beached

rough shell, 

grit and sand surround you
smooth, center, soft and inviting 

singing the oceans song through your fixed throat

stars illumine the heart of you 

galaxies contained in your depth
easy to overlook in your ordinary crusted cape
yet so quick to yield your intrinsic beauty with
minimal manipulation by my hands
we are similar 

you and I

both of static and waiting; 

what we posses inside is 

secreted and silent

i will be my own hand and 

Turn This Beauty Inside Out
I will pluck myself from the sea 

I will radiate the cosmos that made me
It will light my way into remembrance
I am always home and 

I am made of stars

Parenting

parenting
parenting is not for wimps
she said with a smile that
was conspiratorial in nature

parenting
has moved me to scream
find myself curled in the
corner, a shell

parenting
has brought me joy
the tears of first flesh
warm in my arms

parenting
is the road i travel
intertwined, destined
until death

parenting
i am
parenting

Vortex

Well, today has been a bust.  

Rise to the surface, take a breath and feel the sun on our faces only to be pulled down by the whirlpool of drama that stems from so much in this family.  The line that demarcates where to push and where to yield is more of a broken path of breadcrumbs than a definitive line.  This ambiguity brings with it so much pain, fear and tears.  

Couched in the many layers of culture, familial upbringing, historical interaction and disappointment; the smallest disagreement can and often does spin into a vortex of dissension and upheaval.  So, here I sit with a post-emotive hangover with a household suspended in inaction.

Pull

pull

gravity, they say, is

the power that intuits the

growth of all things green,

the power that brings

my skin, my bones

to a place of quiet rest

gravity is a lesson

to be learned;

the moment when

one realizes that

omnipotent forces exist

waiting to be met

my son with his

splintered bones

like old wood,

has come to know

the meaning behind

this lesson

has lost the notions

that flight is possible

and that the ground

is soft and yielding

like my lap

this metamorphosis

is more that osteocytes

meeting and re-connecting

his world has shifted - physics 101

to take from him

this moment

would be liberating for me

yet he has chosen to

meet the world

hands down

teeth

today it is some teeth.

life is like that
parts of us being taken
away at intervals

there will be days,
days of loss that
(corporal or not)
will leave a space
an ache, a phantom pain -

life takes its measure
and its token
for the privilege of
walking the road
of one's own desire

teeth; skin to asphalt,
emotional investment,
heartache, accidents,
the dull ache of an empty womb.
Death.

these
are the spaces
where the light
can get in

without loss
there
is
no
light

Leaves

winding round
the bend and back
to where I stand
glazed eyes
scanning

the sun finds its
way through the trees
the leaves return 
themselves 
to the
earth


i stand, alone
connected to
something for
which i have 
no words

no words

just an ache
an unshed tear;
a longing
hopeful
that i will 
find my way
like the sun 

and the leaves

 

inevitable

Inevitable

When i wake,

the cool dry tiles

tell my feet it's morning

long after my eyes open

to the darkness of predawn

thought patterns in flux

from scattered phantoms of

lost night visions

mixed with start up and

download of today's

version of to-do

breathe and wait

breathe and wait

let the day come as it may

as it will, it is inevitable

there is no levy for life

be still and wait

breathe and allow a

place of stillness to form

that guides me to my

next rest as I enter the day

Let's go

I Promise

A New Year's Promise

Each step, tentative and unsure
limping into a year full of hope
casting off the disappointments
the hurts and the self-condemnation

waking up to fresh start,
hope has not been beaten out 
of this being as it treads the path
of this mortal coil

I promise to turn my face
up to the sun

I promise to clear my vision
of the cataracts of short sightedness

I promise to lighten my load first
then cast a hand back to others

I promise to breathe each breath
fully, letting them heal me in succession

I promise to speak to myself as a 
dear friend in trouble

I promise to caress my tender heart
with the hands of love

I promise to allow floundering as 
I learn to swim this life

I promise to forgive, for these promises
will ebb and flow like the sea.

blank

blank

nothing to celebrate here.

wide open desolate spaces

interchangeable for tundra, 

desert valley or deep ocean floor

raw and barren

nothing to reach for, 

high and beyond the inner

and outer cacophony of misery

where is the dove that flew?

no branch on this olive tree

that stands alone, 

bent and broken 

from the weight of woe

gutted

hollow



hollow like
a reed whistling
from the crosswind
as it roves across the swamp

hollow
hollow like
a china doll
cracked with age and empty
when her chest is tapped

hollow
hollow like
a galaxy empty
of air and noise and wind
no sound in or out

second skin

 

 

 

cicada 

what was once whole,
confined to irreplaceable -
an identity honed 
in the fire of tumult

crumbling carapaces of 
incoherent ramblings
rest about, strewn and
cast aside, like refuse

now, like once bronzed
skin, thin sheets cast off.
end of summer molting,
readying itself for winter

gone are days of sun touched,
wind swept, salt encrusted
moments, bare and brazen
into now she saunters

Bones

 

 

 

 

Bones

I am fascinated with the

idea, texture, lightness,

of cold, dry, bones;

bleached white and clean

bare of all semblance

of what once was,

of what gave them

motion and drive.

emptied of this flesh,

these scaffolds are free 

to shimmer in the sun, 

burnished and bright.

Pale

Pale

an unassimilated life lays out

ghost pale and transparent 

before me, like a specter

i can wave my hand through

so far away i do sit, aside

and askew from the activity

and bustle of those that 

lay claim to me and mine

this calm, it frightens me

oh, to have my heart quicken,

to feel the hair on my arms rise

in response to connection

rather, i sit deep in the pool

of numb quietude,

waiting for someone to

throw me a line

I turned it off today

 

I turned it off today

my addictions to media,
to nicotine and alcohol
are sad little commas,
pauses in my life

i live still and clear
behind facades of 
lonely, inside social.
connected inside alone

i am tired 
of all this and that.
comings and goings
no where to be

in this moment
i decide, yet
i tremble at the
idea of real

the velveteen 
rabbit with carrots
to spare. i crouch
and wait

Bones

Bones

On the cool blown shore of white rocks at dawn,

By prattling water clear, fresh and thin,

Rests the lone one who tarried on and on.

Clothed blanched bones, wrapped in worn and battered skin.

From sky, the sounds of prey birds make their cry.

On the withering shape below, they sight

This world torn form wracked from a life gone by.

Too numb to be brought to life by fright.

And then down to feast, these birds do glide

To peck the tender parts that lie within.

And with the shell cast, what remains inside

Is quicksilver and bright, and purged of sin.

Loose, freed to rise, roaming wild beauty.

Shattering out in perpetuity.

To dance...to dream

Ballet

Today marked the first ballet class that I have taken in I don't know how long.  Granted, the last time I went was just for a few classes so I didn't learn much.  Ballet is one of the things in my life that I wanted to do when I was younger, yet didn't.  My body is run down and tired. My joints are stiff and inflexible due to lack of activity. Needless to say, today's class was difficult.  I feel pretty good about  how I did - I tried my damnedest to stay out of my head and just be aware of my body.  This was and is really challenging for me. I compare myself to others constantly.  I want to look like I know what I am doing at times.  Cherie calls this the something or other - I don't remember.  All I know is that the end result of these mental machinations is me feeling better than or less than.  either way - I don't feel good.  

Get off my island

Writing

Writing to write because this is a commitment I made to myself.  The last 2 days have been hell on earth.  Son #3 has stolen and lied about it.  grounded to room.  then used son #2's lap top to "listen to spotify" and when I checked the history - yep, he'd been on YT etc.  It's not the poor decision making that bugs me as much as the lying.  He's super oppositional and when I hear him and see him acting out he reminds me of myself as a kid.  Scary.  Super scary.  DH is a concert tonight (he brought a friend of ours) and I'm not on that date because I am policing son #3 - who earned another day/night in his room after lying about the computer last night.  Add to that a shitty day at work, a sore throat, 8 hrs of sleep in the last 2 nights and I am DONE.

Today is a fuck my life kinda day.  I feel ill equipped to deal with the machinations and complexities of my life - I just want to bug out.  Backpack, credit card, passport and go.  Alone.

I'll just kick these people straight off this island and take it for myself.  No shit.

Sounds

Sounds

My life is a series of sounds:

crying out in pain, looking for the remote,

where are my ...

I am looking for the fine line

of silence,

so that I may find

myself.

Like a first date;

kissing for the first time.

The anticipation

of what is to come...next.

Where do i find

this;

this deafening sound

of unknown territories

When do I have

the space,

free-time,

for me

When I make it.

When it becomes

more important,

than the location of a lost sock.

Enter the forest

Add caption

 

 “You enter the forest
at the darkest point,
where there is no path.

Where there is a way or path,
it is someone else’s path.

You are not on your own path.

If you follow someone else’s way,
you are not going to realize
your potential.”

― Joseph Campbell

 

 

 

After much deliberation and some not-so-gentle prodding from The Universe, I've made myself vulnerable, open and ready and will be working with the life coach with whom I spoke on Wednesday.

Whoa. 

We had a wonderful first meeting - I have never had a problem with self-disclosure yet I found myself moving deeper into what feels like the true me. Now, this is a part of myself that I have very little experience with. Well, maybe I have more experience with her than I let myself take credit for.  She was there when I birthed my children and held them in my arms, she was there when my father died, she was there last night while I lay in the arms of my husband. I told Cherie that my wish and deepest was not to continue to exist as a shadow of myself.  

Last summer I went to a solstice celebration at Guru Ram Das Puri in New Mexico.  As I was introducing myself to my partner for white tantric I realized that I was giving her labels; I wasn't giving her me. 

Let's see, here are some of the ways that I have identified myself:

mom, wife, ICU Nurse, ER Nurse, student, yoga teacher, a student of yoga, sacred geometry, metaphysics, a one time recovering alcoholic and addict, a person in therapy, arm candy, a hippie, a goth, an artist, a person who has lived on a commune, a runaway, a high school dropout, an outsider, a rebel, a surfer, a poet, a painter, a person on the path, a homebirther, an attachment parent, a vegan, a vegetarian, a paleo, a runner, a cyclist, a revolutionary communist, a democrat, a chef, a student pilot, a person who has soloed in an airplane, a whore, a misfit, a retail store manager, a want to be gardener, a student herbalist, a student doula, a person in service, a follower, a leader, a wantobe rockclimber, a reluctant naturalist, a mountainbiker, an avid reader, a book hoarder, a control freak, OCD, ADD, depressed, empty....

It's interesting to me to write this list.  I've had so many experiences.  

I'm looking for my own path - the big question is how do I integrate all the changes that have occurred inside me due to these experiences? Who is in the middle of this?

Missing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Missing

I am missing

like a sock

i am missing

like the cap 

for the toothpaste

Somewhere 

there is a place

where all the 

pieces

are hiding