Walking around the pond
The windy ripples on the water
Inform me
Reconnecting my breath and bone
Returning to Self
I sometimes say- I love you Sally.
Today as I rounded the bend
A group of geese launched off the shore
And in their midst were
Five tiny goslings- their fist swim.
“Swim said the mother-
We swim said the five
So they swam all day, newly alive.”
Bending low – I plant spinach seed while
The birds flutter at the feeder
Swaying the seed, spring-drunk
( aren’t we all?)
But what about the cosmic-seed planted
In our collective wombs,
That bright seed of love
That we are duty bound to cherish
And protect.
That’s the seed we want to acknowledge
Parent and Repeat.
The elder estate lawyer who heard me out
Suggested an “irrevocable trust”
And in the long ensuing conversation
With my “spouse”
We have gotten to our core function/ dysfunction
Trust…..
Trust is a non- egoic principle
A spacious walk in the park
No clutching or holding back
Just a big open smiling heart
That says Yes- I am safe with you.
What a rare accomplishment-
The true meaning of success
Irrevocably trusting- the future.
The moon lite the room- then dawn
On this Easter Morning,
I feel my inner rabbit….
She who hops in the places of the in- between.
A shaman with a basket of eggs…
“No need to hold back from your personal glory”
She says to the bunny
“This world is the stuff of dreams.”
So push off with your strong legs
The unknown is not meant to be known.
“Don’t fall for the trap of a lesser life.”
Honey is the better bet and I promise to deliver
But there is a difficulty in paradise ….
We love our absolutes- our particular concept of God
And the myriad other beliefs we cling to-
Giving full authority to our questionable minds.
“We are so sure we are right”
Not seeing that our thoughts are built on assumptions
That are too deep to know that they are even there.
But what to do?
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Eat the honey of not knowing
Suspend- knowing- even just a little
Owning that ours is a conditioned mind
Righteously saying, “the evil is over there”
So beware of the drunken shadow of absolutes
We can not make ourselves safe here…
It’s a rough ride on the wings of bees
Hello flowers.
“Let the images speak for themselves”, she suggested
And for some reason these words opened my heart and – I sobbed
At the recognition of my profound friendship
With the animacy of my art- the living being
Called Painting
Jumping realms to be with me- Painting has
Advanced my weary soul, sipping the living water
I stand before you, not alone-
Amazed and a bit transcendent
Animacy takes the lid off.
The bow is stretched – the hand poised for action
It’s “we” two that make the painting
Art comes through us into the world.
And to see me through the tenuous gate
And I felt the animacy of my art
“Be Yourself” says the unicorn on her shirt
Nudging us forward with her spiraled horn-
The magical kingdom – the one hidden in plain site
The honeyed land- the feminine journey.
The integrity of Self.
Our potent, magically, insightful, delightful
Creative, knowledgeable, wise, dynamic
Intuitive, artistic, earth-bound human like trees
Faithful ( to ourselves first)
Unique, smart, funny, charming, clever.
Hand user, washer woman,
Daughter, Sister, Mother, Grandmother, Aunt
Freedom Fighter, Ship’s Navigator, Astronaut.
Happy International Women’s Day!
Emptying is occurring naturally
The no self has appeared as I prepare for battle
I have something to say and words have left me,
Thank goodness.. in this moment of
Asking for more- related energy
Perhaps I will just nod
Or hum of our connection, our history, our bond.
Changes in the field are often painful
But a shared acknowledgment
Heals the frayed heart
Wish me luck. I feel brave and open and true.
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I sent this photo of my garden to a gardener friend
She said, “An interesting challenge”
The wizard asked the dragon to spread her wisdom
In places of entrenched misery and war
Places of ” power over “instead of “power with”.
The old mythology has stubborn roots but will not prevail
Each of us have to believe in our personal light
The importance of it- that we matter in ways we can’t understand.
The she dragon rests briefly now at the banks of my river
Like light on the water …I am.
The infinite truth instantly known.
In this right brain drawing exercise-
Choose an object to draw
I chose a cup….really staring at it
In a Contour Line Drawing way-
The eye moving slowly as does the hand
And at the same time
Bring to my mind- a personal problem
And see what is revealed by the Right Brain.
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My eye loved the dark void-
The empty space of the cup’s center
Comforted too by it’s outer form- so solid.
The Yin and the Yang….
But for now-I lean toward the void.
Drawing as a kind of fortune telling..
The luxury of personal insight- it’s free.
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In contour line drawing-
You stive to really see- so while staring at a object
You allow your pencil to form the line that your eye is seeing
You are not to look at your paper while your pencil is moving.
And the slower you go – the better.
her soup pot 