Fear Being

When all Are Gone

And I Am Here Alone

Fear takes a Risk

pokes his forehead and one eye out,

looks around...notices there is lots of room

And instantaneously spreads his good cheer

The arms get shaky

Jittery stomach can hardly sit still

Heart full of quiver

Because Fear Knows it's safe

and she knows her fate

this is what he speaks;

Now I am here to be seen

and no longer have to stay locked up

in a knot, hiding in your belly

or the Back of your Neck

I can shake my self loose

Spread my wings And

Dance!

Not many will have me

And where I'm welcomed

I won't overstay

Because My Gracious Host

allows me.

And that's all I NEED to say.

Breathed I Am

Breathed I AM

By Aliveness

Made up of the elements

Done up by the Mystery

Here I AM

Here

I don't want you,

to breath me more or less;

this is Perfect, shallow or deep

I take it.

If this was the Last

I sit, enjoy and say Yes.

Blessed I AM

To notice YOU

In awe I am

To be breathed

is this not the biggest miracle

you've come across?

Touched I Am

To the bone

when bone will be ash

I won't be gone!

Like the voice of the wind

that has no location

no beginning

no ending....

I have blue

I have the same blue inside my arms
as on my walls.

How can I not be in wonder
in awe

How could have "my" body
create the same blue

You might think I have it backwards

But this blue of these veins
is the perfect blue

blue of my walls
is the perfect blue

every moment
a new delight

and the red of my shoes?

and the blue of the dress

wow..

the colours of my skin
the wrinkles, the textures

yet at times it's a stranger to me

often.

so much to know and always changing

not one day it's really the same

Reality it self,

Reminder of the wonder

Something in the belly

Welcome something in the belly..


you have been here for awhile. Tonight.

I feel a little worried about you, but I trust that you are well, and you know

what you are doing.



oh here you are kicking like a fetus would.

what sort of fetus are you?

are you made of longing?

are you made of fear?

of pain?



I know, I know these are just mumbelings to you, and that is not your language.

I still just wanted to show you that I see you,

and I do care.



Welcome something in the belly.

I will not dishonor you with a name.

Or ask you to rush off..



When and if I do, please forgive my stumbling and bumping into things

at times my blindness returns.

And my vision becomes a little blurred.



Welcome something in the belly.

Can we talk about Peace?

and the quality of it, what it means

where it comes from?

Can we understand peace with our bodies, not just as a concept with our minds

The palpable essence pumping through our veins, clearly not an emotion.
But an indestructible source

Can we feel the Echo it leaves in us, and others, and our surroundings

Can we feel it's timelessness and boundary-less-ness

With the eyes of peace,

How do you see a blade of grass?

hurried foot steps?

a confused or tangled expression of a passer by?

With the eyes of peace how do you hear the engine of a loud city bus?

Or see a flight of birds?

With the eyes of peace what is your inner world like?
how do you feel in your body?

With the eyes of peace do you feel the gentle strand of your hair blowing across your face in the wind?

with the eyes of peace do you plan for a future of are you deeply grounded here?

with the eyes of peace
do you see the natural stages of life as perfect and right?

the child, the adolescent, adulthood, the elder, the passing away of the body
like a flower the graces us with it's particular beauty, flavor, and fragrance.


Do you need to fight anything with the eyes of peace?

How fully do you see a blond haired pony tailed child, so full of curiousty
that it is infinity it self.

or a professionally dressed business  woman so happy to get a text, heels
clicking and clacking away

with the eyes of peace.

And in this No one to be.....

She is blended and faded, and mixed within the vast nature of reality with it's infinite infinite-ness

This can not be grasped alone by her mind's idea or image but those could be tools to articulate an intimate and direct experience of a place with out a center.

When she "let" herself (or just are) be eaten alive by life, engulfed by the vastness and never ending, seamless nature of experience.

The eye of the storm there is no more center.

And just as she once was there so seemingly solidly,

now,

just a faint mirage phantom is left in the place where she once used to be.

And such experiences that are painful for her in life, let her in fact
dive in to the bottomless bottom, 

tasting  and living deepest nature

Sadness full of grace

Sadness has stopped by for a visit today.

I know I just noticed her.

I think of asking her;

What shall we do? 

What would you like to do?



She seems a bit shy at first to talk.

But than she strengthens up

and says; let's just be



I say ok,

with a little hesitation, and a little resistance, but with a full heart.




Now I ask hesitation & resistance what were they saying again?

they answered; "when will she leave", "is she planning of staying for awhile"

"she makes me feel a little uneasy, I can't move about as freely as I like"

I notice them, and I do understand them.



They also want to be heard, they want the freedom to do and to be, they don't

always want to feel things.  And that's ok. 

But in this community, we try to hear everyone, and give space  and a chance where
space is needed, so I did notice those guys.  And there is room for them too.

But for now, we'll be getting to know our visitor sadness.

With all her quiet, wise, grace.




(inspired by Rumi's poem, the guest house, I think..)

A Poem or just some words on a screen




I want to tell you,

so instead I write,

I don't feel normal

when with you.

Don't get me wrong,

It's a freedom

I am,

When I'm with you.

I feel my freedom

I feel my womanness

I feel the goodness

that we are,

I want more,

I long for you

I see what your eyes tell me-

through your eyes

I see my best SELF

space is full.
opening to life.

two butterflies playing
cleaning up raccoon shit

we don't see space
doesn't mean it's empty

empty your empty

space is dynamic
energized

raccoon families screeching
cat fight?

Sanskrit chants
zen stories

Film festival coming
Excitement

stomach on fire
frowned face

space is dynamic
so we are

without writing
i might die.

One is not Two

Confusion as a part of my path.
I used to think that confusion needed to be abolished
Disappear as soon as I got better
As soon as I got more enlightened
More aware
But no
The truth is, confusion is my path
Not knowing what to do, what the right way to practice
In a moment of confusion
How long to stay with these sensations/thoughts
Then I realized I don’t know
But I don’t need to get rid of this
In fact I like it and love it
It is me as much as anything else is me
Just because it’s different and not pleasurable in the same way pleasure is
It doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel it
I want to feel it
I want to know what it’s like
Without an iota if wanting to change it or fix it
I want to taste it with my whole being
Not as an escape from it
Not as a strategy but as a diving in
Deep into my experience
Like a professional deep sea diver would into the
Vast and endless sea of my being
Because that’s what’s here
That’s what’s showing up
And one is not two

Indescribable

This that looks out from these eyes
And sees the night sky the trees softly swaying
Doesn’t know them as trees or night
Or infinite yet sees it
Trees and sky remind it
Evoke it and yet it really never was
Separate
so was there an evoking?
Was there a reminder?
And what is it that leads the eyes towards the windows
To the outside and the windows of the heart
Isn’t it the same again?
What is it which ponders the loneliness, or solitude it feels
What is it that wonders about the sadness and isolation
Why is it that it’s like a scratch that needs itching
Or like an itch that needs scratching
That won’t let go
That begs for attention
That pops through because there is an opening

Here

Opening big enough to welcome the questions
Without real answers, the kind of answers that pacify
No longer appeal
Something keeps pulling at the strings tugging at the sleeve
Until it is satisfied
What does it take to satisfy
This pull, this question
That has no words
That had no real form
And yet it appears
As a dis-ease
Un ease , a stirring of the soul
Or the heart
A stirring of all souls
Of all hearts
Of the soul of souls
And wants to be let out
To be seen
Once and for all
Clearly
And without a doubt
 

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