Revelations

I sit swimming in words, swimming INwards
wandering wondering about love
when I check for her words
and find five notes that splay themselves
out for me to touch like waiting lovers.
Will she let me be her editor?
She has
One of learning
Two of Church and Family
Three of Motherhood
Four of Discovery and Revelation
and Five of me.
She thinks this is prose, a post,
journaling a truth to send my way
to maybe send me away.
This handsome disclaimer that she is —
Does she know that she has made me poetry?

Contemplating Independence

When the first one was still a baby, there was a night of unexpected fireworks that frightened him awake; it was just at the start of the first Iraqi war. As I held him and tried to comfort him, I had the full knowing that there was no actual harm or concern to accompany his fear. At that thought, I felt the presence of countless other Mama’s with their children, unknown to me and far far away. This mom could feel the exact same empathy for her baby’s fear of noises too close to home, but could not offer herself nor him the comfort of its harmlessness. And that was at the expense of my and my son’s privilege. Continue reading “Contemplating Independence”

The Goddess Rambles

So, the thing is, they expect so much from us here,

tending to the children, and to the work, and these bodies, and egos,

and the other challenges men craft for themselves.

And then there is all this breathing to do, and then all the air molecules everywhere,

that are SO interesting. And moments to savor.

And I just can’t seem to square how to hold it all at the same time.

“What is the question?” is exactly the question.

So some of us can’t, you know, hold it all together.

And there are great warnings about that happening –

“You’d better hold it together” “C’mon, man pull yourself together”

And the best, in the delivery room — did you hear me,

IN THE MIDDLE OF BIRTHING — they say to me:

“We need you hold on just a little more, just breathe, honey.”

“Breathe?” I thought, “That’s what got me here in the first place!”

If the breathing and the loving and the waiting to become

weren’t so excruciatingly compelling, holding on and breathing

wouldn’t require instruction.

That’s the thing, in fact, there are classes in breathing, breathing practices,

some people even go so far as to make it into breath work.

So, some of us just can’t hold it all, all at the same time.

And that can go two ways, of course, you can fall into either side.

You end up either completely lost to the human race

— or completely found.

And more than half the time, the rest of them,

the ones who still believe there is something to hold on to,

they think that looks like crazy.

Though a few people get lucky, and they decide they just can’t hold it all

they just know it is pointless to try to see the point,

so, they decide not to.

And they let it go.

The other word for that here is they “Become.”

They Become either Insane or Enlightened.

And as far as I can figure,

the only difference I can see between the ones who lose it “wrong” and

the ones who lose it “by grace” is that the latter have learned to,

you guessed it, breathe, at least better than they’ve learned to do.

Those humans, they have trouble holding all the e-mail and appointments and

“what do you want for dinners” AND all the breathing and seeing,

so they just drop the part that’s harder to hold.

So they let go.

And breathe.

I think this will be much easier if I join them.

Awareness (rewrite)

My mind invites me to collect the data of this moment,
My mind would pretend to name it’s truth,
My mind is present in this moment, but it is not this moment.
There is no data, no analysis.
There is only this moment.

My body invites me to be industrious.
My body would have me pushing or pulling or leaving.
My body is present to know pleasure and suffering.
There is nothing to do right.
There is only this moment and the ability to sense.

My ego invites me to predict and control.
My ego would have me regret, anticipate, manipulate.
My ego is present to provide awareness of my Self.
There is no good enough or not good enough.
There is only this moment, sensing, and awareness of self.

My heart invites me to feel this love.
My Heart would have me lean in or lean out,
My heart is present to feel this love, but it is not this love.
There is no sadness, no joy.
There is only this moment, sensing, awareness, and love.

This moment, love, awareness, sensing,
These are the gifts that invite me to connect.
They guide me to gather with others
To connect minds, hearts, egos and bodies
Into a collective awareness.
To become One.

Meditation can be a beautiful form of masturbation.

SOMEDAY I’LL BE BACK AT SCHOOL,
SKINNY OLDER LADY SAUNTERING ACROSS CAMPUS
WITH MY CUSHION AND MY HEAD COVERED,
IN JEANS AND A FLOWY SHIRT THAT SHOWS OFF MY SEXY ABS.
I DON’T NEED NO MAKEUP BECAUSE PEOPLE JUST LOOK INTO MY EYES –
ALWAYS MY EYES, BECAUSE I STILL TALK, BUT MORE,
I LOOK. AND LISTEN, AND THERE IS AN INFINITY OF MEANING
IN THOSE MOVEMENTS YOU MAKE
WHEN YOU DON’T SAY.

AND I REMEMBER THAT THERE WAS A TIME,
I WAS SO SO LOQUACIOUS AND I TALKED SO MUCH THAT I COULDN’T HEAR,
AND I EVEN TALKED SO MUCH I COULDN’T SEE,
AND SO I DIDN’T NOTICE THEN ALL THE QUIET THINGS NO-ONE SAYS OUT LOUD
BUT THEY SHOW IT, THEIR LITTLE MOVEMENTS BETRAY THE TRUTH
AND THAT IS WHAT I SEE, NOW THAT I FINALLY SHUT UP.

I’M TRAINING TO BE A TEACHER, BUT NOT THE REGULAR KIND
WITH GRADE-BOOKS AND CURRICULUM THAT MUST BE TURNED IN
OR LESSON PLANS – FOR GOD’S SAKE HOW COULD WE IMAGINE A LESSON PLAN FOR THIS?
I’M GONNA BE A TEACHER WITHOUT A PLAN,
JUST A FEW GOD IDEAS JOTTED DOWN ON THIS HERE POST-IT NOTE
AND A SHELF FULL OF BOOKS IN THE REAL WORLD AND ONE IN MY HEAD
THAT I HAVE BOOKMARKED AND HIGHLIGHTED AND NOW I TEACH
BY WATCHING WHAT YOU DIDN’T SAY AND THEN I REMEMBER
THAT I READ SOMEWHERE THAT SOMEBODY ALREADY SAID THAT
SO I HELP YOU OUT WITH THE WORDS, GIVE YOU THAT TEACHER
WHO CAME BEFORE I BOOKMARKED THEM
SO THAT I COULD LOOK AT YOU HERE AND NOW AND REMEMBER THEM
AND CONNECT YOU TWO BACK UP WITH EACH OTHER. ISN’T THAT NICE?

BUT I’M NOT SOME FUCKING CHARLATAN PSYCHIC OR MADAME OR ANYTHING.
THIS IS THE REAL KIND OF FORMAL OFFICIAL ACADEMIC SHIT UP IN HERE
WITH LETTERS AFTER MY NAME AND EVERYTHING
AND YOU TRUST ME WITH THAT AND SO ARE LURED IN BY THE ACADEMIC ILLUSION
BUT I REMEMBER THE GOD STUFF THAT WAS MORE TRUE THAN IMPORTANT,
AND I’M TOTALLY HAPPY TO HOOK YOU UP.