A sacred activism. A slowing down that knows enchantment is not in short supply."
(LOST)
Lets just title this for what it is - I am a Goddess.
I am allowed to not be perfect
I am allowed to feel some things and say some things and do some things
That I am not too happy with
That I am not too proud of
Are those I seek assistance from imperfect too?
Is Kuan Yin, Durga, Kali...are they without imperfections?
I'm in the midst of falling prey to them once again
perhaps the answer is to fall pray?
The problem is I have these memories
And I keep coming back to them
Whether they were 35 years ago
or 5 minutes ago
I remember, analyze, doubt, criticize. I would make a great judge.
But what if I don't want to be a great judge.
What if I want to just melt into the earth and let my roots hug those of the trees?
What if I want to be the lotus reaching for the sun?
Can I merely exist in that radiance?
Can I remember instead my sovereignty in each moment and exist in that?
Can I shine that radiance like a lamp around an infinite circumference?
4 of 7 days this week I felt like I was trying to fit all of this feeling into a nicely packaged box.
Into sentences that made sense when I said them
Grammar, succinct, inspiring
translating my soul ink on to papers
But none of this fits into sentences
None of this can be summed up nicely
Because it is not these separate little parts
But together they make a whole
The whole of me
Goddess
Love
Sum
.
.
I love me some melancholy!
If that were in style, I would be rich.
I am even trying to make this Goddess work perfect
Not make a mess
I spilled some water today when I felt another's microgestures
in response to my cheeky response
I left it on the floor
I let my door creak
Maybe it wants to express itself too?
Laugh - it was trying to be a joke!
Oh the hard edged nuances of language.
No more planning
It's the full moon
Let me open and howl
Let me flow free
a-mid-st night
Let me see the beauty that is all around me, rest
instead of chase it around every corner, unattainable
Just as the dirt path unfolds for me
Each stone, each root took it's own path to get to the place where it rests, now
I see that it is perfect, flower
bud opens, enjoys and is enjoyed, and
falls to the ground, and yet
its nectar still lingers in the air
for the passerby to wonder, perhaps
to seek the path based on its scent
the clear yes and the clear no
how does one become clear to hear it?
all those background murmurings creating a fog
the smoke wafting into the room
the mirror reflecting it back as real, as me
It is not me, but it circles around me, saying
look at me! don't forget about me, it is I
who kept you alive
who kept you company
in those moments where you were confused
you won't be safe, should you choose not to look
not to listen
It's time.
It's time to blow it all to pieces
It really doesn't have to be that dramatic
but we like it that way, don't we?
Ok, perhaps a satire
Let's play this game.
Spin the wheel and see what number shows up
The price is right, wrong direction though
Jump! when I say so
The secret: There is no right and wrong
There's always going to be some crazy shit and some beautiful shit
What do you choose to do with the crazy shit?
What do you choose to do with the beautiful shit?
Hopefully the same thing. Breathe into your belly, Queen. Sigh into the bowers.
Wonder at the sanctity of it all, for in the end it is all
God
.
.
Play and laugh. When did I stop doing this all the time?
What are we doing anyway? we asked.
Doesn't really matter does it :)
We were having fun
We made first friends, fast friends
Can it be that simple always?
What is introduced
in this life
is not just this garden of many flowers
but these delights that sparkle at us
some sparkles catch your eye a little more than the rest
And you settle your gaze there
and before you know it
you are resting your soul
upon her laurels
The enchanting scent luring you into your lessons
your karmic twists and turns
making this life certainly color full
Then you are in it
And you forget
to play
to laugh
when the path is a little rocky
You forget
the mountaintop is not the destination
with 1.5 kids, paired with only one
the color is God's play
the light shining on the lake
the shadows of the boulders providing reprieve from
the cruel noon sun
light playing games with your eyes
shadows become light, and back again
What is real?
This in my heart
is real.
And it is
speaking.



