poetry thursdays

My plan was to post this much earlier...but I spent the evening at an urgent care center at the hospital with my husband. He is fine. Still, some scary moments...He is fine. He had to have a CAT scan. He is fine. I appreciate the kindess of doctors and nurses on an evening like tonight. A thank you from my heart to those of you who take care of others in this way.

I have a new idea. Poetry Thursdays.
An invitation to read a new poem or an old favorite.
An invitation to take the poem with you to the bathtub to have your own poetry reading.
An invitation to rediscover a poem that you love and share it with others.
An invitation to write a poem. Yes, you. Write. A. Poem.
An invitation to look at the world from another's perspective.
An invitation to let words resonate within you.

And I plan to extend this invitation through sharing a different poem each week. One I have discovered on this journey into poetry that I find myself on this year.

I read this one out loud to jonny tonight as we were waiting for the doctor to come back to tell us the plan...

Many Miles

The feet of the heron,
under those bamboo stems,
hold the blue body,
the great beak

above the shallows
of the pond.
Who could guess
their patience?

Sometimes the toes
shake, like worms.
What fish
could resist?

Or think of the cricket,
his green hooks
climbing the blade of grass-
or think of camel feet

like ear muffs,
striding over the sand-
or think of your own
slapping along the highway,

a long life,
many miles.
To each of us comes
the body gift.

- Mary Oliver

now.

I love the question Alexandra has asked: what do you know that you don't want to know?
And I realize. I want to know it all. Even the shit. (yes I just put that word out into the universe)
There are moments when I think "why me? why is this happening? this was not at all what I imagined or hoped for or dreamed of." Yet, it is clear that this is how it was supposed to be. Because now I am here. Armed with all of this knowledge, experience, and the realization that the tools to deal with the shit have been in me all along. I know I will forget this over and over again. This is how it works. I believe the big lessons in our life exist on a timeline and sometimes we get caught up in a loop of the lesson. I suppose that there are times that this loop could last a lifetime...but I think of it like this: You move along and then something trips you up, so you are caught up in the loop of the lesson. You loop around and around for a while...then you eventually learn this piece of the lesson and continue on again. Until you trip. Then another loop and so on. The funny thing is that even when you realize this, you still trip. Even when you are in the loop, you can't or don't get off. Even when you know you are in the midst of a lesson, it is still hard to learn. But you have the tools inside you to help the upsidedown world of spinning in the loop seem a little more rightsideup.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like me. Alive. Awake. I don't want to go to sleep and miss my life. I don't want to look back and think, "why didn't I do something?" And so I want to do something with all the lessons. I am figuring out what that is...but I know that I want to do something.

Again, I'm within my self.
I walked away, but here I come sailing back,
feet in the air, upsidedown,
as a saint when he opens his eyes
from prayer: Now. The room,
the tablecloth, familiar faces.
- Rumi

{SPT} the me before i feel

Before I feel
Before I talk with anyone
Before I clear my head
or wipe the sleep from my eyes
and the dried drool from the corner of my mouth

Before I breathe in and out with intention
Before I stretch my back in cobra pose
Before I take a shower
or put on my clothes
and paint my face and brush my hair

Before I energize my body with food
Before I check my email
Before I start my work
or organize my schedule
and begin to read the words written by others

I walk out to the living room
Sit down at the table
And take this picture

I breathe in vulnerability
and exhale self-acceptance

This is me
The me before I begin to feel
Before I remember who I am

All I ask is that if you encounter this me
Please be gentle
I will begin to feel soon enough

{AW} a tag

I was tagged by Blue Dog to share the following:

Four wishes, dreams, and desires
1) a trip back to maui without the worry of financial debt
2) to own a bookstore/pajama shop/coffee shop
3) to have a yoga studio above the afore-mentioned shop
4) to maybe, some day, have a child

Four imaginary lives
1) a mermaid
2) a photographer who travels around the world
3) a broadway singer/dancer
4) the first female president

Four things I should change
1) to take even better care of this temple that is my body
2) my negative self-talk
3) let go of more "stuff" - emotional, physical, material
4) love more, judge less

Four people I admire
1) SARK - her honest, creative, inspiring way.
2) my friend heather - her strength and courage. she always invites me to grow, be more than I am, and she never judges as I share my innermost demons, secrets, dreams, hopes.
3) my brother - as he follows his dream, he teaches me to let go and live more. as he searches inside himself for truth and understanding, he reminds me that i have the tools to do the same.
4) my friend juli - i trust her with my life. and i am sometimes in awe that she invites this kind of trust.

Four things i like about the artist way
1) i feel that i have permission to find this artist inside me.
2) the sense of community - so many other bloggers are out there following this same path, at least for these 12 weeks.
3) the idea that i am not alone in this hope to find a connection with myself and others.
4) artist dates. artist dates. artist dates.

Four things i still hope to get out of the artist way
1) the habit of morning pages.
2) permission to let this artist inside of me begin to create.
3) a continued sense of this community.
4) the habit of morning pages (yes, I really do want this to become a habit, so maybe, if i write it here again, it will begin to germinate into more than just a seed of an idea).

Who inspires you? What imaginary life do you wish you were living? What would you change?

senses. sangha.

{feel}
As soon as I step into the room, I sigh. Calm. Safe. Sangha. The scratchy, thick wool blanket. A tacky, sticky yoga mat. The warm embrace of others as we greet one another. Some pause as they hug. Sigh. Honor one another. Grateful to see one another. I sit on my blanket, fold my legs in front of me, and settle in for an afternoon of learning, sharing, listening. As we start our time with chanting, I feel the sound of all our voices vibrate inside me. As we begin to discuss, just discuss, inversions, my energy, the group's energy, increases. As the afternoon ends, again we embrace one another. Validation and support in the form of a hug. The knowledge that we will do this again the next day. Two days of community, learning, sharing.

{hear}
Happy voices of the group greeting one another. For many it has been a month since we have seen one another. To being the afternoon, we chant to Ganesh and honor our teachers and teachers' teachers. People begin to check-in. I hear their truth. They share with such honesty and integrity in their voices. Tears. Laughter. Tears again. Validation. Affirmation. The calm, wise voice of our teacher. Her infectious laughter. She shares her knowledge without attachment, inviting questions, conversation. We study inversions. Changing your perspective by literally turning yourself upside down. An excited voice says something like, "did anyone else just love headstands as a kid? I would watch tv standing on my head." Laughter. No one quite agreed but we could all relate to the child-like joy. Throughout the afternoon, moments of quiet counterpose the energy, laughter, voices.

{smell}
Fresh air drifts in through the open windows. It is warm enough (read: no rain, wind, or gray sky) to have the windows open. Yes. Yes. Yes. Someone brought foil-wrapped hearts. As I bring one to my lips, the intoxicating smell of my vice, chocolate. Can I let one be enough? No. Throughout the afternoon I eat three. Later, the spicy, warm, stomach-grumbling inducing smells wafting from the kitchen of a Thai restaurant.

{taste}
The salad, my new favorite meal, that I brought for lunch. I taste dried cranberries, blue cheese, apple, lettuce, walnuts. I am eating a salad and loving it, I think to myself with a little happiness and pride. Later, the hot, rich, bitter flavor of a vanilla latte. Even later, peanut sauce, curry, rice, noodles, vegetables shared with four friends. The spices cha-cha on my tongue in the midst of conversation and laughter. The welcome clear, cleansing taste of water when the curry is a bit more than my tastebuds can handle.

{see}
On days like this, I usually focus on faces. Smile, sadness, serious eyes, frown of confusion, nodding affirmation, a wink as a joke is shared, quizzically raised eyebrows, laughter and wrinkles around the eyes. And when we study asana, I then focus on bodies. On this day, bodies in shoulder stand, head stand, supported head stand. Although I am not yet brave enough to experience these poses, I enjoy the change in perspective these poses invite in others. A new look at the world. Upside down.

{and know}
You can find a community of people, a sangha, and know that you are not alone in your journey. Take a breath and open your heart to the possibility.

{AW} an artist date, a salad quest

blogger has not been my friend this weekend...tried to post several times...so will probably post twice today.

Friday night I went on an artist date to a favorite place of mine, a grocery store called Metropolitan Market.
I walked in, grabbed a basket and began walking. I had two goals. The first was to take in the colors and textures of the market. The second, to find the ingredients to recreate a salad I had discovered the week before. I would like to eat more salad, but lettuce does not do much for me. But if the salad is easy to make and seems "gourmet," then I can do it.

Goal one: The produce section. The colors are as many as in a 96 box of Crayolas. Greens, reds, pinks, yellows, purples. The first time I walked into this store when we moved here I almost started weeping in the midst of the produce. The displays, the smells, the choices. The smooth apples, the damp, delicate lettuce, the slight bumpy texture of an orange. As I walk through the rest of the store, I try to take in which colors attract my eye. Reds, oranges, blues. Several times I wish for my camera. Let your eyes be the lens sometimes, I remind myself. And I couldn't help but wonder "would I be allowed to take pictures at a grocery store?" I can imagine myself saying to the guy mopping the floor, "I am not a spy."

Goal two: Green leaf lettuce, red bib lettuce, fresh crumpled blue cheese, fuji apples, walnuts, dried cranberries, and honey pear salad dressing. Yes, yes, yes.

another reading

The blue sky is crystal clear today.
No clouds in sight.
Which means day four of no rain dropping on my head, the house, the earth.
Millie and I went for a walk.
Breathing in the fresh, crisp, dry air.
But it is cold.
Ears-hurting cold.
So I will warm up with a bath
and another poetry reading in the tub.
I think I will start with these words by William Stafford.

Things That Happen

Sometimes before great events a person will try,
disguised, at his best, not to be a clown:
he feels, "A great event is coming, bow down."
And I, always looking for something anyway,
always bow down.

Once, later than dawn but early,
before the lines of the calendar fell,
one of those events turned an unseen corner
and came near, near, sounding before it
somethign the opposite from a leper's bell.

We were back of three mountains called
"Sisters" along the Green Lakes trail
and had crossed a ridge when that
one little puff of air touched us,
hardly felt at all.

That was the greatest event that day;
it righted all wrong.
I remember it, the way the dust moved there.
Something had come out of the ground
and moved calmly along.

No one was ahead of us, no one
in all that moon-like land.
Oh, I thought, how hard the world has tried
with its wind, its miles, its blundering
stumbling days, again and again, to find my hand.

(from Allegiance new poems by William Stafford)

solutions

problem: you both love enchiladas but each of you likes a different sauce.
solution: see above.

problem: you are intrigued by discussions of grey's anatomy but you missed the much talked about show on sunday.
solution: tune in to abc tomorrow night (9:30/8:30c) for an encore presentation and you too can find out why i wanted to pray for bailey's husband.

problem: you are busier than usual and feel discombobulated.
solution: find your breath. and breathe.

problem: you have missed several days of morning pages in your AW journey.
solution: let go of the guilt and try again tomorrow.

problem: you love chocolate more than some people in your life.
solution: eat dark chocolate. it is good for you (in small doses) and just rich enough that you don't want to eat an entire bar in one sitting.

problem: you have a very low self-image when it comes to how you look, your body, your beauty.
solution: find inspiration in this month's SPT posts.

what problems have you solved today? probably more than you realize...
I would love to hear about them.