Each generation faces its own
struggle and strife.
We demand answers to our questions.
We search for firm footing.
The answers are not so clearcut
bold and obvious – though sometimes they are.
Simple solutions seem almost laughable.
The riddle rattles around in our head.
It tumbles and rolls quiet
like a desert weed across a vast landscape
or loud
like coins in a canister
we shake up and down
or a magic ball that should solve all!
Conclusive, personal it is not.
And what of the scholar who writes and reads
scouring pages upon pages
fixed wood in their hands.
The letters fall off the page.
Can I pluck them off one by one
and make sense of the chatter?
The noise that rattles.
It morphs from chatter to laughter,
sob and sigh.
A tooth-saw grin etched into wood.
A permanent mark of what I once understood.
Every Acorn A Promise
Every tight little bud
A promise.
A protective shell
from the harsh winter.
Even though the trees appear
to be shedding and letting go,
They are preparing
and abundantly so.
For the glorious spring
That has yet to come.
The Ripple Effect
The ripples of light
A reflection of the moon
still, stagnant, a clear mirror of
what’s above, so below.
Which image is true?
Which image, the reflection?
A pebble in the water
will break that perfect, serene image.
Life each day is full of pebbles.
They can disrupt a clear scene,
- real or imagined –
thought, plan, or idea.
And now you are at a crossroads.
or plans get derailed,
Goals change.
Our focus and interests evolve as pebbles too.
The fluidity reminds me to not be so rigid
and stuck.
Like a mirror of glass,
I can reflect in my own imperfect image.
And that is just as real or valid.
Imagined or rooted in the here and now.
The ripple effect.
Some pebbles are big, heavy rocks
that make a big splash
Disrupting the quiet.
The waters are moved with brute force.
A little pebble may not have such a loud,
obvious effect.
But its ripples still go out, far and wide.
Is there a cause and effect?
Do our stones create the waves
of rage or anger?
or serenity on our shores
further down the journey?
We can’t hold all the stones to prevent their departure.
Release them into the waters.
Transform them into sand.
Hardships meet resistance.
Sharp jagged edges get smoothed down.
Even if it breaks into a million pieces,
the rock is still ever present.
Holding onto the rocks would be a burden,
their weight, their heaviness,
and sharp edges.
We wouldn’t feel or see the joy
and lightness that surrounds us.
If we drop them all at once,
it’s like hitting rock bottom.
A jarring crash to the system.
Can I let go of this stone,
even the pretty ones?
I can carry them in my pocket
but eventually there will be a hole
or they will be lost without my attention or care.
Then I will feel loss, grief, dismay.
But it wasn’t all resting on
what the stone represents.
It is all inside of me.
The burden and the light.
The sadness and the joy.
There is safety in letting go.
Now I am free to embrace the day,
to make connections,
to feel joy, love, peace, and gratitude.
Accepting that a perfect,
serene scene was never
the end goal anyway.
Finding my Voice
I used to be afraid of the dark
and the deep shadows in the
corners and depths unseen.
A watchful eye, I did not feel alone.
My voice was not to be believed or
listened to.
First by others
then by my own accord.
It felt drowned out by many others
whose voices rose above
and outmatched mine.
I no sooner gave up.
How many years would pass before I
could sing and chant
to my growing belly
in my kundalini mantras.
My voice like a bellow
no longer soft and meek.
It reverberated off the walls
and landed in my heart
and in my palm.
My body shifted and transformed.
Motherhood.
I was ushered into a new role.
Determined to be more loving, more present,
more grateful.
I not only found my voice,
I found my courage
and the authority to
speak what is mine.
I am paving the way
for the next generation
to be believed.
To be seen and heard.
At nightfall
At nightfall we run with abandon.
We feel alive and invincible,
unaware of our own fragility.
Walking on a wire, we coax that
necessary bravery
to balance the task and the act.
At nightfall we run with abandon.
The amusement rides lit up and flashing
Old relics of a bygone era
Still functioning with a dated beauty.
The blossom disappears underfoot in the dark.
I try to save it and place it in my pocket
for protection, for safekeeping,
unaware that my own reckless abandon
could still crush it as my heart beats in my chest.
Laughing and playing,
Feeling alive and free.
I plucked that blossom.
Some beauty spoke to me.
A language that you were mine
for the taking.
And I acted on that urgency.
At nightfall we run with abandon,
not knowing what tomorrow brings.
How flashing lights were to sparkle never again.
How fun summer nights were limited.
Childhood seems so random.
Our family, so random.
The choice is not ours.
And we grow up together
Awkward in our adult-shaped bodies.
Our minds want to stay light.
To play with reckless abandon,
not knowing how short one life is
compared to the next.
What we do matters less than who we are
We tend to work like old cars.
Something goes.
The engine,
The body,
The smooth flow of heat and friction,
The get up and go,
The pedal to the metal, as they say.
But we are not machines nor computers.
Even if society tricks us,
Influences us,
Tells us otherwise.
I am more than a widget giving an output.
Yes, we all need each other.
We are an interdependent species,
Even when we can feel the most alone.
Our time is sacred and limited,
Precious and potent.
How can society run simpler
and with less friction, tension and pressure
so that what we do matters less than who we are
and how we show up?
Maybe that is what maturity is
and taking time to ask the questions,
not just reacting and repeating
the rote memory of what we have always done.
Our light
Do not cower, be worried with doubt and fear.
My stance, my words, my being is light.
To my inner source, to my loves,
Embody and embrace my uniqueness.
Now is the time to shine and feel empowered.
Do not cower.
To shrink is not to be approved.
To shrink is the exact opposite
and our light would dim.
Our voice, our very nature and being is that light.
Breathe in the light.
Let it swirl into your heart
And exhale love,
Metta lovingkindness towards yourself and the world.
Stars in the Sky
Stars in the sky
That look only inches apart
To my naked eye.
A pendulum swings between the two
In gentle, rhythmic sweeps.
A rope is anchored
From Earth to the heavens
I now soar and swing.
The World is Rapidly Changing
The world is rapidly changing
Faster and faster
The moment can hold so much.
My ease, my joy, my lightness,
My good and bad.
The different versions of ourselves.
The good daughter
The sacrificial martyr is not my goal,
Is not the point.
This is the breaking point.
The changing of patterns
That change the story
That change the state of being.
I can be light.
I can jump on the stress train.
I choose where to focus
How to be, to show up.
This is me.
Boredom
Boredom is good
To find your inner reservoir
Your creativity.
Your solutions are needed
And this is the practice arena.
Healing Insights 