“Men go abroad to wonder at the height of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long course of rivers, at the vast compasses of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering.”
Underneath, above and to the east and west of this is peace. For many years Thich Naht Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, has been one of my personal spiritual teachers. The simplicity of his walking and standing meditation takes one away from the idea of sitting at length in lotus position or carving out special time that never quite happens to ‘do’, as this seems to be the obstacle for many. I invite you, next time that you walk, even if from the parking lot to the post office, or as you stand in line to pick up supplies, with each inhale say “I breathe in”, and with every exhale,”I am at peace”.
Hope is grounded in reality. It is alive and well in every one of us even though old wounds and disappointments and low self esteem can bury it. These are phantoms that we turn ourselves over to but are no longer real. One must look each one in the eye, say ‘farewell’, and reclaim one’s birthright. And what birthright is that? Desire?
From this moment onward, clouds, every single time I spy you up there, whatever shape or size or hues you are experimenting with, I will now remember to pass beneath you quite simply, with appreciation, and trust that one day, when the earth has had its final ways with me, I will rise up and luxuriate in your perspective of being above.
A momentary ‘time out’ from distress calls coming through my phone from Inauguration Day to yesterday, but now WHAM. From my toadstool, the momentum around the changing of the guards, to supreme relief, to exhaustion, to a looking reality (to the best of one’s ability) in the eye, resulting in a profound weariness and depression. This coincides with a personal exploration of some of my father’s notes on ceremonies that he conducted as a minister.
I investigated online for a house to rent and found one, neighborhood unknown, but it sounded perfect. I have a history of finding beautiful spots to live in and didn’t need to question, though husband did, he usually did, and after googling decided that I had done well. In the Native American tradition, the woman sits in the front of the canoe, pointing the way, while the husband paddles. We were off!
Oh joy! Indra, goddess of rain, threw open the floodgates in heaven and torrential downpours ensued! Finally! And of course, as worlds constantly collide, my childhood in India, and the urge to strip off the clothes and dance with passionate abandon whenever monsoon cloudbursts arrived after months of hot winds and blistering heat, and the present of my grand-daughter, Indra’s, first birthday on this very day of drenching droplets. How wondrous is life?
You have been and will be forever a part of me. You personify ‘Leap! Even if you can’t see what lies down below!’ which, with reservations here and there, has been central to my life on earth. You lifted the veil off all that held me back through seeing me and loving me. What more is there than that between human beings? I love you.
Teddy and Tally were allowed to run free in the backyard but the front ‘out there’ was what intrigued them both, passionately, relentlessly. We humans needed to be on guard for any possible slip up in perhaps not closing the door tightly, or making sure they were back back when we came and went. It was habit for the household. We all knew and obeyed.
Feed your frantic heart with softness. Our world is in transition. Upheaval is an element of transition. Delight can buried under a mountain of upheaval, or even under a small hill. We must each find the place, in our own environment, in ourselves, where delight is alive and well and thriving.
When I look out at the ocean, this ocean, my brain cells seem to say ‘time to play!’
Significant bodies of water prior to this sparkling beauty, that this body, these eyes, have beheld and lived chapters with.
My father had not thought of including me but I insisted on going with him. Riding in our black Plymouth station wagon, through the city, watching and thinking, and then entering the church, shifted my knowing of life in America into an entirely different gear. We have moved from underground bubbling currents into explosive in your face information.
There is a vital effort to get tent dwellers off the street and ideally creating solid homes is the the answer. As a pre-home solution, an intermediate step, and one that can then move into being in addition to having a home, there needs to be a program for supplying those without homes with cars.
I am grateful, I am proud, I am in awe, at what the body is capable of, and when I open my eyes in the morning and grasp the knowing that I am not only pain free but I am also as limber as a monkey and as strong as a small tiger, I say “thank you”.
I see you sitting at your desk in the living room..facing out to the room…a sweet smelling pipe in your mouth and a bowl of licorice in a cut glass bowl on the desk in front of you, always dressed in a three piece suit with a gold watch chain looping from your vest pocket into another little pocket where the watch surely lived.
In the early 90’s, living in New York City, I attended NYU for my masters degree. One day, while settling down with a hot pretzel for lunch, outside my classroom, a psychic sat down next to me and began to speak.
I believe you have massive scars on your back.”
Every single one of us is born with an amalgamation of gifts that is absolutely our own, as in there is no one else on earth that shares this unique arrangement. This is our raison d’etre! To unearth what these gifts are and use them. Some may be obvious and others are not, but one’s mission and joy is to hunt for them, find them and live them.
Giant brains in little bodies and massive fears running around my classroom. My answer was music. We gathered in a circle on the floor, with my guitar on my lap and I would sing. Soon we had ducks flapping wings and frogs jumping off of lily pads, and tales of long ago being listened to while closing sleepy eyes. Magic happened. Miracles. My guitar and I, not stellar musically, but together a team.
My evening excursions often lead me along the edge of a narrow, steep canyon. Every single time that I stop and gaze out over it, a memory relives itself in my mind with crystal clarity, flooding my senses with smells and cellular sadness, even though my mind has made peace what ‘what happened, my being … Read more
Standing on my rock,
on the top of my bluff,
feet planted,
arms to the sky.
The wind whips my hair into a tangled mass around me,
challenging my hold.
She reached up and a huge seagull came to her and sat on her hand. “You need to remember the distress with all of your might, and you need to let it go with every breath.”
We have a choice at every moment, in how we rise in the morning and face the day, in how we greet each other or strangers on the street, in how we treat our bodies and our minds, in how we look at others’ woundings with compassion or disdain, in how we focus on making money rather than addressing the core of our security needs.
My evening excursions often lead me along the edge of a narrow, steep canyon. Every single time that I stop and gaze out over it, a memory relives itself in my mind with crystal clarity, flooding my senses with smells and cellular sadness, even though my mind has made peace what ‘what happened, my being goes there and brings to light one more wisp of seeing.
The human condition in despair and confusion and fear, needing to communicate.
For years I have held this position of listening. What I have gleaned is that often our deepest, most articulate, honest sharing is in the lap of a faceless person. A person who has no role our life and we have no role in theirs, a person who is not going to advise, a person who does not judge, a person who is neutral, a person who is a kind stranger, a person who holds still and listens.
Rhythms, balance, ebb and flow, new rhythms, new balance, ever changing, ever present. All one needs to do is ride the wave in and paddle out, ride the wave in and paddle out but we humans get busy, forget this simplicity and we forge against. We lose our connectedness, our joy, our true north, our raison d’etre.
Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning. This being so, what does a pink blush that spreads itself across the sky like honey on a banana leaf mean?
A day of Love. A day of Play. Yes.
Someone needed to do this in order to shine a light, as a conduit between the haves and have nots, on what ‘being homeless’ in all of its obvious and subtle ways, was about. These two worlds needed to be brought together. But now I was exhausted…
The wind howled all night, whipping trees and tossing flower petals outside my window. Forever in my life I have adored the wind. As a child in a boarding school in the hills of South India, lying awake in my bed at night, the fierce wind was my passionate friend. All of the sounds of this land … Read more
The message of the year hidden in connection to nature, connection to stillness, connection to each other in new ways, connection to lives out there beyond our knowing, connection to self, connection to goodness, connection to God.
Three years and eleven months ago, my loving and supportive friend and landlord was forced to hang an eviction notice on the door of the little blue house by the sea, that my husband and golden retriever and I had inhabited for five years. In that moment, that one act, shifted the reality of our plummeting dreams and finances, into a reality that we, over these years, have had to be with, sleep with…