I went to pray
in the green cathedral
of the forest today.
and my heart was open.
I sat, surrounded
by the symphony of life,
rock, moss, ferns, earth,
I felt so blessed
to soak in this beauty,
this perfection of life,
I asked for the truth
to be revealed to me.
This is what I heard:
You are the one and only instrument of creation.
You are consciousness, and I love you.
I love all the ways you express yourself,
the myriad forms you assume to create
the tapestry of existence!
I celebrate you today,
exactly as you are,
light of being.
Every day is another universe to explore.
If it seems routine or boring,
look harder. Breathe. Feel. Taste.
The weather is always changing.
The light will never be the same.
The sounds arising, each and every one,
are more miracles of universes
being created and coming to pass.
This human life is the tiniest blip
on the grand scale of the universe,
where entire galaxies are born and die
and eons flash by in a single day.
Don’t take yourself too seriously.
This will all be gone, and soon.
How you live this day
is the only thing that matters.
I hope you’re faring well
now that we have slowed down a little
and allowed you a chance to recoup your strength a bit.
It must be hard with so many of us human children running
all over you pretty constantly
with no thought to how your plant children
and animal children and mineral children
are affected by us screaming human toddlers over here.
I’m going to bet this is your favorite Name day in years,
now that the dolphins have returned
and the turtles have returned
and the air is cleaner
and countless other places on your beautiful body
have had a chance to rest and heal.
Mother, thank you.
Thank you for your support all these years.
Thank you for this life, this breath,
all of these opportunities to move and be and express
the fullness of who we are.
Mother, I pray that when this strange time
your human children are going through right now is over,
we’ll remember what really matters,
and take you into account when we make our decisions.
But I know that you love us no matter what,
and you’ll do what you have to do
to teach us what we need to learn,
as all good mothers do.
Just One of Your Many Human Children
PS You’re so beautiful and I love you!
Today’s prompt over at NaPoWriMo invites us to write a poem about life’s simple pleasures. There are many. How could I choose just one? Or even a hundred? It’s almost midnight so I’ll contain myself and mention a few of my simple pleasures.
The sound of bubbles colliding with the sides of my glass
as I sip my sparkling water
Stepping outside and feeling fresh, cool wind on my face
The sun piercing through the clouds after days of rain
The scent of a fresh pot of green tea
Feeling my fingertips growing calloused from playing guitar
The sound of my children’s laughter
The taste of a really crisp apple
Sitting on my cushion in the morning and looking inwards
Watching blossoms fluttering from the trees like snowflakes
Lying down to sleep after an exhausting day
Taking a nap in the middle of the day
Watching ink spill out of my pen and onto the page
The feel of yarn slipping through my fingers
as I knit another row
The sound of my sewing machine.
The smell of steam rising off fabric while I’m ironing
Hitting several green lights in a row
Stepping into the hot shower when I feel cold
Love welling up as I tuck my kids in at night.
Just. Being. Alive.
Uggggg. Rough day. And today’s prompt over at NaPoWriMo invites us to write a poem complimenting something. This is probably going to be a good exercise for me, given that I’ve had a tough time today and I’m feeling quite negative. Hmmm. Should I try praising the thing I really am not liking these days, which is attempting to homeschool my kids with materials from their public school system when all the kids really want to do is watch TV?
Ah, remote learning, how AMAZING you are!
I love being in the comfort of my home with my kids.
I love that my kids get to go to the bathroom
and have snacks when they want.
I love that they can take breaks when they want.
I love that I don’t have to rush them out of bed in the morning.
And even though I’m pretty terrible at this, I’m learning too.
Even though I don’t like coaxing, cajoling and bribing
my kids to do each little piece of work,
they are learning too.
So although I’m really excited for this time to be over,
I know that there is enough good here
that I’ll miss parts of this experience when it’s gone.
Thank you, remote learning, for being a great teacher.
Today I turn 43;
This body has made
43 trips around the sun,
and it seems significant
that I find myself alone
to send up rockets of appreciation
from my square foot of earth
to celebrate the occasion of my birth.
I like myself.
I like the company I keep
in the quiet moments
when there is no one else
to break the silence,
when I have the space to listen to
the deep music of what continues
without human effort,
when we finally slow down
and accept that
enough is enough.
It’s up to me.
I choose how I go through this.
I choose my response.
The old habit may be to panic,
catastrophize and focus
on what could go wrong,
but this habit isn’t helpful.
It isn’t life-affirming,
It doesn’t enable me
to offer my gifts to the world.
Why not breathe?
Why not practice gratitude
for what could be
an incredible opportunity
for awakening, for transformation?
Why not envision
a realm of infinite possibility?
Let’s collectively create
a brand new habit called:
awakening to our blessings,
offering our gifts in service
to the greatest good!