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In that infinite space,
The space of one flutter of a hummingbird wing;
In that infinite space
That defines the difference between one drop of water and another as they join to form a waterfall;
In that infinite space
Of time from the fire in my brain
To the pronouncement from my lips,
I find no hesitation
To speak the Truth
And say
“I love You”.
Written in response to the prompt “hesitation” from the poetry blog “One Single Impression”, thanks to Nathalie for this week’s prompt.
Technorati Tags: space, fire, love, truth
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March 4, 2010 A dear friend’s husband died today. I was so honored that she called to tell me herself, since I’ve moved away and was not close to comfort her. In the midst of her grief and sadness she reached out and allowed me to be a part of this holy process upon which she unwillingly embarks. We are such unlikely friends, yet steadfast in our respect and love for one another. It’s been 25 years now that this seed has been growing and flowering. She, a buttoned up Southern, conservative Catholic turned Baptist and I, the liberal Yankee. We joined forces many years ago because we knew that in the other we had found wisdom, integrity and goodwill. Along the way we happened to shatter a couple of glass ceilings in our small town. And, when each of our worlds were crashing around us the other took up the sword and made a safe path for our friend to walk. And I do mean crashing. Crashing like “you’re fired” and “you’re bankrupt”, things that rock you to your absolute foundation. We’re not “go to the movies on Saturday night friends”, but “there when you need them” kind of friends. The kind of friend who prayed in a circle of women over your mother as she fought her cancer to the death. The kind of friend who doesn’t let you take yourself too seriously but would fight with her last breath to uphold your good name. In a nutshell, the kind of friend you rarely find anymore. You know, the kind of friend you can go without talking to for a year but pick up the phone knowing the hello and welcome will always be the same. The one you allow to cloister herself away from the outside world with her husband after she retired because you both know she’ll never have enough time with him given their 20 year age difference. There will be plenty of time after he’s gone for her to rejoin the hustle and bustle we call life. It’s just never been that social, chatty kind of friendship. It’s been that solid, grace-filled kind of friendship you hold at your core, you don’t take it out and look at it very often but when you do, it shines like a new penny. And so, today, the day came when her husband, tired of fighting the good fight, slipped suddenly away. Luckily she was there to proclaim her love for him as he took his dying breath. My love and prayers are with her as she lays her head on her pillow without him next to her for the first time in 35 years. I hold her in my heart and I pray his soft caress from heaven comforts her tonight. 
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Rumi said “break the legs of what I want to happen” And so it is that I find my path to the Source Made more fortunate, Actually enlivened By the losses, And inspired By the despair. Because as a desert traveler, my first glance of the oasis and My parched throat make me crawl in a much straighter line Than she whose lips are wet. This post written in response to Abbey of the Arts Invitation to Poetry: Entering the Desert’s Fire, thank you to Christine for the invitation.
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The battered boat’s
Tenuous tether
Snapped!
Like a kite line
Caught unaware in a gust.
Suddenly free
Directionless
Trembling at the precipice of each wave
Daunted by the depths below her bow;
An inky blackness of uncertainty all around.
But free,
Holding hopes of future sunlight,
Of calming seas,
And of eyes
To see the beauty of her weathered frame;
Of loving hands
To sand away the roughness
That she might shine again.
Offering for this week’s One Single Impression prompt. Thanks to Tammie Lee of Spirit Helpers for this week's lovely prompt, wanderlust.
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I wanted to say more about expectations. I am currently fascinated by them because my mind has been planning, creating, and dissecting the future for decades! But, I believe expectations interplay significantly with the duality of this life.
If we can truly let go of labeling things “good” “bad” “right” “wrong” then can’t we also let go of what we think the next moment should bring to us? And if we have no expectations of the future can we not let it unfold as a mystery, waiting to find the golden nugget in it all, therefore negating the need for labels? We all know that in even in the most difficult of times, something necessary shows itself to us, if we listen closely.
If our hearts are truly open and present, aren’t we lying so deeply enthralled by this moment that all we do is welcome what comes next? We know it will be exactly what we need.
And when living from this place, one of the greatest gifts is that we take away expectations, particularly of others, so that every moment we are participating with those around us, loving and living, of service or in need, whether simple or complex, we give and receive freely without any thought of what might come or be asked in return. It is here that I find true freedom, true peace, true LOVE.
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Irregular irregularity,
My heart fails to find
Its usually unbroken rhythm.
Even that most 'natural' of expectations
Cannot be known an instant into the future.
Perhaps two hearts beat...
Sometimes synchronous
Sometimes sparring;
One sings
One sighs
Teaching me everyday
To let go of expectations
Filling me with enough love to hold
A million hearts...
There is always room for more.
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Coin leaves strewn across the path
Snowball berry orbs on stick arms
Water fronds oscillating like a mermaid's hair
Titanic stance on lodgepole bridge
An eternity of whitewater bounding by
All balancing
My rebirth into nothingness.
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Expectant
Flesh on bone
Undying heart
Essential cells
Refusing bitterly.
Eight years
Of vital water
Searching for the sea
Since the ghoul occupied your bed
And my mother departed.
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I lost a friend to cancer at an early age. Though my parents had a profound impact on me and who I am today, this event, meeting her, knowing her and losing her in a matter of a year clearly was the single most important event of my life and changed me in ways both innumerable and indefinable.
My child’s heart
Your love-light
My innocence
Your child’s face with
A shaman’s soul.
Yes, just one moment
Two alone, but one;
Your tenderness was softly snaring;
An organic etching to hold my beating heart
And a lifetime of loss
Or a sweet lace holding me together
To be all that I am?
This post is for One Single Impression’s prompt for the week: shift in time.
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I am
A solitary stand of dune grass;
The over-achiever carving a sundial in the white sand;
These wordless winds have blown before
Rattling the pines as we laughed out loud
Carrying cursed fumes from the ovens so known
Straining a sail toward the New World soon discovered
Tickling the torn hem of His simple robe.
I feel
The heavy burden of the wind;
The curt caress upon my cheek
A message from the lost past
To the unreachable future
Be still
Be one
Be.
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Love’s muted shades
Were gently aged
When at first sight
They flashed and flared.
Bold, brilliance bursting forth
Led two hearts
To find one love.
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Click here for a lovely photo of loneliness
Loneliness in a crowd…Wikipedia reports that “the existentialist school of thought views loneliness as the essence of being human. Each human being comes into the world alone, travels through life as a separate person, and ultimately dies alone. Coping with this, accepting it, and learning how to direct our own lives with some degree of grace and satisfaction is the human condition”.
I’ve never so keenly felt being alone as I did when I was being wheeled into an operating room but does it really define the path of our lives? I submit it does not.
There lies between us, a largely unrecognized connection, not just the intellectual decision to ‘feel’ connected but when we are quiet and present and open, a true molecular connection between living beings that is best expressed, in a word, as love. Yes, love, that overused, trite declaration of a thousand definitions yet it seems we have nothing else with which to describe this experience of connection.
We could call it ‘essence’ since it appears to be the magic dust that leads us to our truest and highest potential. But love, maybe with a big L may be more satisfactory. No matter how we label something that is truly indescribable, why is it that the ego seems to swell in our minds before we truly have a chance to experience this big Love? And once the ego has flexed its mighty muscle, even big Love gets pushed out of the way. No matter that you’ve experienced the all encompassing feeling of being Lovingly connected to every living thing if only for a second, the ego comes along to wipe the memory clean. So clean that in that moment you have no awareness you ever found nirvana.
So this is my quest, in this fast-paced, impersonal, multi-tasking world of ours, how do we stay quiet and present and open to big Love? It is always there, it is cellular, it exists but our minds dance the eternal, maddening “riverdance” to keep it hidden. Thus it is that we find ourselves alone in a crowd by choosing the isolation of the mind over the true Love in our open hearts.
We will just have to keep exercising our Love muscle until it can hold its own against the ego.
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“UBUNTU is very difficult to render into a Western language. It speaks of the very essence of being human…you share what you have. It is to say, ‘My humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up, in yours’. We belong in a bundle of life. We say, ‘A person is a person through other persons’. It is not, ‘I think therefore I am’. It says rather, ‘I am human because I belong. I participate, I share’. A person with ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed, or treated as if they were less than who they are.”
Desmond Tutu, No Future without Forgiveness
The video Beth has linked to VTH of “Stand By Me” is so inspiring, so uplifting, it reminded me of this quote from Desmond Tutu which amazed me when I first read it. We are so indoctrinated in the U.S. to believe that we have the best of all worlds. People may choose to live elsewhere but they must be giving something up to do so. Yet, here we have a word from another culture, another language for which there is no equivalent in English (or any ‘Western language’). At first, I felt sad to think that my world view was missing out on something so essential, so cellular, that speaks such truth and creates such connectedness. Then I rejoiced that we live in a time when the great prophets and poets of our nation and other nations are so available to us through the massive exportation of the written word and through the Web and thoughtful sites like VTH.
Reflecting on Beth’s poem “this may be a crime scene”, I see the chalk outlines not just on the “floor of truth” but hovering, shimmering in the aura surrounding the person she is today. They live in all of us. Do I have regrets, sure, I have wounded and been wounded but I would not be who I am today if I had not experienced that woundedness. How comforting it is to think, not in terms of suffering and wounding but in terms of participating in being truly human and recognizing that when we participate with our whole hearts, there may be missteps, it may not come to fruition as we intended but it is our true essence. We are human and to be human is to be imperfect and through our imperfection we grow and learn and stretch and strengthen our human muscle. We need not suffer for tripping on our humanity; we can celebrate our strength and willingness to try to be “open and available to others”.
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