Going Up?

I used to love elevators. They were the epitome of the grown-up business world when I was a young teen. I had a friend who used to spend his free time palling around downtown, riding elevators in the city where we both lived.

Then I grew to love the stairs. So bracing, so energizing, so vitalizing. When I visit vertical places and walk up a lot of steep hills, I can feel and see those calf and thigh muscles growing daily. I love that.

As a kid, I used to love climbing the birch tree outside the kitchen window. My goal was to climb just a bit further than my mom would allow, so as to alarm her (but only slightly) while challenging myself (a lot). It worked every single time.

When I have walked in the hills, or climbed — I can’t really call them mountains, they’re too young — Mount So-and-So, I like the peak the best. I like standing tall, looking out over where I’ve been. I like the wide view.

Camping as a child, I loved the woods. We went there a lot. Very occasionally, we would camp at a beach instead. There, I would practice scaling the cliffs, hoping not to fall off, but to find shale and slate handholds at each step.

One of my fantasies is to ride in a hot air balloon. I don’t know why I haven’t done it yet, but there’s still time. There are entire festivals devoted to color and uplift. Would I ride in a wicker basket? With sandbags? That would make the dream complete.

And you?

Moss

Today I went for a walk in the woods. I had just received some news: A thing I loved is ending, but not yet. This will open up space and time for new things. Aha! I thought. Spring! At last, the new has arrived! The next place my eyes were drawn was a long vertical bed of moss at the base of some gnarled tree roots at the edge of a creek. “This is the pace you will follow,” was the clear signal. “Grow your practice like this.”

What do you know about moss? I love the stuff. It’s soft (often) and cozy and prolific. You think it’s all gone, then it pops up after having been covered by leaves for a long time. It needs water to grow. It is edgy. It likes liminal places and options. It is not in a rush. It takes its own sweet time. “I can do THAT,” I thought. Grow at the pace of moss. Easy does it.

When You Are Ready

When you are ready, step out.

There is nothing holding you

but old nets, they are torn,

they are nothing

as to the breeze.

***

Under your skin

lies a new self,

anchored, closely

by your kin

but yours and yours alone.

Your song, it pushes

itself up and out,

steadying on your breath,

and out it goes, entering

with fervor and challenge

on a soft exhale.

***

When it returns, it brings

awareness of new

spring crocuses, through snow.

It brings saffron-golden

sunlight to to melt

the ice encasing soil,

it brings dew

on grass blades,

which graces which?

It brings alive

you.

Today the Deer

Today the deer do not mind

when I walk through the woods.

I ask permission, May I come?

They say, Of course. You are one of us.

Other days, they startle

and run away. On rare occasions,

they approach me and we

hold each other’s gaze for a long time.

***

The owls are back. What are they bringing,

news of the world beyond the veil?

***

Woodpecker taps out a rhythm,

theirs and theirs alone. So it is.

***

When I duck my head, hawk flies.

I love you just the way you are,

she reminds. Again and again.

***

A child sees a bird. A cardinal! I say.

He repeats it, Card-i-nal, card-i-nal

in celebration. Spring comes,

and with it rain —

but not yet. Only longing so far.

All Ways a Healer

I found myself this week “trapped” in a phone call in which I was called upon to play I role that no longer comes easily to me. I resisted. I played on the edges. I bent the corners. I whistled around a while.

It worked — to an extent. There is such a big shift happening right now, across all borders, that sometimes to me now it seems there is only one way to move forward. When asked to backslide, I almost cannot.

I was able to navigate with some / sort of / enough grace, I’m sure. No harm done, in any sense — in my new measure, or the old one. But this splitting of consciousness, it’s for the birds. No more.

How to reconcile myself to the healing ways that from now on, always want to be most prominent? The best I can tell is, try humming to myself in the background. During the other thing, the thing that is “going wrong” or is acutely uncomfortable because I am being asked to reinforce a system I no longer enjoy even a little bit.

I’ll keep you posted. This one is a game, a wonderment, an unfolding start / star. I no longer am willing to inhabit certain old games, old language games, old role games, old domination scripts, no matter how cozy or “benign.” They just won’t fly. Can I still fly without them? Let’s find out. We all need the answer to this one.

I will let you know how the next time unfolds, okay?

Knight No More…

This week I gave a talk for the first time on a “new” subject — something I’ve been yearning to do for a very long time. It was well received, and I was a lot less nervous for this than for most public speaking engagements.

I had the pleasure, the day afterward (today), of discerning that the part of me that’s been the guardian / accumulator of stress in these situations — well, let’s just visualize this part of my (past) masculine energy as a knight in bright, shiny armor.

He was a bit distressed. There I was, speaking in public about all these things I’ve been holding back for so long, taking risks left and right (or so he perceived it anyway…). What would the neighbors say? What would they say indeed!’

My mother’s energy arrived ahead of the talk. She was there to cheer me on and celebrate, which was nice. In fact, she was representing a larger delegation of others. (I said: Choose one! One is enough.)

Twenty-four hours later, I came to clarity on a couple of things. One, my sense of disconnect derived in large part from my lack of connection with one particular person on the zoom call. That was palpable. Once I identified it, I could let it go. (Hint to self: Look for this solution much sooner next time.)

Two, the poor knight was ti-i-i-i-red. He is so through with defending the boundaries that no longer need to be defended. (Not saying we don’t need boundaries — just that his sense of them, and how to manage them, is no longer the style I wish to wear.)

Finally, after quite a bit of loving attention over several hours, I was able to persuade him to resign. His services are no longer needed. He can go with love. (My clue? I felt like I was holding my head in my hands…even though I knew the talk went well, there was a sense of depression I couldn’t shake. It was his. “This isn’t how we thought our life was supposed to turn out,” he was feeling. “Oh yeah? Well, so be it.”)

Much better now. Ready for some rest, and to let new energy begin to flow in.

Thanks for listening. I wonder where in your life today there may be an archetype whose service is no longer required. Listen in. See what emerges if you ask this question. Keep me posted. I want to know….

A Hair’s Breadth, and All the Difference

This week I decided to let go of a medical care situation where I was feeling emotionally “stuck.” I changed providers. Right off the bat, this decision has renewed my sense of life, hope, and energy when it comes to taking care of my body — in particular, I realized I was holding “pent-up” energy in the part of my body where I had been asking for care for a long time, and had not been receiving it. Suddenly, I am no longer left holding the old stuff, and I am newly released to take care of myself. Hurrah!

A further irony…. Turns out my unconscious, the universe, or both, offered me a unique opportunity to resolve the landscape further. Guess what? My new provider turns out to be the spouse of my previous one! We figured this out together, and while I’m not yet laughing about it, I am certainly counting my blessings, acknowledging the myriad ways in which every single strand of the web of life is connected to every other…and so on. It’s an enormous gift to be in this new place.

I’m ready to celebrate, feeling more alive down to my toes, quite literally, than I have in some time. Good news for the new year approaching, for sure. Thanks, Spirit, for engineering such a perfect “rescue” of a situation that was only off by a hair’s breadth, in a way…but that hair’s breadth can make all the difference in the world. Amen.

love, light: one song

i want to show you a few things
you might not hear otherwsie

one — your heart belongs on that sleeve
two — your voice is best chanted, toned
strummed, hummed, spread wide open
in thanksgiving with every breath
(if it gets stuck you may notice
a catch or two — simply release)

three — never put a damper on your soul
instead, shine it out like shook foil
says gerard hopkins (and we thank
him). let it bask in sunlight, glory
let it warm others just by being bright

four — when the time comes to choose,
choose pain only if it is clean
when the time comes, choose love only
when it advances, plants: when it is
goodly and generative, equal parts
sugar and sandpaper, to scour the
burnt places clear, burnish
all souls to light, streak all skies
with rainbow ribbons — that’s what it’s for,
to share and share and share alike

your light whispers in thunder
your light pats the earth, drums through rain
your light echoes, strong-voiced, every time
you anoint another’s pain

28 november 2021

the summoning

the helping ways
are legion —
lend a hand (literally)
step in
stand up, stand for —
lend a hand (take it?)
walk alongside
share an ear
drop coins in the wishing well
draw deep — then show and tell
others need to hear: make it clear
how it may feel to be standing here
write a song its living roots deep in
the soil of change
change
turn around
speak up, we gotta hear you
some good
things matter — your voice
for instance
track your eyes where are they
focused
look me in
call me in
steady me
calm the air
go deeper in
others will follow can follow
if you will only
lead —
your words break a trail —
your intentions radiate
tune them up, inside
walls fall if you dance
illusions ripple
evaporate
you are left standing
in the center
holding only a hand
it is enough
to begin the healing
it is heard in heaven
bells resound, walk in
be still and know
love is taller
your walking stick, staff steadfast, head-high
talking stick
loftier than swords
sharper, harder
than diamonds
it cuts through —
we walk through thickets
unafraid, no shame
everything opposed to love
melts in our wake
call it up call it out it begins
ends, here, now —
shake it out
the past crumbles
only feel
it is released
through your feet
Earth accepts the burden
thank Her
this mothering reanchoring
ourselves to the planet
makes abundantly clear
only every soul
resoundingly
belongs
here

26 november 2021

the visit

the house stands
tucked in a corner
unassuming —

the outside matches
its neighbors
unassuming

but when you walk
around back
you notice —

fairy touches
every where
here, here, there —

this is a garden
this is a dwelling
this is a home

light sparkles on branches
catches on rocks, stones
makes itself at home —

who lives here? almost human
a little dash of magic
here and there (and here, and there)

you might be shocked
the wilds are certain
they own the place —

and they do. when chickadee
calls, he says, you’re standing in my room
please move, please move, please —

so you shift, the light shifts
the wind shifts. smiles
play on the breeze: your home

is a resting place
is a magic circle, a dome
is a rare extra layer of home —

26 november 2021