Streaming color transforms the river
Greens, blues, and the red of my blood flow down
To its source.
Will the pain fade
Or bound and basic to the elements
Will I have to let the last drop?
i found a
that had a
mirror in it
looked in at
weed in it.
- a.r. ammons
as harold took a bite of bavarian sugar cookie he finally felt as if everything was going to be okay.
sometimes when we lose ourselves in fear and despair,
in routine and constancy
in hopelessness and tragedy
we can thank god for bavarian sugar cookies.
and fortunately, when there aren’t any cookies
we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin
or a kind and loving gesture
or a subtle encouragement
or a loving embrace
or an offer of comfort
(not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs and uneaten danish)
and soft spoken secrets
and fender stratacasters
and maybe the occasional piece of fiction.
and we must remember that all these things
the nuances the anomolies the subtleties which we assume only accessorize our days
are in fact here for a much larger and nobler cause.
they are here to save our lives.
i know the idea seems strange
but I also know that it just so happens to be true.
An excerpt from the book ”Death and Taxes” …in the movie “Stranger Than Fiction”
- prisoner: so they let you tote that record player down there (into the hole) with you?
- tim robins: it's in here <pointing to head>. in here <pointing to heart>. that's the beauty of music. they can't get that from you. haven't you ever felt that way about music?
- morgan freeman: i played the mean harmonica as a young man. lost interest in it though. doesn't make much sense in here.
- tim robbins: here is where it makes the most sense. you need it so you don't forget?
- morgan freeman: forget?
- tim robbins: forget that there are places in the world that aren't made out of stone. that there's something inside that they can't get to... that they can't touch... that's yours.
- morgan freeman: what are you talking about?
- tim robbins: hope.
- excerpt from the movie "shawshank redemption"
i’ve always been pretty terrified of disappointment. it seems to be the most painful thing… loss.
and that is what disappointment is, loss. loss of hope, loss of anticipated pleasures, expansions, dreams.
loss of something that brings you happiness NOW just thinking of it happening sometime somewhere in the future.
am i a slave to my fear of disappointment, to my fear of loss?
boxed in. controlled. chained. shocked into submission.
i feel like it.
i push my toe out into the dangerous world of desire
- a job, a pair of concert tickets, a boyfriend, a life of my own making
WHAM! off with the toe!
so now, i just have phantom pains… lol!
what if i just jumped in… all of me?
and what if i get smashed, bashed, bounced about on the road (of life)
by no discernible external force?
am i really any worse off?
sure i have a scrape on my knee and my elbow… but it heals.
i’m sure i’ve become (or always have been) a big coward.
i’ll run away at 5 years old to live with a friends’ grandmother and end up across town lost after dark. when i’m returned home by a stranger, an angel, a black girl not much older than me, i’m balling my eyes out, head ablaze… disappointed, afraid, furious and numb.
i promise to never run away again… and i keep the damn promise!
did you hear me? I KEEP THE DAMN PROMISE!
i divorce my husband (in part) because i blame him for our financial rollercoaster… only to find i’m still on one.
i wonder how my mother moved us around so much (the islands aren’t THAT big, lol!) until she builds her dream home on the big island and i’m the one who can’t stay put.
i want a degree but i’ve been to 3 universities and 3 colleges in 4 states and don’t have an associates.
i want love but find i’m on the same merry-go round going in circles with the same guy… for 10 years now.
i walk out the door and go to work because i want the comforts and ease of clean running water, a flushing toilet, a hot shower,a warm dry safe place to sleep, clean clothes, fresh food… and simple pleasures.
i want for simple things because i’ve learned that these are the only things i can count on… the sun, the moon, the rain, the river.
they never disappoint. they’re always giving and giving and giving by just being what they are. and they don’t cost anything to receive.
i don’t have to have any money. i don’t have to have any prestige or degree or power. the only thing i have to have… is me - my nose, my skin, my eyes, my tongue, my ears… and my heart. the only thing required is that i show up in the moment and appreciate what’s been given to me. and when you don’t have much, well, it’s pretty easy. :)
it still stings. i still cry. i still want to see a perfect circle. lol!
i still want that feeling of love, joy, ecstasy… the music moving in me and through me… about me, out me. there are just those people, when you’re in the same room with them, where everything feels different. the whole world has changed somehow. (it’s a little sci-fi, actually. <grin>)
so, i guess what i’m saying is…
i can’t blame anyone for this little tiny life i’ve smooshed myself into…
(damn! i feel as if i can barely move around in here. there’s certainly no room for accidents… of any kind.)
and maybe the scabs and scars are part of the journey here.
i wonder at those people who want something and somehow it just works out for them (no scabs, no scars involved)
and i’m in awe of those people who get knocked down and stand right back up again… over and over, despite the beatings like gandhi.
i’d like to live somewhere in between.
it feels terrible believing you can’t ever get what you really want.
and that if, by some happenstance, you do experience something wonderful… it lasts just long enough so you really suffer afterwards when it’s gone for good.
certainly makes my little box of plush safety look amazingly inviting.
hmm, maybe i’ll just crawl back inside my crate and think about going out… lol!
maybe i learned that disappointment doesn’t hurt THAT bad.
yeah, it HURTs. soul stretching always hurts.
but maybe it’s there to give one a little more space to breathe…
a little more compassion to share… a little more to appreciate…
when the sun does shine, when love kisses your cheek, when the music plays, when your soul soars, when everything feels right as rain…
maybe what i needed wasn’t courage… but a little trust,
a little faith.
to hear my words spoken out loud in a group
they sounded so puny, hollow, trite
these words had risen in my heart in thanksgiving
to me, they are the most powerful words one can speak to another
thank you for being
thank you for sharing what you’ve come here to give
im paraphrasing, of course.
they were sent in text, compiled and piled with other’s
line upon line, tetris blocks rising on another’s screen
to be read and received in full strength
(like chinese medicine, in a tiny black pill
or homeopathy, in a tiny white one)
had the shock (and fear) of hearing a voice say my name
(did it) drain them of their potency? their magic?
was the blessing received with the same heart felt simplicity
as when offered
somehow the crone transformed into the maiden
insecure, unsure, and vulnerable.
does the crone’s words lose her mana when a woman transforms into the maiden?
or like pele, does her power remain… no matter what shape she takes
had a vivid dream about going out to dinner… and seated next to me was an older couple entertaining 2 different aliens. i respectfully stood and waited to be formally introduced. in response, they all stood, *looked* at me, and then inexplicably disappeared. i watched as the last person in the small restaurant, a woman, ran into the garden a few yards from where i stood and lept into a bright focused beam of light and evaporated before my eyes. i ran out to the light but before i could get there it was gone, too. i know it was just a dream… but how disappointing. i have questions especially about the very distinct message i received from the table of 4 as they stood looking at me. “they want a *peaceful* world… without us in it.” because the human race is incapable of sustained peace? or because the insatiable greed and lust for power (of a few) will never allow it? or ? ‘ya know what i mean. are aliens species-ist? are they just as hateful as racist, agist, sexist, classist, (and any other way you can define/divide people)? do we smell THAT bad? ;)
it’s comforting to know that life provides enough encouragement to vanquish the despair from viewing in full the impossibility of overcoming insurmountable opposition that a fool will throw themself with blinding focus into achieving it anyway.
“joy appreciation love and health are all synonomous
resentment jealousy depression anger and sickness are all synonomous”
“My true religion, my simple faith is in love and compassion. There is no need for complicated philosophy, doctrine, or dogma. Our own heart, our own mind, is the temple. The doctrine is compassion. Love for others and respect for their rights and dignity, no matter who or what they are - these are ultimately all we need.”
- Dalai Lama