On the day I died
water ran through pipes,
footsteps identified people in the house and
the dogs nails clicked quickly on the wood floors above my head,
insisting it was time to go out for relief.
I still needed coffee,
light with cream,
2 sugars.
The sun was bright
and I remember the sky was that deep blue,
romantically named, azurite.
There was cockscomb,
half alive in pots near the wooden footbridge I walked over.
I used to love them when I was alive.
I touched their red, velvety, blooms seeking to feel something.
I mistook fluttering angel wings for birds,
battles fought,
just beyond where I lay
on the words of Wendell Berry –
the only thread
keeping me tethered to this world.
I sat on benches beside ghosts
of those gone before me.
I could still only feel them beside me,
I was in the world between worlds.
There was darkness, a fire swamp, screaming, clashes of swords,
I could not save myself.
God was everywhere.
I found myself in a boat,
where I stayed for 2 years, until,
in recent weeks,
the call came to step out,
to start walking on water.
Late in the day,
I stood in the bathroom,
accepting the most insulting job offer I have ever received,
then sat on a stool,
trying to act as if I was alive,
pretending to look for puzzle pieces,
slightly aware of the colors and shapes,
singing echoes of songs I used to love,
with my beautiful Robin,
who seemed very much alive.
ACL 1/21/15
I
In his little boat the fisherman
floats out on a deep
mystery that provides.
His net woven of many strands
is a gathering, for gathering.
He casts it into dark waters
and hauls in light.
Not for himself
but those hungry in the village,
from the unseen he offers
sustenance.
II
The fly fisher admires the river,
runs her eyes along its surface
like her hands on fine furniture.
She sees beneath into the depths
and sees unseen the beauty flashing,
knows without knowing
the life given there.
Not with will to overpower
but adoration of the holy
she casts, she works the fly
and waits
for the communicating tug,
the splendor rising.
With this focus,
not to catch but to evoke,
not to control but to connect,
she loves people,
and seeks out the grace
flashing beneath their eyes,
the love
rising in them.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light http://www.unfoldinglight.net
Go and open the door.
Maybe outside thereās
a tree, or a wood,
a garden,
or a magic city.
Go and open the door.
Maybe a dogās rummaging.
Maybe youāll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture
of a picture.
Go and open the door.
If thereās a fog
it will clear.
Go and open the door.
Even if thereās only
the darkness ticking,
even if thereās only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.
At least
thereāll be
a draught.
The Door by Miroslav Holub, from Poems Before & After, translated from the original Czech by Ian Milner et al. (Bloodaxe Books, 2006). Text as posted on Scottish Poetry Library. http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com
Sunrise @ Branford Point, CT this fine chilly morning! My challenge was to get out of the nice, warm covers! SO worth it!! xo
In Matthew 7:7 Jesus told us to ask, seek and Knock and the door will open. It’s written as a guarantee.
Our only responsibility is to want the door to open.
25 years ago I came to that door. I raised my hand and I knocked.
I began an adventure, which is healing my life and has lead me right here. I have found that the secret to curing both my insecurity and my arrogance is to seek who God is – and I have come to be humbly aware that even my seeking is because He sought me first and the ability to want Him, somehow comes from His wanting me.
My relationship with Love (because God = Love) has steadily changed and grown, as has my awareness of the mystery, magnitude and wonder of who He is.
Along the pathway I have been granted the tiniest of mind-blowing glimpses, which are almost more than I can comprehend. They always take my breath away and I stagger when fiery glory becomes visible, as only God can reveal, because only a moment before it looked to me like another ordinary bush. These glimpses always reveal the ridiculousness of my own desire for self-importance, and free me to release any need for performance or perfection.
As I have discovered grace, I see just how little this great God needs me, or you – but, oh, how much He wants me and you! It is the desire of God to know and be known by us and He was willing to become helpless and give His very life to enter into that intimacy we call relationship. We are each His most beloved and as I began the journey of accepting myself, warts and all, as truly loved and worthy of belonging, I find I can also love you, with your warts, as I do myself.
These things blow my mind, This great love pours over me and gives me courage and passion. It allows me to share myself, my life and songs with you. I believe it is the only thing that could possibly allow someone like me to fall so deeply in love that I lay aside my personal desires, to become transparent and vulnerable, willing to endure the shame of the cross of Christ. I surrender to a plan I really can’t even understand, much less have any control over, yet know for certain is so much more valuable than I could ever even imagine!
Every day, I am surprised to find myself here. I am the most unlikely pilgrim ever, and I gratefully think about these strange things and say, along with every other person who has ever experienced this amazing love,
WHO AM I, that You would love someone like me? I am not much, but I am yours, please help me be all You have created me to be, take me, use me. Your will be done on earth as in heaven. Yes, here am I, send me.
ACL 1/14/15
God does not change, but He uses changeāto change us. He sends us on journeys that bring us to the end of ourselves. We often feel out of control, yet if we embrace His leading, we may find ourselves on the ride of our lives.
– Jen Hatmaker
The moon, half dressed,
slips out of bed with me.
Earth holds me in her palm,
each step, carries me out of the house.
First light leans easy against the trees,
lays an arm around my shoulders
and walks with me.
The air, the breath of the world,
cold and hard but willing,
wants to plunge deep into me,
and plunges. The morning,
wearing nothing but the universe,
opens her robe and wraps it around me.
The creator of all things,
the world gathered in her hands,
looks at this day and smiles
and leans a little bit forward
and says, āLet’s do this.ā
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light http://www.unfoldinglight.net
There are no words for the deepest things. Words become feeble when mystery visits and prayer moves into silence. In post-modern culture the ceaseless din of chatter has killed our acquaintance with silence. Consequently, we are stressed and anxious. Silence is a fascinating presence. Silence is shy; it is patient and never draws attention to itself. Without the presence of silence, no word could ever be said or heard. Our thoughts constantly call up new words. We become so taken with words that we barely notice the silence, but the silence is always there. The best words are born in the fecund silence that minds the mystery.
ā¦When the raft of prayer leaves the noisy streams of words and thoughts, it enters the still lake of silence. At this point, you become aware of the tranquility that lives within you. Beneath your actions, gestures, and thoughts, there is a silent tranquility.
When you pray, you visit the kind innocence of your soul. This is a pure place of unity which the noise of life can never disturb. You enter the secret temple of your deepest belonging. Only in this temple can your hungriest longing find stillness and peace. This is summed up in that lovely line from the Bible āBe still and know that I am God.ā In stillness, the silence of the divine becomes intimate.
ā¦When we pray, we pray to that space in the Divine Presence which absolutely knows us. This could be what is suggested in the New Testament when it says of our return to the invisible world: āOn that day you will know as you are known.ā
We are here essentially to risk ourselves in the world; we are a form of
invitation to others and to otherness, we are meant to hazard ourselves for the
right thing, for the right woman or the right man, for a son or a daughter, for
the right work or for a gift given against all the odds, and to allow ourselves to
be happy may be the greatest, most courageous act of all.
– David Whyte
As I approach,
it comes to me quickly –
all four seasons have converged,
are visible residents
of this mornings beach.
Here are bands of snow from this spell
we call Winter.
Here, layers of leaf-surf to shuffle through the memories,
we called Fall.
Which, seems to me,
was just yesterday?
The sands dna carries the Summer sun,
still warm,
within its restless, shifting soul.
It whispers promises of returning warmth and sunshine as I stand, here and now, in cold, driving rain,
working through markers of time,
arriving at my favorite season,
Spring!
Grief, death and hope are front and center,
as Vinnie’s beautiful, driftwood cross
still stands as a memorial to his mother’s recent passing,
as well as, the hope of springs sure arrival!
Easter carries the sharp winds of death,
alive with the eternal mystery of resurrection.
I realize there are many symbols of spring,
on this mixed media stretch of grainy life.
The all-weather gulls floating, trusting,
eternally free.
The rhythm of the waves forever dancing with,
continually kissing,
the shore.
Then there’s me,
aware and alive,
with possibilities
of love,
music,
even that slippery word,
happiness,
surrounding my steps!
It doesn’t matter
that I haven’t even heard your voice yet.
Knowing I am worthy of this is enough.
As hopes awaken,
rising strong on mended wings,
trusting the healing path taken,
the work continues.
Allowing the
shy, twinkling lights
to glow and illuminate
the most fearful, secret corners
of the darkest rooms
of my heart.
I smile and silently shout, Yes!
I promise to love and be loved!
Can you hear me, wherever you are?
Is your heart shouting out as well?
I can’t stop smiling.
Courage,
that fearless lion,
who will lead us all home
right where we belong.
Keep walking though there’s no place to get to.
Don’t try to see through the distances.
That’s not for human beings. Move within, but don’t move the way fear makes you move.
– Rumi
You will come at a turning of the trail
to a wall of flame
After the hard climb & the exhausted dreaming
you will come to a place where he
with whom you have walked this far
will stop will stand
beside you on the treacherous steep path
& stare as you shiver at the moving wall, the flame
that blocks your vision of what comes after.
And that one
who you thought would accompany you always,
who held your face
tenderly a little while in his handsā
who pressed the palms of his hands into drenched grass
& washed from your cheeks, the tear-tracksā
he is telling you now
that all that stands between you
& everything you have known since the beginning
is this: this wall. Between yourself
& the beloved, between yourself & your joy,
the riverbank swaying with wildflowers, the shaft
of sunlight on the rock, the song.
Will you pass through it now, will you let it consume
whatever solidness this is
you call your life, & send
you out, a tremor of heat,
a radiance, a changed
flickering thing?
I have spent most of my adult life in bad relationships, and when I say bad, I mean it in the worst sense of that word. I’m not blaming anyone else. I ‘needed’ and chose those relationships to learn what I have learned about myself, I needed them to shine the spotlight on my dark places and I needed them to show me the differences between what love is and is not, and for my own personal healing, which has allowed me to leave harmful relationships and still fight through to stay open to love.
I believe in love! I want love! I want a life partner! I want tenderness! We are here to love.
I am a girl who loves deeply, loves passionately and has the ability to see potential in others, and have fallen in love with potential a few times.
All human relationships are tricky and there is always this balance of good and bad. The passion and the ugly underbelly of when passion twists and becomes something else, can easily happen.
I’m not calling myself an expert, I try not to judge, but to understand myself through what I have chosen. I have never allowed myself to be a victim. I make choices. I have free will. I am responsible for my own actions. I do not condone the bad actions of others, but I have to take responsibility for only mine.
Here are a few of my own:
I lived in a verbally, mentally and sexually abusive marriage for 12 years; I accepted a marriage proposal in which I was asked to be a consolation prize; I stayed way longer than I should have with a man with a drug addiction who stole all my money (I convinced myself I could help him-ha); I chose to stay for two years with a man who refused to even allow me to sit beside him on the sofa without his permission. I dated a man who was willing to commit what he believed was ‘sin’ with me and then say terrible words of condemnation and judgement of that sin afterward. Then choose to put us both back in that same situation again.
There were many good things about all these relationships as well. Things that made me want to stay, want to see them get better. That’s why it’s tricky. How do you give up? That’s not easy for me.
You have to examine what you’ll tolerate. What’s important. You have to be willing to lose things. Sometimes really big things, and without a guarantee of what you will receive in return. It’s a huge gamble to go for what you really want – and be willing to believe that a real equal relationship is possible. Takes a lot of faith and guts.
Yup, I have been in some real doozies. I am so grateful for paying attention and learning a few lessons.
One of the biggest has been the ‘Potential problem’ š Every person I have ever loved, including myself, has vast amounts of untapped potential. I am hopeful that I have learned the lessons of entering into an intimate relationship with someone who has firmly chosen to leave that landscape under ice their whole life.
Just the other day a wonderful man said to me…’I could have…’ but guess what? He didn’t. I see that. It’s ok. He’s free to make choices. I am just so grateful I have learned and don’t allow myself to give him credit for what he could have done, but left undone.
There are so many things I could do, but what remains is what I do. It is what it is. Always.
I can love someone deeply, but that doesn’t mean I give up what I have learned. That would just be stupid of me.
Through all my adventures and lessons in this complex and wonderful thing we have simply named LOVE, my greatest blessing in taking responsibility for myself has been learning to love myself. I feel so fortunate to have found myself lovely, lovable and totally beloved and to know for sure, you can find that true for yourself – IF you choose to!!
I would love to find a life partner, someone to share myself and the rest of the journey with, but I am ok if that doesn’t happen. I would rather walk alone than be in an unequal relationship. I pray for the ability to keep that always in my vision!
I am so grateful for the words of Anne LaMott, ‘Grace meets us right where we are, but never leaves us there.’ and I have found EVERY little thing is grace, if we allow it.
ACL 1/9/15
life: acoustic & amplified 