Summer Solstice

 As I prepared to meet a co-worker and celebrate in our own unique and likely awkward way, I looked for poems and thought of bringing a candle. And then I knew we do not need a candle because the light is here. We do not need words because our hearts are shining true.  There, here, in the desert among the rocks, the light is intense and beautiful. The shade is necessary and sweet. This solstice morning, we hang in the balance - moving neither away nor towards, we can be with what is, in this moment containing all moments. 

If you are looking for solstice poetry, I recommend David Whyte The Opening of Eyes and Jeanne Lohmann Full Stop in the Desert.  Do you have recommendations for me?

2023

 i open my heart to 2023.

with curiosity and with tenderness. 

there is a hint of sadness in today’s cloudy wind. 

i turn towards the sadness and towards the intensity and bright lights that are coming. 

i take the opportunity this bardo gives, for leaping into knowing, for embracing what is, the wholeness and its broken parts. 

i bring it all into my tender heart and open into the vast spaciousness of sky. 

there is room for all of it, for all of us. we expand into the joyful dance of the silent stillness. 

i can see everything in everything—and we can see it in each other.  

more to come, and all is done. 

hello again

can i be awake to what is and also lean into what might be?

as i join the dance and the stillness, as i know the presence of sun amidst storm and the value of both, as i put on my boots to climb the mountains and still take time to savor the grassy meadow —— 

may i begin to change my habitual responses as i choose this or that or the third thing. 

the third way — using the elements at hand to create energy useful in the current situation. 

neither grasping nor pushing away. this is it.  this is it.  this is it.  

curiosity

 i woke today with weird dreams filling my mind, and with a vague sense of dread.  

then i remembered my commitment in 2021 to wonder, curiosity and wow!  

my inner sky began to brighten, as i wondered what today will bring. i can listen, and begin to understand my own thoughts and those of others. i can respond with wow! instead of with oh no! or oops!

sometimes i will do this, and sometimes i will not.  and i can wonder about that too.

join me in this adventure?  

together we will smile.

a year of healing — me

this is the year of healing  me, and of holding myself with warmth, like a daughter returning home. 

i learned from my family that i can, and should, be peace. i felt responsible to keep the boat from rocking. chaos, rage or any deep emotion hurts and needs to be contained. 

i no longer choose to live that learning. 

i see differently.  the fire and chaos of the volcano birth a new mountain.  i lean in, without aversion and without grasping.  i allow, and use, the generativity of what i feel  

this year i hold and heal me.  in community with those i love, and with those i don’t like so much as well.  together in healing and the slow quiet growth that comes in its season.

ritual

the rituals that are the symbols used to live my traditions have changed so much over the 65 years of my life. 

reflection reminds me of the deep gratitude i have for my parents and others who showed and still show me what matters. and that they were able to see, as my rituals changed, that the traditions were still strong in me.

what matters deeply to you?

what rituals do you use as daily reminders of these things?

as joseph campbell said, “the divine manifestation is ubiquitous, only our eyes are not open to it. the symbol opens our eyes.”

where do your eyes see the “divine”? it is each of us.  are our eyes open to see it within ourselves, our neighbors, and even our enemies?

my rituals of late include metta (lovingkindness) meditation.  may he be happy.  may she be healthy. may their life be easeful.  calling this forth opens my eyes to our commonalities, that we are not separate. and i see, sometimes, what shines within and without. 

“Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.”  — rumi

(thank you to peg mulqueen of  ashtanga dispatch for launching these thoughts today.  ashtangadispatch.com)

poem from 4/3, on 5/4

Poem from 4/3, on 5/4

I want to sit long enough to be grounded in eternity

 and then get up off my pillow to move through the field of time joyfully and with purpose.

nam myoho renge kyo within recognizing nam myoho renge kyo without

these are times for wisdom voices speaking

these are times for wisdom ears hearing

these are times for bravely breathing out - delight!

these are times for bravely breathing in - suffering!

without clinging

without fear

open eyes

soft heart

open ears

soft heart

invite all the people

the loving ones

the scary ones

the greedy ones

the joyful ones

or twos or threes or more

coming and going

suffering and delighting

open hands

soft heart

open heart

soft hands

open

soft

open

soft

open

soft