blocked 🚫
mere months
after The Transition
of he who was The Force
keeping family afloat,
tethered,
ever so delicately.
without him,
shedding,
the masks came off,
niceties abandoned.
“Love” disintegrated
to the point of blocking 🚫
take nothing personally.
still, sad,
feels abrasive,
like a middle finger 🖕
borne of deep hurt
a sense of disrespect,
expectations unmet.
The Circle 🔵 dwindling
by death
and, now, blocks 🚫
everything
so tender,
tenuous,
ephemeral.
Suddenly,
left eye
redness,
pain,
intense light sensitivity.
oh no, uveitis, again?
so soon?
sadness born of
a knowingness.
“I did this.”
relentlessly
disrespectfully
pushed and pushed,
ignored Body’s
implore
to stop,
subtract.
Then the dream
set in another time –
childhood.
garbage overflowing,
unattended
and yet,
still present.
a father
feeding a mother,
their daughter
holding space
for others.
The next day,
head slammed
into metal.
where?
right above
the healing
left eye!
did the brain move?
was some semblance
of sense knocked into
the head, a subtle
and much-needed,
shifting of consciousness?
A few days later:
morning, bore witness
to a wake of vultures
tearing into flesh.
evening, a searing ache
in the middle of the head,
eyes burning,
bedridden.
relief, only from
sleep –
stop,
subtract.
“How is Guirlaine?”
He, the CEO,
asked
her,
who formerly
engaged
weekly
with Guirlaine.
He was to do so now.
But He
seemingly
forgot
about
Guirlaine,
allowing her to
drift,
dis-engage,
become
more and more
untethered,
free
to explore
other realms & possibilities,
to consider
Thresholds & Gates,
and play in
The Liminal.
All is well.
All in Divine Order.
what is the Sacred Work
I am to do
being
fully
here
now –
tired
grief-strickened
stunned
a tad numbed?
what can I offer
from “my” heArt
to “yours”?
the breath?
mere air?
yes, deep breathing
inhaling,
smelling
like the way of a baby,
taking It all
in and down
to the belly
to the Fire 🔥
hold It there
gently witness
trans-formation.
At the appointed time,
exhale
re-lease
birth
slowly
intentionally
Freshness
something new
something
needed
urgently
now!
This is what
I am
to do.
an explosion!
a dismantling of perceived power,
a dramatic testament to impending change.
life cannot be contained,
controlled,
doled out in calculated bits
to a privileged few.
all this witnessed
through the wall of glass.
time ending for those over there –
the workers –
nearer to the raging Fire 🔥
and billowing towers of toxic smoke.
the possibility of extended time
and, perhaps, lessons,
for those over here,
a bit farther away –
the family of consumers
living in the house 🏠
with the wall of glass.
The Current
came –
suddenly –
and took him away
from wife, young daughter,
family, aligned work,
and an adoring community.
“My apologies,” said The Current
whispering
gently
as The Soul left his body.
“You are to return Home –
now.
No tme
to say proper goodbyes,
to get affairs in perfect order,
to apologize.
This is your dharma,
your beautiful storyline
to come from water 💧
at the start of The Journey
and be taken back by water 💧
at the end.”
In memory of Malcolm-Jamal Warner 🙏💔
a rather bold invitation made:
write your own bible.
at first, a bit of consternation,
followed by curiosity
and irreverent possibilities!
bible as just a word –
lower case b
supplanting the upper case and its connotations:
dogma
constriction
judgement
patriarchy.
no, in my bible
tales of only love
connection,
spaciousness,
and a direct –
always open –
line to Benevolence.
some times
i get hungry,
typically late
at night,
just before
i am supposed to be
in bed.
the hunger comes –
an unease in the pit
of my gut.
the mouth follows
with a desperate urge for…
what
exactly?
don’t want to go deep
now.
and so i reach
for the sourdough bread,
carefully peeling its edges,
nibbling,
satiated.
any pieces beneath the crust –
whoa…intense!
it feels way too much!
we fall down
and we get up
we fall asleep
and we wake up
back and forth
up and down
the spectrum of consciousness
we go
round and round
the cycle of unwellness
until
sometimes quite suddenly
a shift
from deep Within
Grace
a gentle beckoning
to another
completely different
way
she teaches me –
my Little Niece–
a Guru from the day we met –
months into a pandemic.
she taught me
then
the feel of unadulterated Love –
startling in its immediacy and potentcy!
she continues to exemplify
curiosity and Surrendered play.
Innocence demands cultivating
patience and acceptance;
necessitates
being
there
fully
now
in Its Presence.
Innocence is exquisitely perceptive –
cannot hide for long
behind the “adult” masks.
she humbles me,
de-constructs me,
my Little Niece.
forever grateful 🙏
forever changed 🙏
