“Nature is alive and talking to us. This is not a metaphor.” –Terence McKenna
“And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.”
— Raymond Carver
“Her imagination was by habit ridiculously active; when the door was not open, it jumped out the window.” –Henry James
”I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear:
I’m not screwing around. It’s time. All of this pretending and performing – these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt – has to go.
Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever.
Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.”
by Maya Stein
Just east of certainty. A little south of courage. A hair’s
width from ease. Clicks away from ready. A turn
or two from acceptance. A shuffle from faith. A set of stairs
from achievement. A riverbed from happiness. A handspan from
peace. A wink away from freedom. A few lines until the poem’s
done. A highway, a night’s sleep, a phone call, a touch, a rotation
of gears away from that certain yes that tells you where you are is
exactly where you need to be. I know, the signs can look as if they’re missing,
and the map so distant and unclear.
But I’m telling you, you aren’t lost. You’re never lost. You’re always here.
1. Baltimore. What a wonderful city, and it’s only a little more than an hour away. We took the boys to the Walters Museum, and then went to the Visionary Arts Museum.
2. Visionary artists: untaught, unhampered by the “rules,” they make art because something in their soul says they must. The work was vibrant, alive, moving.
3. The human will to make and create.
4. Fireflies. Are there more of them this year?
5. Morning silence and solitude
May we walk in Beauty!
The Lover Speaks
How, when I am hidden within your own deep self,
do you find your way onto your own separate path?
How can the we of us be so individual,
so unaware of the other that exists within us?
This is what I mean by the forest.
This is what I mean by the child who is lost in the woods.
Don’t you see that you are the forest of me?
That when you wander off the path,
you are in danger only of finding your truest self?
Which is me, which is us, Beloved.
TOMORROW’S PROMPT: The Fool rides the Chariot. Today, she learned about the power of polarities, the balance of opposites, and the deep power of being Beloved. Tomorrow, she must use the forces she has learned–the Elements the Magician has taught her, the Mysteries of the High Priestess, the Nurturing Life Force of the Empress, the Will of the Emperor, and the Problem-Solving and Connection-Making of the Teacher–to harness her Chariot and move it forward. Practice! Work! Will! Forward movement! Focus on the task at hand. Her steeds are spirits of storm. Or they are sphinxes. Or they are the energies of sun and moon. Or even the disparate elements of her own being. Whatever they are, she must learn to harness and direct them.
1. Driving into spring. The redbuds are blooming in Baltimore.
2. The Walters Museum. Antiquities. The Sekhmet statues, Isis, Mary, a teeny tiny Rembrandt, Wunderkammers, the meticulously-hand-copied Qurans, a Persian jug from the time of Rumi.
3. That wrong exit we took off the highway could have meant an hour of headache to find our way back, but it turned out to be a better exit than the one we had planned.
4. Nepalese lunch. Spicy, spicy, flavorful, and masala chai.
5. Architecture. Truly there are angels in the architecture.
May we walk in Beauty!
Just a few more days! I love the challenge of these months, and I am so glad to get the break when they are done. Today’s prompt is to write a matter/anti-matter poem. I just let this one run its little free-association course.
Aunty Matter strides into Grandma’s kitchen
in her black stockings with holes in the heels
and a long black velvet dress
with fine lace insets.
“What does it matter, Mater,
if I should wander once in a while?
The fact of the matter is:
I’m green only for a day
before my dreams are heaped
in that pile of rubble in the orchard.”
It’s just a matter of time, perhaps
until she’s gone down the anticline,
until she’s reached the event horizon,
the point of no returning.
Still, the young ones are donning
black stockings of our own
to follow her in her dance
as though the dance is all that matters.
1. People working for Justice
2. People willing to engage the hard conversations
3. People with hope in their hearts
4. People who sing even when it’s dark
5. People whose M.O. is Love
May we walk in Beauty!