intentional life

magnum opus

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the color purple, seminal chef d’oeuvre Alice birthed;

roots by Alex helped African-Americans define our place here on this complicated Earth;

revelations, the glorious masterpiece Alvin conceived, changed forever how dance is perceived;

i have a dream, Dr. King presciently declared to a young nation its mandate laid bare;

like these fellow humans extraordinaire,

do we all, too, have deep inside a magnum opus to share –

some work of great resonance and immediacy

one channeled through us mysteriously and thoroughly

to awaken, enlighten, and inspire humanity

so as to foster lasting peace and unity

and help alleviate suffering, injustice and egregious inequality?

affirmative, i believe

as this may be the reason why we are here now and live.

our masterwork may manifest itself as

a seemingly subtle deed

or via the birth of a divine human being.

for some, an idea whose time has finally and suddenly been fashioned;

for others, an action or creation born of deliberate and obsessive passion.

it may be immediately recognized

or, initially, widely despised and reviled.

alas, we humans can be so naïve and blind.

what is your magnum opus–

is it in the past

or do you feel it coming up for air and light at very last?

will you discern it as such

or cavalierly, insecurely dismiss it as mere fluff?

 

 

 

 

 

 

why?

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why them and not me?

why this, not that, reality?

why do the myriad dots of life connect and collide as they do?

why does, for some, dreams and fairy tales come true?

while for others, they just barely make due.

why for some, more and more,

while for others poorer than poor?

why is there still such a concept as war

when truly we know why we came here for?

why do we hide behind an app, swiping left and right,

hoping for some connection even if shallow and just for one night?

why is it that we have such fear of our vulnerability,

forgetting it is the font of our invincibility?

why pretend to be that which you are intrinsically not,

systematically obliterating that which was naturally got –

the kinky hair, the grey strands, the broad nose, the dark skin, the laugh lines

leaving not a trace of these behind?

why settle in Life when you can be so much more and soar?

why does fear seem to always be the default for so many, and courage, the internal anomaly?

why is it so hard to get along and sing the same song – we are family, we are the world, we are one, we shall overcome…

why is Love blind and not hate?

the whys, on and on I can go…would it ever end?

no.

 

 

dear b.,

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first and foremost, I love You.

Your love for Me, in turn, I hold in great and eternal gratitude.

Our relationship has grown beyond that of friends…

no, more like Kindred Souls to this particular end.

hence why the current page in our long and storied sojourn,

feels decidedly like a deep and painful burn.

we’ve always rooted for the other,

always encouraged one another to dream bigger and fly ever higher.

You, perhaps better than any other, know of My wanderlust and constant restlessness.

You have been privy to how My Spirit lifts, is renewed and healed by following My bliss.

So, why now this time, after an extraordinary adventure granted unto Me,

You, seething with anger born of internal frustration and pain, lash out so emotionally violently?

first and foremost, I love You; and from love, great compassion and recognition flows.

I see into You, Beloved B.

I can see the great challenge of living within a body of such fragility,

a body, once so strong (as mine, you may perceive), one designed to walk, to travel, to live independently.

with an extraordinary mind, Spirit and imagination like Yours, you were not meant for bed confinement, relegated to one small room in deafening silence.

we, the “able-bodied” go out and play; you have no choice but to stay.

I see into You, Beloved B.

what would you have me do and say when it is the benevolent Universe that wills all this way?

shall I, in fear of losing you, keep My joy from You, hide, shrink before You, so that You do not continue to resent and dismiss “me” in the depths of your pain?

is that the way forward for us? no, just prideful and inane.

We are better than that, both know better, and have the capacity to do and to be better.

The only question: together, will we?

I see You and it takes Two.

 

 

 

 

 

purpose

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why am I here, still?

at this time, in this place, within this vessel?

what am I to be, to do, to contribute –

here in this body, space and time?

been seeking since I’m ten,

since consciousness set in:

who, what, whose am “I”?

there are no accidents, it is said.

every thing, every one has its space and purpose –

its raison d’etre.

does one have to unequivocally and consciously know it – one’s purpose

in order to live it, be it, fully manifest it?

what of those who cannot clearly see nor feel it,

where purpose is faint, elusive, scattered – silent, silenced?

Perhaps,

we can live purpose regardless of blindness?

led, driven, propelled from deep within

by an invisible yet strangely tangible Force,

one that whispers imperceptibly yet very clearly:

“don’t worry, my beloved, I got this; I got you. Always. B’lieve that.”

genius: part 1

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“When nature has work to be done, she creates a genius to do it.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

The presumption being then that when “the work” has been done to satisfaction, Nature calls genius back home: “Your work down here is complete; you’ve fulfilled your purpose. On to the next.”

In my mind and heart, this is what transpired in the case of our dearly beloved and departed Prince. Nature so stunningly and (in the moment) inexplicably ceasing him back to Her bosom, shook something deep inside of me that continues to tremble and uncomfortably shift.

I’m feeling unmoored, disoriented – not quite certain why. What exactly is going on within? As I cannot articulate it with any real coherence – just a thick mixture of sadness, dread, fear, confusion – I desperately seek both answers and comfort by delving ever deeper into The Artist’s life and music. It’s bordering frighteningly on the obsessive, this I know! Yet, I cannot turn away – it is an internal draw beyond my conscious control at the Moment. Truly I tell you, resistance is futile. So, I reluctantly relent – too tired and enthralled to do otherwise.

In an interview, Prince astutely observed that any interest in him beyond his music speaks to a lacking/a need in another – nothing to do with him. He is absolutely correct; to that I can wholeheartedly attest.

My sojourn into the Purple Rain continues to yield much and rich fruit. Presently, I am ruminating on the concept of “genius” – a word that is synonymous with Prince. Very few would dare argue otherwise – nor could do so convincingly.

Yes, Prince was a genius; he embodied it in a way that is breathtaking and astonishes, this he knew from early on until the end/beginning (how could he not?) Nature wanted to fill its world with music and showmanship not since seen or experienced and – poof – Prince Rogers Nelson was created for such a time as that. It took only 57 years for Nature’s work to be done through that relatively small human vessel- exemplifying just how bright and blindingly brilliant Prince’s Light shined, how singularly focused he was on his work, mission, purpose.

As my insides churn with envy and profound inadequacy (comparing and despairing), a little voice, whimpering and seeking some solace, whispers: “Is genius/an entity, a creation such as a Prince the exception or the rule?” This voice is challenging me to step back a little from the haze and explore further: Is genius exceptional, elitist, reserved just for some, a very select few or is it a tad more generous and democratic in its form(s)? Hope for me comes with a belief in the latter. Perhaps, this explains the inexplicable pull I’ve been feeling into the Purple Rain – the message I desperately need to hear repeatedly, grasp, own, and, ultimately, share – the work/message that genius in the form formerly known as Prince was really placed on this Earth to do/deliver.

I am reminded of these words uttered by genius currently in the form know as Marianne Williamson:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world …We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Heartfelt many thanks for the coming liberation my dearly beloved Prince!

 

 

out of service

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I am

out

of

service.

No longer will I do only as told;

I will, instead, endeavor in all ways to be Bold.

No longer will I relent to your perspective on what is deemed art;

I will, instead, succumb only to the rhythm and vision of my own Heart.

No longer will I heed passively to what feels and sounds to me utterly absurd;

I will, instead, be Heard and not part of the herd.

No longer will I merely accept what is;

I will, instead, search, dig deep and extract from within for without what is authentically His.

Your definition of “success” I will choose to categorically reject;

For, you see, I am

now and forever more

out

of

your

service.

Home is…

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…where the Heart resides

…where the Soul flies

…where Love prevails

…where authentic connectedness cures all (or most) of what ails

…where one’s Spirit is finally free and can exhale

…where all pretense and the burdensome masks give way

…where your Tribe comes out to play

…where one’s many Songs are sung

…where creativity simply for its own sake is not so far-flung

…where Life is a little smoother around the edge

…where thoughts don’t constantly veer frighteningly toward The Ledge

Home is…

…the Peace that surpasses all understanding

…the Path Not yet Taken

…the constant Prayer seemingly unanswered

…the blissful state of feeling favored

…the real Me birthed and seen

…the Mystery, revealed

…the yellow-brick Road less Traveled

…the ultimate Goal unraveled

 

 

Off The Wall

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Livin’ crazy that’s the only way. So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf. And just enjoy yourself. Groove, let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain’t so bad at all
If you live it off the wall

Off The Wall, the album and song by the incomparable and prodigiously talented, very definition of icon, Michael Jackson. Just a few days ago, in the midst of stumbling across a documentary about Michael’s journey to the making of this extraordinary album, I was literally transported way back in time, back to my prepubescent self. I recalled with stunning (and somewhat terrifying) clarity my dancing in my room with cousins and sisters, clinging to the Off the Wall album, holding it (Michael) close to my chest, singing along to every word on an album that I must have listened to hundreds of times – I could not get enough of Michael – his beautiful and perfect voice seemed to be speaking directly to and into me.

Bon Dieu the power of scent, food and music to return us to another time in our life – years, decades earlier as if no time had passed. We see, hear, taste all exactly as it was. A reminder that we carry all of the different iterations of ourselves within our selves. Nothing is ever really lost or forgotten. The body and Soul store it all and bring it rushing back to us with just the right trigger. Nothing we can do when that chain reaction commences – just hold on, just let it be. Resistance is indeed very futile.

Even as we go back, we eventually return to the present Moment with a new appreciation for the trigger that took us back. When I journeyed back from prepubescence to middle age me, it was as if my eyes had suddenly opened. I could see. There was a renewed relevance to the lyrics of Off the Wall; nuances I could better grasp and appreciate.

Life ain’t so bad at all, if you live it off the wall..

I have never in my life felt “normal.” Even as a child, I could not verbalize that feeling, but I felt it. Something ain’t quite right; I am not like others my age. Well over thirty years later, very little has changed in that sentiment. Now, with “maturity,” I am more accepting of Self than I was back then. This is me, this is it. Take it or leave it.

Life ain’t so bad at all, if you live it off the wall..

I continue to do my best to live my life on the wall (I suppose one would say), keeping myself on the straight and narrow and traditional. Such a responsible path has always felt so utterly and painfully uncomfortable for me, like a straitjacket, like wings clipped, and Spirit dampened.

Life ain’t so bad at all, if you live it off the wall..Live your life off the wall (live it off the wall)

Michael’s words, his commandment to live life off the wall ran through me, washed over me, and continue to reverberate to this Moment. It felt, feels like I am being given permission (finally) to just me authentically me.

Live your life off the wall

A clarion call for me, if ever there was one…Indeed, there is no other choice really. One must be who one really is, lest one dries up like a raisin in the sun, to quote another Great One. Deep in my heart, I believe we are each here, each wonderfully and fiercely crafted to do a particular job for our World. This special role is the byproduct only of authenticity.

Groove, let the madness …{Of Your} music get {in}to you
Life ain’t so bad at all, If you live it off the wall

Not only is life ain’t so bad at all, it is bliss to be you, to be true, to fully self-actualize and gift our World with our unique magnificence. At first glimpse, it may indeed appear that such a life is off the wall. Difference/uniqueness elicit such intense unease in humans. We tend to favor predictability, matters and people placed neatly on the wall where we can easily digest, understand and deem safe – even if on some level we know this safety is a grand illusion. Artists like MJ, provocateurs in our midst both revered and reviled, remind us/warn us of the precariousness of our illusions and whisper in our ears what our Souls (our true Selves) already know…

Livin’ crazy that’s the only way. So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf. And just {be} yourself.  Groove, let the madness …{Of Your} music get {in}to you.
Life ain’t so bad at all
If you live it off the wall

GRACE

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how does one adequately define and contain this thing known as Grace?

the word in speech calms and soothes; it brings with it hope and the promise of salvation.

we know Grace when we see it, feel it, but what exactly is it?

Grace is unearned we learn, given freely to those most undeserving.

“ask and you shall receive,” scripture teaches. “knock and the door shall open.”

so, is Grace answered prayer, outcomes relentlessly hoped and prayed for?

what of the unanswered prayers and doors never opened?

“there but for the Grace of God,” we utter somewhat sheepishly when the fickle, unpredictable hands of perceived misfortune pass us by.

what then when we are brought to our knees, when life unexpectedly and fiercely pivots into the unknown, the unwelcomed and unwanted new normal?

is there Grace in the darkness, the mess, the despair?

or does Grace only reside in the light, the clarity, the joy?

does Grace come solely from above, from our God?

or can we, spiritual beings in human flesh, also be Grace-ious, bestowing Grace upon each other?

is God’s will the opposite or is it synonymous to His Grace?

how does one define Grace, this small big word that is so often referenced and yet so rarely fully grasped?

perhaps, like beauty and God (and other such big small concepts), Grace is defined by its beholder and is also beyond definition.