still seeking the sacred

august 31, the organizing continues...

september 1, a moment with millie during the football game while jonny puts together the ikea "stuff"

september 3, loving those flowers at the market and connecting with friends (and taking a break from all that shedding of the clutter)

a poetry thursday favorite poem

The Sunday before the Wednesday I was to see you
the conversation played
on a stage in my mind.
Knowing you would pretend to be irritated that
I had flown across the country unannounced
because you did not
want me to see you like this,
I would pull the chair next to your bed,
see your emaciated body,
and my hand would brush
away the hair around your face
like I did twenty-five years ago
right before I would smear Pond’s cold cream
across your nose, cheeks, and forehead.
I would tell you that I finally understood.

But then you died on Tuesday.

In their need for reason,
people said you chose to die
the Tuesday before the Wednesday I was to see you
because you knew I was coming and
you wouldn’t have
wanted me to see you like that.
Infuriated, I turned my back
on the words that meant nothing
to the open wound you left behind
that people saw as me, and
I sat in the darkness,
my throat choked with silence,
my fingertips filled with regret that I
did not brush your hair
away from your face
when I saw you on
the morning of the Thursday after the Wednesday I was to see you,
when I heard your voice say,
It isn’t me.

****

I originally shared this poem in the summer of 2006 and again here as part of Poetry Thursday, which was an online community I co-hosted. It poured out of me one day when I was processing the grief surrounding my grandmother's death and my anger at the platitudes people say. Of all the poems I wrote during my experience of Poetry Thursday, this was my favorite.

the last poetry thursday

I cried last night as I wrote my last post for Poetry Thursday. I surprised myself a bit by how deeply sad I felt as I saved and published it. This project has been more important to me than I think I even realized. Part of the reason is how connected it is to my own discovery of how much I love poetry and how I believe poetry can change a person…and the world. I know it is also connected to finding light in darkness as poets (the ones I discovered on bookstore shelves and the ones I connected with in blog world) were some of the first people to say to me, "You are not alone in the deep well of grief." So, this gift is also connected to Poetry Thursday.

I realize that I don't have to return these gifts because the project is ending. It isn't as though I will suddenly stop reading poetry or stop writing it. Of course not. I am not leaving blog world, and I will continue to connect with other bloggers who love poetry. I will continue to share my own poetry, links to other poets/poems/blogs, and thoughts about poetry here. And, I imagine I will probably find myself sharing them on Thursdays the way many of us still share Self-Portrait Challenge photos on Tuesdays. I suppose I must admit that I will have more time for my own love affair with poetry as cohosting a site does take up quite a bit of time. But, to me, it is sad all the same.

To all of you who have participated in Poetry Thursday: Thank you for all you have shared and taught and the community you created. Please keep changing the world one poem at a time.

*****

A short poem note (or maybe it is indeed simply a short poem) on this last Poetry Thursday…

We stood until the drum of your heart, the water rolling down my back, and your hands cradling my head were all we were.

just feel.

the view from my bug, august 29

i am feeling sad this evening, but earlier today, i got out and enjoyed the sunshine on my drive to and from teaching yoga (i was subbing at a senior center - love teaching seniors!). the bright blue sky and some song i now don't remember playing as i sang along as i drove along the water and through a couple of neighborhoods i don't usually visit. i felt light and very happy.

although i don't feel that way tonight, i know that this is how it goes. and that is okay. no need to panic.

just feel.

the ups and the downs.

looking for peace among patterns

my sacred life, august 27

attempting to let go of some of the old patterns, the samscaras, of my life. examining them daily - this is who i am - and sometimes it is tiring. but, then there are the moments when i can step outside myself to realize i can stop examining and simply loosen the grip a bit and move on. let go. let something greater than me take over holding tightly for a while. realize that maybe holding on too tightly has created this groove that could become impossible to stop tracing. i do not have to hold it all up. i can take a breath. i can take a breath and allow peace to fill the maze of trenches the patterns (the ones i must let go) have created. i can (let peace in).

looking for a shift by rearranging and letting go of some of the physical things in my (our) space. looking for closeness and warmth and rooms that feel more like nests and less like storage spaces. letting go of the stuff that held significance once and now just collects dust. sending it on to be loved by someone else. looking for more peace in less clutter, more peace (between us).

being honest about what i need. what. i. need. being honest with myself first. being. honest. with. myself. (first)

letting go (trying to let go) of the invisible piles (of guilt).

finding peace in this new corner of my home where my favorite chair, my first big purchase just for me years ago, now resides. we were going to give it away, but simply rearranging has created the perfect space. it is my new corner to work and nap and read and curl up with a favorite plaid blanket. it is another little space in my home; my home: the place i spend most of my hours. it is another space where i can seek and find peace (within).

*****

see more self-portraits on the theme patterns here
visit more folks participating in my sacred life here

inspirations, august 27

this bill moyer's interview with jon stewart (i heart jon stewart)

fresh flowers on the kitchen table

dusting (yes, dusting)

letting go of stuff (in all forms)

the poetry thursday archives

the in my hand flickr group

the quiet truth in this post by alicia

begin (why am i waiting)

For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.

- Father Alfred D'Souza

clutter into order (ordered clutter?)

i was going to go on about how the house is turned up on its head as we move the clutter into chaos into order. but then, i realized this is true of where i am in all things in some ways lately. and then i knew i was too sleepy to dive into all that comes with admitting this.

take another breath.

*****

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.

- Anatole France