Tuesday, June 30, 2015

when you are sitting in a dark room gazing

when you are sitting in a dark room gazing out into the black night and one lone firefly lights itself up like the fourth of july over the potomac all belief is suspended all doubts fade and there is a hanging possibility as it moves, darting higher and i gasp as it is beautiful and solitary and perfectly totally oblivious to the rain about to fall
the thunder and lightening gps-ing its way here to this small wee house on this small wee spot on this enormous big blue marble and all things become mighty apparent like the soul of horses the sureness of you the layered delicate task of parenting how fucking amazing books are
and the ridiculous over- simplification of wicked things like justice, water, poverty, illness, camping and lemon meringue pie - ALL become parts of the whole and parts of the something more requiring trust and love
that firefly sparks again and now there is thunder and the thrumming in my heart echoes into that place reserved for you delighting in that contrast of near and far suddenly the WHOLE sky lights up like one BIG firefly promising a crack, a passage, a thread of electric brilliance linking time and wonder and all things true and well  this crack this passage is waiting waiting waiting for completion for action and contentment to stay and risk movement
suddenly the firefly has vanished and as the thunder rumbles closer i am ready for a hot bath a good book and to dream of parts of the whole

Wednesday, June 3, 2015


I have never been comfortable with birthdays.  Very sharp memories roll across my personal
super-screen of sherbet-tight ruche'd dresses, bobbie socks and birthday hats.  It is when the singing begins, that ballad to birthdays, that I would bolt from the room inexplicably overcome with …. something.
Birthdays make me squirm … make me long for quiet, solitary moments near water or mountains or sky.  Recognition became intangible, uneasy … emotional.  Somewhere along the timeline, my psyche determined that to celebrate birthdays … to celebrate myself ….. with abandon and delight, somehow appeared wanting … I was afraid of the emotion of joy.
But, something is happening. Over the last few years, I am learning how to bend into the receiving, allow room for the gathering of things given : parties, cakes, trinkets, and artistry … and Love.
I am learning how to make room for not only joy, but for myself.
In receiving, I am softening & leaning into the grace of openness.
It is an expansive and grand thing to be recognized, to be celebrated …. to be seen.
To those with the patience and skill to 'teach' me … to love me enough to really know me - thank you.
We should never be afraid of being seen
 ,,,, just don't sing that damn birthday song.