life: acoustic & amplified
poetry, quotes & thoughts about life
Archive for the category “Alone”
a morning glimpse
All human beings are alone. No other person will completely feel like we do, think like we do, act like we do. Each of us is unique, and our aloneness is the other side of our uniqueness. The question is whether we let our aloneness become loneliness or whether we allow it to lead us into solitude. Loneliness is painful; solitude is peaceful. Loneliness makes us cling to others in desperation; solitude allows us to respect others in their uniqueness and create community.
Letting our aloneness grow into solitude and not into loneliness is a lifelong struggle. It requires conscious choices about whom to be with, what to study, how to pray, and when to ask for counsel. But wise choices will help us to find the solitude where our hearts can grow in love.
waking up alone.
i try to think when i last had
this gift of solitude.
just me
the house quiet.
creating my morning
looking forward to the coming hours
with myself.
don’t know if i’ve ever had quite this
feeling
in the past 48 years.
it’s not my space.
i’m still surrounded
by the energy,
the possessions of another,
but i get a tiny foretaste
of what my home will be
when I finally get there.
i luxuriate in the promise
of this morning.
this slice of freedom
expanding my joy
in my homecoming to be.
i take off all the expectations
and do a little reveling,
soul dancing,
exhale and let a little out.
inhale take a little in.
relax and allow the guard to come down just a bit.
i’m not there yet,
but I’m the closest I’ve ever been.
this moment is a gift.
i can almost smell the soup simmering on my stove top,
the pie in the oven.
i can almost hear the laughter of friends,
maybe even family, around the table.
i can almost touch the softness of the fabrics,
the rich colors,
the art on the walls.
i can almost see the warm light of the fire on the hearth,
already blazing in my heart.
it’s right around the next bend,
the little place
waiting with arms wide open,
saying,
welcome home, beloved,
come on in
and let your hair down –
so glad you’re finally here.
AL 1/19/14
ahhhh, the warmth of presence
Yes, these days come, too:
gray, banal, post-epiphany,
the child in hiding,
the gold spent,
the myrrh lost on the way to Egypt,
the wise men long gone
to a country too far to hail,
the wailing over but
the sadness not,
the road leading
nowhere in particular,
starless.
Remember
it was often this way,
the star lost in fog,
the road drifted over
by weariness.
Still, something led you on.
Someone walked in you
those miles, bore your heart
deep in their robes,
safe from the swirling,
deadening sands.
That is how you have come
to this dreary day.
The promise is not glory,
not certainty, but presence.
This gray
is the inside of God’s robes,
bearing you,
without your guiding,
by another road.
________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net
Having faith on a starless night will lead us to the place where the morning star is born.
I part the out thrusting branches
And come in beneath the blessed and the blessing trees.
Though I am silent
There is singing around me.
Though I am dark
There is vision around me.
Though I am heavy
There is flight around me.
– Wendell Berry
—-
I am heavy
Stepping with sand bag feet
Slow
Hello life
In this dark day
I look for beauty
It’s always there
I wonder if I would have jumped or gone back to die
If I had really known how hard it would be
On and on
Do I really believe it will ever get better?
No answer comes
I move away from the question
I made my choice
I go curl up
In the Legacy Garden
On the round plaque with Wendell Berry’s words of understanding
Underneath the gondola’s painted ever-green leaves
– There should be a raven
Who cares if someone sees me?
AL 12/3/12
A year
It’s been a year since that day
When I ran out of light,
ran out of being able to choose.
I arrived inside the pitch black –
The dark night of the soul,
as I have read it called since.
That day I lay on Wendell Berry’s words,
unable to see, or seek, hope,
I surrendered –
Into Thy hands I commit my spirit.
The words branded themselves on my soul.
A few months later I found more words from Wendall Berry about darkness. (See graphic below)
I cried and grieved,
absorbed huge, long-standing grief-icebergs.
I have thought, and sought,
to understand the events of that day
for the past year –
It has definitely change the chemistry,
even the very shape of my soul.
The easiest, yet still complicated, way to describe it is,
That day the seed went into the ground –
and died.
As I cross the year mark,
I do feel a few young sprouts of new life.
Green tender life
stirring,
beginning to push through towards sunlight.
Very young and shy.
The old husk still sits under 12 inches of dirt
Dead
Split open
Burned to ash
composting back into the soil
Some days the wind blows in the wrong direction
and the smell can be overwhelming.
That day, a year ago now,
God picked me up
and placed me tenderly in His boat.
(Yes, God was there.
As well as angels
and screaming demons)
There I remain –
and will.
Unless I am called out,
by Jesus,
to walk on the water
with him by my side.
I am His alone.
Now I truly understand the words
Of Paul the Apostle,
For me to live is Christ
to die is gain.
AL 12/03/13
In the beginning…the earth was a formless void
and darkness covered the face of the deep.
God breathed deeply over the face of the waters.
Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light.
—Genesis 1.1-3
By the tender mercies of our God,
the dawn will rise upon us from above,
to give light to those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the ways of peace.
— Luke 1.78-79
It is now the moment for you to wake from sleep.
For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers;
the night is far gone, the day is near.
Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.
— Romans 13.11-12
In the darkness, in the chaos, God whispers.
The light of new creation rises slowly.
The dawn of a new world blossoms, rising silently
throughout the universe, and within you.
Your soul is the color of the sky before the dawn.
God is coming in a new way.
Open yourself.
Let the light unfold in you.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net
Today is a new day. I will rejoice and be glad I am still here.
I’ll be the one hootin’ over here…
The man who doesn’t relax and hoot a few hoots voluntarily, now and then, is in great danger of hooting hoots and standing on his head for the edification of the pathologist and trained nurse, a little later on. – Elbert Hubbard
Yup, I’m in relax mode for a few days. I am at the end of caregiving – my patients are both safely where they need to be 
to get better. I will be moving forward into a new space very soon. On Friday, when the 83 year old dementia patient was safely on her way to a nursing facility, I was able to take a breath. I knew I needed a distraction so I went to the movies and saw Thor. Very entertaining, but I got rather overwhelmed and ‘dropped’ in the middle of it. I stopped at Carrabba’s, for a take home bowl of lovely sausage lentil soup and a piece of tiramisu, to celebrate.
I ate and went to bed. Not to sleep immediately, just to pray, to allow all the myriad of emotions to come and go, to think abstract thoughts, to allow tears to flow (as needed). As I sink into this release, and let go of the fight, the responsibility and preparation for death that was a very real threat. The people I was caretaking for are not my family, so everything has been more complicated and it has been a boundary line I have had to be very aware of and that has added even more tension.
Yesterday I basically did nothing. I sat and stared at trees for hours. I did a little painting. Laid in bed and did the same ritual as the night before. I ate because I needed to, not because I was hungry. I drank lots of water.
I carry all my tension in my shoulders and have had issues with my sciatica since my last pregnancy, in 1991/92. I am in much pain from those as I begin to decompress and relax from these past months of stress.
Today I’m going to church and then I have no plans, I may end up repeating yesterday. I may actually do some hootin’ and hollarin’ – I’m prepared and ready to do that, when that comes. I remember many years ago getting a traffic ticket that one of the very worst moments in my life and, after the officer had gone, I sat and screamed (yes, as-loud-as-I-could-blood-curdling screams) for at least 30 minutes, maybe more. I felt much better after and I have no problem doing it again when I need to!
I am sharing this, because there are many people carrying these loads and bags of caregiving. In some ways, I believe it is really harder to be a caregiver than to be the patient. The caregiver carries it all, has to handle everything, is also unable to move into a normal role with life. Caregivers watch people they care about devolve and grow weaker and they are pretty much helpless. Many times the patient feels they are better off than they truly are, or they become so depressed they cannot help themselves any longer. The caregiver walks a tightrope between caring and not becoming an enabler. It is very tricky, draining, difficult (to say the least) and takes a rough and rugged toll every day it lasts.
I am so grateful I have experienced this – I pray my time here learning will help others. I pray today that all the amazing caregivers to have moments of respite and be able to relax for life giving moments. Don’t ask for permission!!! You need this! Self care is not about being selfish – know the difference. Do some hootin’ and laugh out loud! Take a deep breath – I know how much you need it and hard that is some days!
the first state of beautiful is upheaval – Ken Gire
All nature’s wildness tells the same story: the shocks and outbursts of earthquakes, volcanoes, geysers, roaring, thundering waves and floods, the silent uprush of sap in plants, storms of every sort, each and all, are the orderly, beauty-making love-beats of Nature’s heart. – John Muir
find your green canoe…
Green Canoe
by Jeffrey Harrison
I don’t often get the chance any longer
to go out alone in the green canoe
and, lying in the bottom of the boat,
just drift where the breeze takes me,
down to the other end of the lake
or into some cove without my knowing
because I can’t see anything over
the gunwales but sky as I lie there,
feeling the ribs of the boat as my own,
this floating pod with a body inside it …
also a mind, that drifts among clouds
and the sounds that carry over water—
a flutter of birdsong, a screen door
slamming shut—as well as the usual stuff
that clutters it, but slowed down, opened up,
like the fluff of milkweed tugged
from its husk and floating over the lake,
to be mistaken for mayflies at dusk
by feeding trout, or be carried away
to a place where the seeds might sprout.
http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/
there’s a voice that doesn’t use words. listen. – Rumi
Infinite Presence, The Beloved, speaks,
draws the universe near with a quiet word.
Out of the heart of all things, their mysterious beauty,
the Divine radiates.
This silence is not silent,
in which God comes to us,
arrayed in the consuming flame of suns,
clothed in stormy seas of galaxies.
God summons the whole created order
to witness us hearing her voice:
“If you are in love with me,
come near.”
Creation nods, and smiles.
This is the Truth, the Source, The One.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
life: acoustic & amplified 