn through momentary awareness.  If it's truly about the order of exploration, then I must listen to the track in play, and sing loud as I seek the soul of the moment, whether aloft or stuck.  I won't tread confidently elsewhere until I do.

And here's what this leaves me with:
I NEED TO BE MORE AWARE OF WHAT MY CHOICES MEAN.
The choice to not drink tonight or to run 3 miles tomorrow at 5am is not the end of the matter; it isn't the point.  What lies behind the act?  Steps reverberate beyond themselves, and we must move with purpose, even as we wander or drift, for the meaning is everywhere.  I must live beyond the choice, beyond the action, into what it means to the full scope in my consciousness, while not un-tethering from the very real now.  Again, treacherous balance. Awareness, in many forms, must be befriended.  I will not live my life any one way, but rather bend and flow in the current, always poised to allow people and places to affect my path.

What is the sea telling me?

What about my vessel has led me exactly here?

............


“Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul, if either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.” - Gibran

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

The Dust Settles

"Settle" is a loaded term, associated somehow with defeat.  In fact, a good number of people today will cringe when they even hear the word.  But what's the heart of this idea?  Why the repulsion? Are we ravenous for control? Revolted by the thought of throwing in the towel?  Smitten with the notions of what we want life to be like and allergic to anything in opposition to that vison?  What is it to settle?

Good ole' Ed Poe wrote a story that touches on settling, about a sailor and a sinking ship.  Not in a way that you might immediately associate with the term, but in a way that advocates leaning in to what we may be avoiding.  Perhaps the answer is tucked away beneath the placid waters of our day.

In Descent into the Maelstrom, Poe's sailor learns an 'insane lesson in chaos management.'  As he spins wildly toward his doom, flailing in the midst of one of the most monstrous whirlpools you can fathom, our sailor lands on a wonderful thought: He cannot fight the chaos, nor can he conquer it.

And then something happens. Once the sailor "settles," once he gives in and steps back and peers on the mad beauty of it all, he finds a sort of union with the chaos.  He gains new eyes, noticing that certain objects aren't exactly sinking.  He begins to hone in on the poetic, yet orderly, destruction around him.  Beauty becomes the only way out. That and latching himself to a sizable barrel.

The lesson, I gather, is that finding an order to things is not the same as control: in fact, the Maelstrom cannot be controlled and neither can the madness of our days. Escape is possible only through joining in the chaos on its own terms, leaning in and letting go.  That's when you start to see. 

We settle when we say, 'I choose this because I might as well,' or "nothing better is coming along, so hey..." but settling itself is never a true possibility, because change is inevitable and we're always swept away again amidst the chaos, no matter where we sit.  Sure, some people sit longer and own their lot, say "this is my life."  But are they really content with it, or are they, in fact, still unsettled?

Contentment comes more from a sense of peace with the reality of a situation, enjoying your place for what it is in space and time, but open enough to know that change is afoot, and ready at the helm when those winds do come.  I'd rather be at peace with my lot than put stock in the notion that I've "settled."  You can choose your words as you wish.

A point: You should never knock contentment or happiness that sneaks up on you; you may just have found a good thing, so lean into it.  It's a surprise, I'm sure, to find a dash of joy in an arena you've been avoiding, or one you never saw in the cards, but it would be folly to push it away once you've bloomed to it.  You need to continue to strive and grow, and your path will certainly be dictated by where you "settle" and what you can learn there.  You should also understand that your original desires will evolve and guide you out of your current state.

Change is the only constant, and you will be guided forward, willingly or holding onto the floor. Your choice.  Be that down the street or otherwheres, have faith in the unfolding of your story.

I went hiking a few weeks back and felt a good shift happen.  Flooded in a series of epiphanies, I think I re-found myself, oddly at peace with the woods.  As the old hymnal goes:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Keep holding true, my friends.  If nothing else, be content that you are part of life, and find joy - wherever you are - in bearing witness to it.


Monday, April 23, 2012

Ah, Love: Part 5


"Amelie has a strange feeling of absolute harmony. It's a perfect moment. A soft light, a scent in the air, the quiet murmur of the city. A surge of love, an urge to help mankind overcomes her."


S'pose I'll leave it at that.


Ah, Love: Part 4

Guiding points --