Saturday, August 18, 2012

oh, filthy water

i built myself a desert
i wrote you this letter
i dug my own grave

so shallow
so you'll never come back

i went into hiding
with a picture of you smiling
and you never came

i can't swallow
don't ever come back

oh filthy water under the bridge in my city
drown the ocean of tears that falls into you tonight
oh filthy water under the bridge, wash over me
now we know there's no fear when we close our eyes

i set myself on fire
torch bridges, burn with desire
you know i won't say

i can't follow
i'll never come back

i put myself to bed
with this aching in my chest
and bones and my head

so hollow
we'll never go back

oh filthy water under the bridge in my city
drown the ocean of tears that falls into you tonight
oh filthy water under the bridge, wash over me
now we know there's no fear when we close our eyes

oh filthy water under the bridge in my city
drown the ocean of tears that falls into you tonight
oh filthy water under the bridge, wash over me
now we know there's no fear when we say goodbye

you are a cyclone.

wind blows down the river
cedar's limbs lie in the road
your lips are pursed in whisper
we dreamed these neon tornadoes

when we wake we are in pieces
morning, she has me by the throat
oh, we can't say we're leaving
you tell me just leave it alone

and all the time we fight
all the love we don't give out
and all the time you're right
we don't make a sound
it's quiet in this house

now we see in colour
this luminescent view
we don't need to fear each other
but i feel the ghost in you

and all the time we fight
all the love we don't give out
and all the time you're right
we don't make a sound

all the time we fight
all the love we don't give out
all the time you're right
we don't scream and shout
it's quiet in this house

Sunday, March 25, 2012

"i want to take care of you"

i want to take care of you, too.

i want to tell you how you make me feel, but all around me, everything is doing it better than i ever could.

the sky is writing my love for you in sunrises; the trees are bursting with feeling, sending forth thousands of little tiny shoots that (given water, sunshine and attention) will grow into intricate perfection, reaching for the light. grey clouds spend two days pouring their hearts out onto the impatient earth, anxious for that moment when ground and sky inextricably become one, and there is release. there is peace.

time for sleep.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

late night rambling; thoughts on authenticity.

Your only obligation in any lifetime is to be true to yourself. -- Richard Bach

Authenticity.

What does that word even mean?

When we begin traversing down the rabbit hole, in search of our "authentic self," oftentimes we come up with more questions, more ways in which we are the "mask" self, rather than the authentic, or Higher Self.

Pathwork defines three states of being: Lower Self, Mask Self, Higher Self. The lectures state that it is far better to be in the Lower Self, because it is more honest and authentic than the Mask, running less risk of us buying into that being who we actually are. When we spend too much time in the Mask, we forget that we are someone different underneath, someone apart from all of our imposed/obligatory responses. I think Great Lake Swimmers defined this state best when they said, "And we live in our actions and our reactions."

The notion of living from a place of authenticity is something I've been working with, on and off, for years. Being a mother, lover/ex-lover, daughter, sister, family member, yoga teacher, reiki master, musician/performer, and pretty much anything else I do in my life, seems to require me to have a specific role. This makes me feel unsatisfied, like I only gain approval if I do what others want. I'm very good at being good - but sometimes all the people pleasing makes moving forward impossible, especially when I'm attempting to appease two people with opposing viewpoints.

Stopping there, I remember a quote from teacher training, "We are not responsible for anyone else's experience of life but our own." (Save for children, of course -- but we're talking adults, here.) I have felt that I was in a precarious position due to this divorce, and not having been prepared for it. I have walked on eggshells in effort to keep the peace, more often than I've healthily and necessarily defined my boundaries. And that's not okay. I feel a pain in my solar plexus, a revolt in my heart, because I know I am not being true to myself.

Recently, I had to make a decision, which entailed heavy consideration of two parties' feelings (both having a vested interest in opposing outcomes) - this was a good lesson for me. I realized that I have to make decisions based on how I feel/what I want, rather than trying to please people. I am not very good at knowing what I want, or feeling okay getting it. For some reason, the idea of being seen as selfish frightens me - so I give and give and give until I can't give anymore, and then I become selfish out of necessity. I acknowledge this pattern and release it, giving myself permission to be not selfish, but Self-ish, recognizing the importance of self-love and putting it into action. Since I enjoy giving and sharing with others, I realize that I better serve others if my own needs are met - how does one share from an empty cup?

"I love and approve of myself. It is safe to live my truth openly and honestly." This has been on my bathroom mirror for weeks, and I look at it, but how often do I employ it, truly live it? Without judgment, I am bringing awareness to that, and intend to live my life from a place of lovingkindness (maitreya/maitri) rather than fear-based perspective (what will so-and-so think/do if i think/do this, or don't?).

When I take a moment to sit in my heart, meditate on it, I find you there. When I peel away the layers, take off the mask -- I am aware of the fear of being vulnerable/rejected, but I recognize the fear is there because there are places where I am rejecting myself. I now give myself permission to call all of the broken pieces, all of the shadows, back home. I also give myself permission to allow this to be a gentle, unfolding process, rather than the overwhelming fallout that I'm usually accustomed to when I make this sort of affirmation. Please, Universe, don't overwhelm me just because you want to show me I'm capable of more -- you've impressed that lesson upon me enough over the past few/26 years, can I rest yet? :)

I am so grateful for all the circumstances and experiences of my life - perceived "good" or "bad" -- they've all served me well. I could not love the way I do if I hadn't experienced "not-love" -- and again, "not-love" is merely an opinion/judgment. Who's to say that it wasn't love, in the best way that person knew how, in the moment? Just like God, Love has many names. We all speak different love languages - it's important to listen, to become fluent in your own love language, to know what speaks to YOU, so you can take care of yourself and also effectively communicate it to your lover, and conversely, understand what makes their hearts move, too.

Enough for now - time for sleep. Rest comes easy when the mind is empty and the heart is light. x

Saturday, January 14, 2012

wide awake and.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”
― Hermann Hesse

In the stillness of early morning, when all is quiet save for the soft sounds of deep sleep, punctuating the heavy silence; this, this is where I am found.

I am not lost, though my mind is uncertain; I am sure my feet are planted in the earth of my soul, and all I must do is place one foot in front of the other. Keep on.

At this time in my life, I find myself feeling more unsure than I remember ever being. There's a stale taste in my mouth, an ache in my heart - I know I'm learning big lessons right now, and I'm close to feeling grounded about all of this. I guess all I can do is continue to ask for Divine guidance and trust.

Somehow, though, there's a glacial calm that permeates the chaos; a cool force amidst the fire. I am learning. I must be gentle with myself. I am in the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing. I must strive for more observation and less judgment of myself.

Tomorrow's a new day. The next moment is a new moment. How fortunate we are to be able to begin and renew our practice at any time. How lucky we are, truly, if we remember.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

wolf willow

you came from a land of snow and ice
of wheat and wonder, prairie skies
barren land, heart attack, hold time

out of the earth, blistering shoots
fumbling branches, singing roots
strong hands, homeland, be mine

and our bodies, harvested for firewood
i guess that we were only born to burn

you grew so fast, you stretched so tall
did you retain what it meant to feel small?
deliverance, inconsequence, we tried

and finally, the winter won
the seasons changed before we could run
oh, silence, stillness knows no sides

and when i die i wish to be laid to rest beneath the seeds
my body's sighs begin to leak this bated breath to silver leaves
we grow we grow we grow we go oh

Friday, August 5, 2011

there's a light

calm down.

video

haunt me in the morning
insight, you never left
it's like i never slept
at all
you're gone and i'm here wanting
lit wires will your breath
still fire for innocence
you call
there's a light
calm down
could we ever really belong
unconscious tides insist
this hunger's what we've missed
before
remember when we were young
slip ire for limbic bliss
still night for lips like this
i'm yours