changing the room of my mind

There’s so much I want to say.  So much I could say about friendship, and belonging, and how care (or the absence of it) feels deep in the center of my being.  About feeling dehumanized so often.  Objectified.  Plunked into the fantasies and projections of men who said they loved me but didn’t show me care.

I could talk about how my ache for belonging has led me to saying yes when I knew it should be a “no”.  About how finding the courage to finally say “no” meant being cast out.  Shut out.  (Or worse.)

About how that makes me not trust anyone, especially myself.

I will write about those things and more. I  know there are others who need to these stories but today, just for today, I’ll linger on the sweet sustenance of this poem by Hafiz and just let my heart rest deep inside my animal body.

“All the Hemispheres
Leave the familiar for a while.
Let your senses and bodies stretch out

Like a welcomed season
Onto the meadow and shores and hills.

Open up to the Roof.
Make a new watermark on your excitement
And love.

Like a blooming night flower,
Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness
And giving
Upon our intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day.

All the hemispheres in existence
Lie beside an equator
In your heart.

Greet Yourself
In your thousand other forms
As you mount the hidden tide and travel
Back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven
Are sitting around a fire
Chatting

While stitching themselves together
Into the Great Circle inside of
You.”

~Hafiz

Update:  After I wrote this, I went to yoga with one of my favorite teachers, Ashley.  At the end of class, she put my head in her hands and gently said, “I’ve got you girl.”  Quiet tears rolled down my cheeks.

Trust is earned but we have to remember to open to it.  Opening…

bricolage project day 8 [“waking-life”]

bricolage_project_10-08-15

I went biking around Greenlake with my daughter this afternoon so I decided to make my bricolage there with whatever I found.  The graffiti was already on the table and I love it.  Love the color and the form.  My rule was that everything had to come from the ground.  You will see that the date is made up from the objects in the piece.  I loved doing this.  It took a long time to get it just right and I found it very meditative.  As we biked home at twilight after biking for about ten miles, I felt so renewed.

Today’s word(s) “waking-life”, comes from Michael Meade‘s book Fate and Destiny: The Two Agreements of the Soul.  This book is so good.  So devourable.  If you’ve never seen Meade speak or been to one of his workshops, I highly recommend it.  You will come away altered.  I count him as one of my most beloved and revered teachers.  Today’s quote comes from the book I mentioned:

photographic evidence of me doing the word choosing

 

When we ignore the limits of fate and the hints of destiny we tighten the unconscious web of our lives.  Eventually, we make our lives fixed, settled, and intractable.  Thus, we seal our own fate and ignore our hidden destinies…Shifting fate and finding the destiny within is part of the art of truly living and of living truly.

 

 

 

I heard it’s National Poetry Day today so I’ll share one of my very favorite poems:

I Ask for Silence, Pablo Neruda (trans. Alastair Reid)

Now they can leave me in peace.
Now they grow used to my absence.

I am going to close my eyes.

I want only five things,
five chosen roots.

One is an endless love.

Two is to see the autumn.
I cannot exist without leaves
flying and falling to the earth.

The third is the solemn winter,
the rain I loved, the caress
of fire in the rough cold.

Fourth, the summer,
plump as a watermelon.

And fifthly, your eyes,
Matilde, my dear love,
I won’t sleep without your eyes,
I won’t exist without your gaze,
I adjust the spring
for you to follow me with your eyes.

That, friends, is all I want.
Next to nothing, close to everything.

Now they can go if they wish.

I have lived so much that some day
they will have to forget me forcibly,
rubbing me off the blackboard.
My heart was inexhaustible.

But because I ask for silence,
don’t think I’m going to die.
The opposite is true;
it happens I am going to live.

To be, and to go on being.

I will not be, however, if inside me,
the crop does not keep sprouting,
the shoots first, breaking through the earth
to reach the light;
but the mothering earth is dark,
and, deep inside me, I am dark.
I am a well in the water of which
the night leaves behind stars
and goes on alone across fields.

It’s a question of having lived so much
that I want to live a bit more.

I never felt my voice so clear,
never have been so rich in kisses.

Now, as always, it is early.
The light is a swarm of bees.

Let me alone with the day.
I ask leave to be born.

bricolage project day 7 [finding]

your he(art) is ready.

Today’s randomly-chosen word is finding from Awakening the Heroes Within by Carol S. Pearson.  I continue to be intrigued with the words that are coming each day.  I open the book to a random page and point to a word without looking.  Twice, I’ve pointed to a blank page but otherwise, these are the words I’m getting.  The words thus far have been nameless, girlhood, alone, perceived, whimsical, beginnings, and now finding.  Fascinating bits of randomness given the nature of my art and life.

bricolage_project_10-07-15

Today’s rule for the art piece is:  No frame.  The frame has been dissolved by the rain falling in my lovely city today and has been replaced by openness,  possibility, and poetry.

rain falling softly

like a lover whispering

“stay right here with me”

Today’s quote is actually a stanza from a poem that I was reading this morning.  The poem is “Ocean Lady” from The Poetry of Pablo Neruda.  I chose it because it stopped me.  Each word is like a little found treasure at the beach that I keep turning over in my heart to see the way time has etched itself on the surface.

Remember: you carry the bird’s heart
in its cage: the debate of wings and song,
so many violins, soaring and flashing.
Gather, gather for me, the sounds and jewels,
until wrapped in air and fire, we voyage
accompanied by the congress of pure harmonies
to morning’s waterfall of shimmering ingots.
And may our love palpitate like a fish in the cold.

Perhaps this catches in my heart because it speaks to the tension I feel related to domestication and my heart’s deep longing for freedom and an embrace of the wild.  The way we have been domesticated doesn’t work for me.  I don’t have tidy hair or any sort of desire to appear respectable or professional to others.  I embrace authenticity and admire it in others.   I don’t aspire to live in the woods but I do have Neruda’s “debate of wings and song” happening at present.

Yesterday, I was introduced to the writing of Jeriah Bowser and his Wildist perspective.  I found his piece Weeds in the Holy Garden: A Wildest Review of the Laudato Si’ to echo many of my own current thoughts about the very real problems we face on this planet and the way that transcendent belief systems are serving to calcify these problems.  My desire to find harmony with life is often thwarted by the degree to which our world becomes increasingly controlled and carved up.  As Mr. Bowser says, “…there is the daily reality of resistance to domestication.”

There’s a teaching story about how a mouse in a cage can wiggle through the bars if it stops eating the cheese.  The question is:  What will it find on the other side of the bars?

in the silence

This morning, I led my second writing workshop at a local homeless shelter.  Before I arrived, I chose the following prompt:

In the silence I understand…

We do 20 minutes of free writing and then share.  I found it interesting that one of the women I was working with could hear but didn’t speak.  I found myself communicating with someone who was silent.  She carried a great deal of peace and her writing reflected that.

My own free writing was rambling, as always:

In the silence I understand that I can access serenity when I choose it but it’s okay to just be in the place of wild cacophony.  I understand that the howling wind holds a silence I cannot always understand but must feel.

In the silence I understand that my heart is weary but also strong with the tensile strength of steel but the softness of a baby’s cheek.  I understand that the world contains vile behavior from people we are supposed to trust but also the opportunity for forgiveness.

In the silence I understand that we are here to love and that love is often simpler in the silence.  The quiet heart lets me understand and know what is needed.

In the silence I understand that I am those restful, quiet spaces as well as the loud, sonic booms.  Every day brings the choice to explore which voice to use.  I understand that there is mystery but also answers.  In the silence I understand to wait long enough to hear.

I later went back through and found words and phrases to pull out for poems or stories.  I also found little messages that my heart left for me.  This was the primary one.

in the silenceTonight, a friend of my posted this on Facebook and I realized how much synchronicity is happening in my life.

“Silence is a great  source of strength.”  ~Lao Tzu

(I’m listening.)