Sunday, April 15, 2018

good grief!

o so many friends..
friends of friends..
family friends are
making the transition
moving across the threshold
some whisked away
by disease
olde age
some making choices
to say sayonara
and free themselves
of body, speech and mind..

as hafiz says so graciously -
death is a favor to us
reminding us of our mid-air flight
from vessel to wine glass to..clay..

those of us..
left behind in bones
and flesh
and heartache
reel from the news

let go..
~ our only instruction
at the time of our birth ~
let go..
of the umbilical cord..
let go..
of the wee fisted palm
let go..
of our bladders and bowels..
let go..
of the milky breast
on and on...
letting go -

until we let go of the very shape
and bone and heartbeat and memory
that we have called home for..
how many years?

clearing out my mama's closet
one morning after her death i found
the black cordory jumper she loved to wear
for fine dinners and outings ..
i drew in the fragrance of her..
and found myself slipping the
open arms around my neck.
- it embraced me like the cape
of some action figure..
i wore it all day..
this tender cloak of my mother -
witnessed by a bemused neighbor
as i emptied the recycling outside..
it was dusk when i realized
i had been en-wrapped in her all day..

i step out of her essence
let go
place it on the pile for soroptimist

 that same day..

making applesauce
peeling, coring, cutting
my fingers working
fleeting fast
much quicker than my mama's moved
toward the end of her sauce days
knowing the slowing
will come to my own fingertips
i stop
find my age
this moment
let go
and pace myself

grief..good grief..
these recollections
birdwings rumi calls them..

your grief for what you've lost lifts a mirror
up to where you are bravely working.

expecting the worse, you look and instead,
here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.

your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
if it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.

your deepest presence is in every small contracting 
                                                                    and expanding,
the two beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

phones....keeping quiet...

phones killed the sexiness of the streets..
     - joel meyerowitz

walk the streets in any city,
the paths of a wooded land,
the trails along oceans and around lakes..
aisles in whole foods and co-ops..

where is the
of the human race?

to a
smart phone in hand,
blue tooth in ear..
eyes - glassy
ears - listening
to a
small voice
on the line
in a box
while all the while
we have gone AWOL
for one another
in the flesh..
the flash of a smile -
the catch of the eye..

chapter 12
- timothy snyder
make eye contact and small talk

instead we are eavesdropping
on hundreds of conversations
that have nothing whatsoever
to do with us..

she told him NO a million times..
use the big orange saucepan -
don't tell mom about this, promise?
i sold all my shares this morning -
where is the toilet paper you just brought home?
how many downdogs can you do in a day?
pick up the mess in the front yard before i get home or i'll...
cancer, i think..?
i looked at the house..way too much money..
meet me in the deli by the olive bar -
she's on some kind of drug that makes her..
what a sunset! you are missing out here..

remember the days when we would actually
meet someone new at the car wash?
on a bus?
in the cereal section?

'tis time to put the thing down..
leave it in the car..
leave it at home, for that matter ~

get sexy again..
even if you are olde and broken..
make it real as santana advises ~
fall in love
with the sound of the waves
the rasp of the streets
your very own footprints

keeping quiet

now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

this one time upon the earth,
let’s not speak any language,
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

it would be a delicious moment,
without hurry, without locomotives,
all of us would be together
in a sudden uneasiness.

the fishermen in the cold sea
would do no harm to the whales
and the peasant gathering salt
would look at his torn hands.

those who prepare green wars,
wars of gas, wars of fire,
victories without survivors,
would put on clean clothing
and would walk alongside their brothers
in the shade, without doing a thing.

what i want shouldn’t be confused
with final inactivity:
life alone is what matters,
i want nothing to do with death.

if we weren’t unanimous
about keeping our lives so much in motion,
if we could do nothing for once,
perhaps a great silence would
interrupt this sadness,
this never understanding ourselves
and threatening ourselves with death,
perhaps the earth is teaching us
when everything seems to be dead
and then everything is alive.

now i will count to twelve
and you keep quiet and i’ll go.
                 ~ neruda

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

by the thousands

they came in the dusky eve..
oodles of them..
winged and strong
in the pinkening sky..

and then..
they landed ..
in the field that i  see
just outside my door..

they rise ..
taking the earth with them..
they hover..
like holy levitating rollers
a rock concert concerto
of snow geese..
coming from the north

when they land
they bring the sky
to clay
and all is one
and white

it is the season of renewal..
a revival of the survival
of great flight

one -
only one..
one lone hummingbird
slurps the nectar
from the feeders now..

while the blare and flare
and high rise
saturate the air, the earth
with a dharma teaching
of community..

Thursday, March 22, 2018

yoga practice - thursdays - beginning april 5

the unthinkable / is thinkable.
             ~ wislawa szymborska

dear yoginis and yogis..
it is four months soon
since the titanium infusion ..
i am ready and willing to try
my hand and heart,
my feet and thighs,
bones, blood and breath
at sharing the practice of yoga..
yet again..

if you have the inclination and intention
to practice with a mended mendicant..
o ..
that would please me no end (in sight)

here are the particulars ~
beginning APRIL 5
9 - 10:30 AM

therefore ~

if you have classes left over from
a series anytime in the past..
they are redeemable always..

please know deep in your beating hearts
that i am sincerely grateful
and much moved to reams of admiration
for all of you who have supported me
and kept me afloat these many months...
( how do i love thee? let me count the ways..)

i have tested my wings down here
in rainy california & i feel it's a go -
this fledgling is ready to fly..

please cheque the blog
for any news or lack thereof..
text or call - for queries -
360 770 7891

aiming for an anacortes class
the perfect spot finds me..

as always, within my address book there
are holes and crevices and craters
and clothes dryer bermuda triangles ..
so please feel free to share this e-mail
with the great many..

every creature on earth has approximately
two billion heartbeats to spend in a lifetime.
you can spend them slowly, like a tortoise,
and live to be two hundred years old, or
you can spend them fast, like a hummingbird,
and live to be two years old.
                                 ~ brian doyle
                                 the wet engine

Sunday, March 4, 2018

you will understand the wonder

i saw the first of the boughs
carried to the lacy limbed tree
and wondered if the branches would hold
a hearty nest of eagles..

days and days ..
boughs and branches
fashioned in a roost
of such robust stock and beauty..
i now have no doubt..

even still i see the aerie
being refined and refurbished
to hold the tenderly tucked in eggs ..
the pair of eagles sit out on their deck
holding vigil, keeping watch ..
on the lookout for robbers and rogues
who might go after the precious nestlings
snestled deep in the feathered weave of home..

there then -
in the deep of my own heartnest..
yours too?
such a softness..
sadness and joy.. coalesce ~
how does that happen?

the crafting of a nest..
the love play mid-air -
creation and wild wisdom ..
egg making.. my goodness!
the silhouettes of the great bodies,
eagle eye awareness and presence..
waiting.. waiting.. waiting..

a vast patience unknown to me -
care - far beyond my capacity..
tenacity.. tirelessness..
companionship to the nth
it breaks my heart in two..

and that.. 
that.. is the wonder..
the awe in awesome ~

stunned into heartache
broken open to the evanescent
witness to the fleeting
this ~
this is the wonder and the grace of all things..
our response to the all is the sense of wonder

no wonder the wise instruction
is to allways be kind..
to the eternal flight each of us make
into the next moment and the next..
we turn sideways into light and disappear ~

Friday, February 16, 2018

tortoise moves - yoga class coming soon

just as the hare is zipping across the finish line,
the tortoise has stopped once again
by the road side,
this time to stick out his neck
and nibble a bit of sweet grass,
unlike the previous time
when he was distracted
by a bee humming in the heart of a wildflower.
                              ~ billy collins

it is 3 months now since i was sliced and slivered
to implant the porcelain  ball and titanium socket..for hip hooray!
to slip the slim lean metal into my own femur bone..
merging and melding and minding their business..
it is slow going..
bone receptive to the metallic element
in it's own time..
Ti is deemed a transition metal..
a common element in the earth's crust..
it is strong.. it is light..

the healing comes unhurried and is hard won..
the challenges of going slow ~

having been dubbed a hummingbird..
a whiz-bang fast whirl of a girl..
i am slow..
a plodder..a plunker..pokey..
and yet..

what a gift to walk again..
in the woods, on the trails..
to practice the yoga moves
that have been in cells and marrow
from lifetimes of remembering..
soon i will be on my bike peddling the breeze
when the pavement dries
and the warm sun assures some safety ..
in balance
and uprightness..

though it is a month or so away..
i will dare an atttempt to share
the practice of yoga..
as it arrives to me..
now in turtle time
with all who would like to join in..
starting slow with one class a week..
beginning april 5
thursday mornings
9 AM
@ crescent moon yoga in laconner
it is not part of the pay program of CMY 
so ~
the rates of class are the same..
$18 for a drop-in..
$108 for 7 classes..
if you have classes left on the books,
you know they are good as gold..

( kindly spread the word !)

the buddha has said it is more difficut
to obtain a human birth
than it would be for a blind tortoise
coming up from the depths of the ocean
only once every hundred years
to put its head by chance
thru the opening of a wooden yoke
tossed around by waves on the surface..

we have this precious human birth ~
with a propensity to practice
and study the dharma..
moving our bones and flesh..
the very elements of earth..
remembering air..breath..prana
the "holy" wind -
bringing us to the wellspring
of this precious present moment..
inseparable from our earthy, mulchy clay..
hard won and fleeting ..
let us practice!

statistically, the probability of any one of us 
being here is so small that you'd think
that the mere fact of existing would keep us all 
in a contented dazzlement of surprise.
                   - lewis thomas

Monday, February 5, 2018

heart of the matter -

whether you have loved a human being
or whether you have loved god,
if you have loved enough -
you will be brought in the end
to the deep presence 
of supreme love itself..
                    ~ rumi

the practice of waking up is cultivated/generated
by the tuning of the the sufis instruct us..
by diving thru the veneer of the heart..which is the mind ~
thru that deep discernment
to the heart of the matter ..the heart itself..
when we penetrate the surface of the mind ..
that which thinks..
to that which feels..the tender cave of the heart..
we have entered the culture of the heart ~

as we tune the heart..
change and re-arrange the vibrations of the heart...
uplifting them to a certain octave or pitch..
we find our true pulse - our natural radiance -
and feel the joyful resonance and ecstasy of life..
this allows us to give delight to others simply by our presence..
simply by being tuned..

when an instrument is tuned..
just plucking a string or playing a key,
a magnetic influence pings! us ~
even from one note of music!
if a well-tuned instrument
might have that enchantment,
how much greater might
the magnetism of a well-tuned heart?

we actually tune the heart by looking/listening
deep within..finding our note and perfecting it..
here we lose our self-importance
and gain a compassionate reciprocity
with all beings and things..
the yoga sutras of patanjali calls it:
right relationship ~
that relationship is love..
supreme love!

may our hearts be captivated by the season of love..
which never fades away..

i'm gonna tell you how it's gonna be
you're gonna give your love to me
i'm gonna love you night and day
well love is love and not fade away
well love is love and not fade away

my love bigger than a cadillac
i try to show it and you're drivin' me back
your love for me has got to be real
for you to know just how I feel
love is real and not fade away
well love is real and not fade away

i'm gonna tell you how it's gonna be
you're gonna give your love to me
love to last more than one day
well love is love and not fade away
well love is love and not fade away
well love is love and not fade away
love - love is love and not fade away
not fade away
not fade away
                    -the rolling stones