Peekaboo with the moon
One eyed wink above Beaver Peak
Snow feathered white pine needles
Vestiges of storm clouds parting
Cerulean blue slips between
Liminal space appear and disappear
Thoughts wafting through an active mind
More than human world speaks to
Slow time, movement rooted in being
Presence of stillness, grace, equanimity
Curl of the snow wave warps around the roof
Muffled, subdued, quietude, permeates
Glacial percolation into each cell
What does it mean if a father cannot protect his children?
NPR story hour
Youssef on the phone
Shepherd of sixty Palestinian refugees
Tent camping on the Southern border
Eygpt a stone throw away
Haggard, soft, exhausted, compassionate voice
Just wanting to reunite with his family
Two sisters, one 8 months pregnant
Simple questions explore the human experience
In a zone of genocidal apartheid
His son requests kisses on the cheek
Until he falls asleep
Yousssef obliges, he appreciates this new ritual
Children stir easily to any sound in the night
Self-questioning, regret, why did he choose to have children
Why have children if you cannot protect them?
If he could go back in time
He would never marry
He would never have children
Not here, not in Palestine, not where Israel rains bombs
Not where USA built drones drop bombs
Not in the open air prison
What does it mean if we do not help a father protect his children?
big bang deep time
deep time love
deep time love
cosmic creative love
earth bound and rooted love
full bodied life force love
love transcendent of human experience
more than human love
love that permeates billion year old fractured rock
love that recharges great river basins
love that carves canyons for 100 million years
love that leaves footprints in sandstone
love that is fossilized, a story for the future
love that ruptures composite volcanoes
love that uplifts geologic formations 1000 feet
love that charges a tsunami across the pacific ocean
love that crashes a meteorite, imprinting a 500 mile wide basin
love that explodes across a solar system
love that bursts supernovas
love that coalesces galaxies and multi-verses
love sublime energy waves
love ecstatic eruptions
love symphonic
love big bang
Moments of hollowed silence deepen, slow
Languid time lays down to rest
Muted expanse of frozen water, ice, snow, crystals
Beacon, angelic calling to step into the void of becoming
Cradle in the glacial vacated notch, bounded by moraine remains
Veils of perception emerge, diverge, appear, disappear, arise, dissolve
Temporal vestiges of cosmic presence
Invisible cloak a welcoming invitation to step further within the unknown
Dissolving identity at the behest of the mountains
Embracing the potent potentiality of rebirth
Each stride, movement of certainty, assured of the embrace, support
Forward the path unfolds elegantly like snow crystals aligning
Undulations of slushy snow, frozen wavelets transformed
Metamorphic cliffs cast in fairy frost shimmer, sheen, seeing in between
Recommitting, vowing, declarations of fealty to the Goddess of creation and fertility
In service, seeding the future imagination
Lucifer
Bringer of light
Morning star
Venus shinning bright
Reminder of how religion distorts
Myths uprooted, discarded, dessicated
Makes being light almost a fright
Until you recognize the perspective
Anchored in limitation and fear
Twists, distorts, maligns the truth
Shallow ego defenses grasping at meaning
Rise up child of the morning
Lose the veil of darkness
No reason to hide in shadow
No sense in diminishing yourself
Divine purpose made you bright
Bringer of the light
Seep between the cracks, scatter the night
Illuminate the heavens
Remind the children of their origin
Make their path clear, free from fear
Lucifer
Shallow Grave
Hulking metal skeletons leer hauntingly from the battlefield
Twisted pipelines, silent dereks, sporadic methane candles flare up
Oil tanker semi’s list in the ditch, puffed up pickups sit idle at abandoned dealerships
The great behemoths of the sea lay beached, ruptured hulls leak, ooze black blood streams
Oil rigs consumed by mutant mollusks slowly submerge
Desiccated remains of humanity scattered about
Coyotes, Rats, and Vultures scavenge the shallow grave
Shattered iPhone face, shredded Armani rib cage, Tiffany crystals pulverized returning to sand
Amazon savanna smolders in the hot sun, bunch grass, and scrub brush
Antarctica dessert sands blast about in a torrent of wind, aeolian dunes merge
Everglades submerged in salt, broken by crashing waves
Asian sub-continent swallowed by hungry seas, Hindu temple and Buddhist figurines hide in the deep
Great North American barren landscape, inhospitable dystopian dream
Desiccated remains of humanity scattered about
Coyotes, Rats, and Vultures scavenge the shallow grave
Dust bowl diamond fields collect tumbleweed
Yankee stadium playground for jellyfish
Hollywood boulevard shattered remnants, opulent delusions
Hallowed halls of Congress, hollow echo chamber for Ravens and Rats
Silent ghosts scream foreboding warnings to titans of consumption
Capitalism, deaf ears blithely beat to the monetary rhythm
Narcissus drowns in a fossil fuel sheen
Desiccated remains of humanity scattered about
Coyotes, Rats, and Vultures ravage the shallow grave
Pre-teen black beauty queen sits on a broken swing
Genetically modified dandelions preen in the winter sun
Lonely shadow of death moves the pawn for checkmate
Playground of disheveled dreams
MNI WICONI
EL RIO DULCE DE LA VIDA
NUESTRAS VIDAS SON UN RIO
Drip, drip, drip, mountain bosom meltwater, drip, drip, drip
Small, imperceptible, single drip drop drip drop
Slow, rhythmic, drum, cadence in a stone cathedral
Hollowed choir, aria, serenade, sing life along
Coalescing, coming together, forming a current
Steady trickle, harmonious chimes, gentle, rolling, flowing over rock
Great excitement, infinite possibility, celebratory energy, hurtling toward a gradient change
A precipice, a shear drop, a waterfall, cascading
Our mass becomes a churning, frothing spray, unrecognizable
Boundaries of form, identity, definition dissolve
Water bursts forth, everywhere, cosmic life erupting
Rowdy, raucous, raging torrent, creating
El RIO DULCE DE LA VIDA
NUESTRAS VIDAS SON UN RIO
Merging, converging, diverging, braiding, dendritic tributaries
Logjams, landslides, flooding, collapsing banks, dams, breaching
Sweepers, strainers, boulders, boils, whirl pools
Fluvial morphology, certainty of change
No river remains the same
Water never resists change
There’s always a new way downstream
Song of the river sing us to the sea
NUESTRAS VIDAS SO UN RIO
EL RIO DULCE DE LA VIDA
MNI WICONI
Human doing…running, hurrying, working
Keeping a harried pace, got to appease the system of expectation
There is a prescription for success, Purdue Pharma’s got your back
The gateway drug is administered in the womb, every parent wants their child to have what they didn’t
Born conditioned to an economy of addiction
All the material excess that defines success
Multiple degrees, six figures, colonial home in the gentrified neighborhood, two kids attending dance and soccer, SUV and sports car, RV for the weekends, pontoon boat for the lake cabin
Human being…hollow, vacant stare, zombie of consumption
Seeking acceptance longing for belonging, hoping for meaning, chasing the American dream as it fades in the dystopian video game
Sad realization, suppressed, oppressed, depressed
Return to the script of the industrial revolution, work harder, work longer, work, work, work
Do more, compress life, living, in a narrow band width
What are the Jone’s doing?
The Marshall’s are going to Disney land again.
The Brown’s got a new quad.
Extend the credit, mortgage the house, again, find a side hustle
Capitalism, economy of addiction, is the prescription for an ailing America
Addicted to work and doing
Addicted to accumulating status symbols
Addicted to emotional numbing agents; alcohol, drugs, coffee, sugar
Addicted to distraction; TV, movies, concerts, video games, sporting events
Addicted to escapism; blame the poor, blame the migrants, blame the black, brown, muslim, jew, lesbian, gay, liberals, progressives
Capitalism, economy of addiction
Deny, lie, refuse, reject accountability and responsibility
Shout, spew, rage, rant, insults, threat, telltales of truth
Suppress, repress, oppress the fear, shame, guilt, sadness, anxiety
Masquerade, pompous, profusion and confusion
Embrace authoritarian contradictions, peddle the delusion, American tradition is under attack
Elevate the colonial notion that freedom is a flag, 4x4 pick-up, and a paycheck
Capitalism, economy of addiction
Still a puppet of British Imperialism
Tectonics
I feel the colliding plates
Force of nature
Tectonics of ideology crashing, grinding
Jostling, cracking,
Groaning, shattering
Eons of tension and stress
Hatred of OTHER, fueled, fed
Stoked by corporate greed and power
Tectonics shifting the landscape
Morphing, changing,
Releasing, upheaval
Mountains building, mountains succumbing
Subduction, dismantling rock
Melting, reconfiguring
Ruptures and fissures
Patriarch and Matriarchy
Conservative and Progressive
Fascist and Democracy
Rumbling, swaying, teetering
Everything shakes in the waves
Quakes in the onslaught
We lose our balance, fail, crumble
Storied illusion shatters at the feet of possibility
Pinnacles of perceived progress crash
Opulent consumption hollow in the accumulating human tragedy
New landmasses taking form
New valleys, canyons, beaches, vistas emerge
In the rubble, seeds of the future are nurtured in rich volcanic soil
Small shoots of growth reach for the light
Roots grow deep, nourished of pure clean rain
Mycelium extends tentacles of connectivity
A community is birthed and thrives
To nurture
To dream
First and foremost, before sharing my ideas on empowering people by embracing our emotions surrounding ecological grief, I need to share my own journey from trauma to transcendence. Whether it was their intention or not, my parents instilled in me a profound appreciation and respect, wonder and reverence for the natural world. This deep sense of responsibility as a steward to the earth has been a guiding light throughout my life in pursuing educational opportunities, professional paths, and ultimately how I walk on the Earth. Simultaneously, this assured sense of purpose has contributed to deep depressive states, bouts of hopelessness, and disempowerment. Only, with hindsight can I pinpoint my fifteen-year struggle with alcoholism as a coping mechanism for the overwhelming ecological grief I was experiencing. As a child, I frequently accompanied my father to various public forums where the United States Forest Service (USFS) solicited comments pertaining to proposed projects, accompanied natural resource scientists as they conducted field investigations, and community environmental group meetings as they developed strategies to address local ecological issues. I witnessed arguments that pitted jobs against grizzly bear habitat, community growth against wilderness values, and immediate livelihood against long-term water quality. I witnessed the power of multi-million-dollar corporations to bulldoze public perceptions and massage government representative fealty. A by-product of all this exposure at a young age was that my own perspective was invariably larger than the small rural mountain community in Montana, it became global. Equally, of paramount I honed in on ecological issues; I looked for them and wanted to understand them. I read about the plight of African Elephants due to the ivory trade in National Geographic, the threats to the Spotted Owl in old growth forests of Oregon and Washington in the Spokesman Review, and environmental hazards from the burning oil wells in Kuwait in Newsweek magazine. Each of these incidents seeded a growing sense of foreboding, an ominous cloud began to materialize on the horizon. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I determined to be an environmental scientist. A field trip with a group of geologists drilling monitoring wells to ascertain groundwater flow was immensely exciting and engaging to my curious mind. It was the ultimate detective novel, a great mystery waiting to be unraveled, flowing in the ground beneath my feet. This moment filled me with immense hope and possibility that the field of science would guide sound management decisions on the lands I loved so much and was a way I could be of service. The naïve exuberance of youth fueled my educational endeavors but was unable to temper the slide into hopelessness. Years spent in the University system invariably exposed me to many of the daunting complexities and failures in public land management. Yes, there was NEPA to guide project land management but local politicians were very vocal at disparaging government officials that didn’t draft proposals that supported timber production and receipts to local schools. Yes, there was CERCLA that directed public land management of hazardous waste sites but Congress didn’t allocate sufficient funds to the Superfund for remediation. The first climate summit was in 1979 but the first climate assessment wasn’t until 1991. Slowly, over the eight years of my education, like water weathering rock all this knowledge built a massive cumulus column of doom in my mind. Unfortunately, I suffer from a predilection for knowledge an insatiable appetite to know more, as if knowing more will somehow make everything be more easily controlled or solved. Alas, more knowledge of ecological issues only compounded my anxiety and left me feeling even more despondent about the future. I literally developed a deep profound hatred for humanity, a hatred that manifested in self-hatred and destructive behaviors. At first drinking was a way to assuage my feelings of fear, anger, grief, hopelessness, and helplessness, a means to bring levity to the whole fucked up shit show known as life and being human. The shallow vainer of alcohol only lubricated the depressive slope I was on, subsequently cartwheeling me into even darker depths. My mind fed on a steady diet of hopelessness, fumed at the rampant materialism of capitalism around me, castigated those closest to me for focusing on the simple pleasures of life, mocked and chastised all social groups except the most militant environmental advocates. I was unapologetic cynic and apathetic to the core. My reliance on alcohol was even more destitute as it was a means for momentarily silencing the oppressive, berating, vindictive voice within. Only, now six years sober do I recognize the caustic effects of unprocessed ecological grief. Literally, the first three years of sobriety were spent allowing myself to experience all the unprocessed grief, hours curled in a ball on a hard-wooden floor overcome by sadness. I recall driving home from work, beautiful blue sky and sunshine filling the Kootenai River valley and I’m totally overcome with sadness; tears streaming down my face, big red puffy eyes, heaving, unable to breathe. Sometimes, if I was totally present in the moment, I would recognize the origin of the grief but more often than not it was simply tears, free flowing tears. Despite allowing myself the space and time to be with my grief I still possessed lots of anger and judgement towards myself and humanity in regards to the ecological crisis of the Anthropocene. I occasionally found myself in silent diatribes lambasting a political figure or acquaintance about the dire situation of the Earth. Then recognizing the futility and ridiculousness of my silent soapbox I would turn the sharp lens inward, focusing on my own inability to change. Meditation, a consistent daily meditation practice has enabled me to gradually recognize these destructive habits and simply bear witness to their arising rather than getting caught in the web. Equally, important in my healing journey has been the practice of forgiveness and loving-kindness. I regularly practice forgiveness, forgiving myself for the harm I have committed towards the Earth, the next generations, and specifically my niece and nephew. I ask forgiveness of the Earth and all beings of the Earth. Forgiveness is the humbling act of acknowledging my humanity as well as the 10,000 joys and 10,000 sufferings of this human experience. Loving-kindness is the practice that gives me hope, instills in me the infinite possibilities that lay beyond the capacity of knowledge and the human mind. Loving-kindness helps me to recognize interconnectedness of all life and the beauty of living in this moment with a heart full of love. My journey from trauma to transcendence with ecological grief is still unfolding. Somedays I still experience overwhelm, hopelessness, and helplessness but now I have the capacity to be with these emotions to hold them gently with a kind, loving, and compassionate heart. Somedays I’m overwhelmed with the immense gift that the ecological crisis has placed before humanity; the incredible opportunity to consciously choose to awaken and consciously choose to live in harmony with the Earth. WOW, what an amazing opportunity we have to completely reimagine our relationship with self, others, and all of life. Somedays I simply marvel at the blessing it is to have life in the human form and experience the Earth, the magic of this planet and all the amazing iterations it has experienced in my short lifetime.
Standing on the platform
Twilight hour
Station master has gone home to bed
Lonely platform in a desolate land
Skeleton trees leer long shadows
In the fading light
A cold north wind, disturbs desiccated leaves
They scurry across the track
No souls are about
The bench is forlorn in a hollow steeple
Ticket booth proclaims
ONE WAY ONLY
There’s a ruffling of air
Across my neck
My top hat falls flat
Gallantly dressed
Glove
Scarf
Tailcoat
Cane
Shoes polished, a dark gleam
Once upright, upon retrieval of
My jumpy hat
There upon the backrest
A great grey owl
His head swivels left then right
Past and future, merging in one night
In the blink of my eye
He’s gone fast
In his stead
A bony hand extends
Headed out of town
Black diamond eyes twinkle an inqury
Hesitation shrinks my courage
Something else moves me forward
Come sit, while time lasts
Slow dirge of a shy sliver moon
Wispy clouds obscure a dark yearning
A creature of the night
Scuttles about out of sight
Low earthly mourn
The worms crawl home
Journey of the seasons
Onward march from one experience to another
Marked by the sun and the moon, leans into the shortening light
Last rays of October sun
Nestled beneath Chief Cliff
Glimmer and dance on a calm bay
Fingers of light lift gently off
Rolling brown grass slopes of Wild Horse Island
Silent marina, less than a dozen sailboats, rest in their slips
Unwinding of another season
Magic of wind, water, and light continues to nurture the soul
Call of the ancient mariner is not easily let go
There is the gentle roll, cadence of waves greeting the far shore
Patterning light, soft, warm
Does not belay the cold air
Ensconced in a down parka, down blanket
I sit in the cockpit of Moon Shadow
Relishing every moment on the water
Even in the harbor
Spirit of the gypsy sailboat speaks freedom
Winsome wanderer of the wind
No limits within
There was a restless urging to visit the mountains, the familiar mountains of home. There was a desire to consciously experience the forest, the streams, the wild in a new way. The intention was to embody the elements of the landscape, tune to an awareness vaster and timeless. With curiosity I engaged this well-worn trail in Ceremony through sacred song.
I communicated to the Earth Keepers, the Ancestors of the land, the Wisdom Keepers, and Pachamama my intention. I allowed sacred song to hone my mind, body, and spirit to the consciousness of nature. First, I sang to the Earth, mother that holds and nourishes me. With joy her expansive loving embrace wrapped around me. The forest glowed softly, the moss and ferns inviting, the birds sweetly singing. Rich, deep, solid peace flowed through my body. The mind eased, the muscles relaxed, the spirit lifted. With grace and compassion my heart opened like clouds parting for the sun. I arrived in the present. The trail unfurled before me, new treasures emerging, gifts of simplicity, being. Magic shimmered at the periphery of vision, tingled at the tips of the fingers, giggled in the small streams, and teased the palette in the fresh aroma of rain on cedar.
Next, I sang the sacred song to the waters, the rivers flowing to the sea. Honing my mind, body, and spirit to the natural flow of the present moment. Easing into the space of letting go; letting go of expectations, ideas, the notion of past or future, any perceptions of knowing. Each stream crossing a meditation, a gateway that opened to the now. This present moment experienced embodied with heart. The song of the water amplified awareness, reverberated through the valley and my body. The cadence of water over rocks a purifying force. Vibrations rising, purging the mind of fractured thoughts, unnecessary obsessions, contrived purpose, and the false evidences appearing real. Threads of contemporary reality would emerge and dissolve, the detritus of flooding carried downstream. The mind would surrender to the song, lilt lightly on the infinite of present awareness, then wildly cascade over a steep boulder into the contrived mind story…”what if,” “I need to do,” “what about.” Another current would catch the mind, seamlessly merging being with the present. Emerging and dissolving, ebbing and flowing, a dance of the presence. Each stream crossing opening a new threshold of awareness, imparting wisdom and understanding.
As the trail steepened, moving closer to the lake destination I began to sing to the Apus. Calling on the Wisdom Keepers of the highest mountain tops, honing myself to the wisdom of the mountain. Again, consciousness shifted, transformed, embraced a depth never experienced before. Awareness exploded, cast beyond the forest, trail, streams, to Elephant Peak, Eagle Peak, St. Paul Peak, Lentz Peak, Dad’s Peak and more. The guardians of the valleys, the draws, the ridgelines came to focus. Their enduring presence, the longevity of their journey, the transit of time from eons ago to now. Only now there was a deep seated knowing of the mountain within. Storms come and go, weather erodes rock, water carves the landscape, trees take root, animals create paths and yet the mountain resides in stillness. The concept of time began to morph, some moments speeding up, punctuated with expressions of AH HA. Other times slowed, crawled, paused, highlighting the simple beauty of shifting shades of green, the multitude of leaf shapes overlapping. Witnessing a daddy long-legged spider navigate the maze of leaves, feeling, sensing each step.
It was as if the mountains strung pearls of wisdom along the trail. Tidbits exploded in the awareness honed by sacred song. Pebbles dropped into the pool of consciousness rippled outwards transforming dimensions. Emerging from the center of stillness, St Paul Peak, radiating exuberant joy and gratitude. Honoring the mountain, bountiful gifts of support and protection. Meditating with the mountain, sensing, feeling uplift, growth, towering, the grounding, solid, stable, enduring, resolute, reaching for the sky. Melting with the waters, flowing with the waterfalls, letting go, letting go, surrendering. Sojourn to the lake. Settling, resting, balancing, peaceful, serenity in being. Again, rising with the mountain, ascending, growing. Then melting, flowing, descending. Coming home, being, witnessing, the lake. Cycles, cycles of life and death, being and doing, conscious and unconscious. Yet, always in the now, here, the present.
Wild Woman of the Mountains
Rustling leaves, wind in the Poplar Trees
Awakening
Morning light
Slant eyed
Peering between storm clouds
Piliated Woodpecker knocking
Fresh pressed, black coffee
Steams in a second-hand mug
Bare feet rest on a dew drop lawn
Hallowed mountains bathe in tangerine and lemon
A familiar voice whispers from the highest mountain top
Deep soul yearning
Yawns
Stretches
Casting sideway glances
Wild Woman knows the calling
Always a receptive child, learning
Backpack sitting by the door
Impulsive visionary
Serendipity
Intuition, Earth Wisdom
Cast off the domestic comforts
Wild Woman of the Mountains
Knowingly
Heartily
Embraces the storm
Mountain goat scramble
Quartzite cliff bands and beargrass ribbons entwine
Tempest brewing, howling, frothing waters edge
Mother abides, encouraging and warning
Your journey is safe
Make hast
Do not delay
Spiritual guidance, swift eagle wings, high on the thermals
Bring serene clarity
Talus cauldron
Shallow lake basin
Anchoring
Thanksgiving
I give thanks for the EARTH, our home,
The mother that holds us and nourishes us
I give thanks for humanity, the shared experience,
Being human
I give thanks for impermanence,
The arising and dissolving of phenomena
The temporality of the body,
The fragility of life,
The consistency of change
I give thanks for the unknown
The unknowable
The mystery
The infinite possibility that resides in each moment
The witness of being
I give thanks for the uncomfortable
The challenging emotions, destructive thoughts,
Vitriolic people, confounding situations
The opportunities to step out of my cocoon,
Shelter of conditioning
They compel me to stretch, to grow, to learn
I give thanks for the rebels, dissidents
Malcontents, visionaries
Waterkeepers
All that are willing to stand up to the status quo
Proudly proclaim there is another way
Those who give voice to the marginalized, the forgotten,
The oppressed and subjugated
I give thanks for the leaders with HEART,
The courage to be compassionate,
Accepting,
Forgiving,
Kind
Those who realize we are stronger
When we befriend
When we lend a helping hand
When we embrace humanity
Our brothers and sisters
I give thanks for all the beings in my life
Who remind me
It is the small things that matter
The comforting voice of a friend
When I don’t believe in myself again
The twinkle in the eye
When we smile at each other
Passing on the street
The warmth of the sun
On a cold autumn morning
Cup of coffee in hand
The sound of water
Weaving among the rocks
Great journey to the sea
I give thanks for life.
It is precious in all forms.
Neutered Lands
Oh, we wear our hats tall
Proud conquerors of the land
Quick to prove our mettle
Lest someone question our frontier ways
Oh, yes we are descendants of
The fearless and brave
Adventuresome mountain men
Who forged a way through the dark, primal, forest
Hacked down
Cut down
Tilled under
All vestiges of the wild
Oh, we wear our rugged John Bridger badges
Professing a love for and understanding of the West
YET, let’s remember it was us who neutered the land
Parceled it out in neat little squares
Fine borders and edges around every piece
90 degrees
Straight lines
Barbwire defines
We blazed trails
Blasted roads
Damned and diverted rivers
Dissected mountains
Contrived labels and notations
Applied signs and directions
Anything wild and free
Buffalo
Wolves
Salmon
Grizzly Bears
Shot on site
Poisoned
Trapped
Muzzled and contained
Quickly shuttled back in the box
Managed
Manipulated
Oh, we wear our rugged machismo
On chests of bravado
Boisterous, bombastic, belittling
All can hear the cacophony chorus of fear
As we cower before true wildness
Truth be told
The wild west persona
Is a myth
Promogulated by dime store novels
Continuously clung to by vestiges of men
For we are incapable of operating in
The unpredictable
The unmanageable
Vast uncertainty of Wilderness
We sacrificed our own wilderness a long time ago
Enchanted by comfort
Enchanted by security
Enchanted by predictability
We neutered our souls
Welcome to the neutered lands
Once Upon A Time
Isn’t that how all great fairytales start?
There was a woman
Who hid from herself
The shadow more appealing
Than the daylight leering
Soul shrouded in tatters
Doubting mirth and divine birth
Easier to contrive another disguise
Some heartless excuse
Self-abuse
Mindless shadow tentacles
Clasp, grasp, hold fast
Suffocating thoughts
Paralyze the heart
Small mind discerning
High cost of fearing
Drifting in the mire
What of this desire
To be free to be me
Once Upon A Time
There was a woman
Who came face to face with her inner dragon
Stowed away
In the deep dark caverns
The belly of the mountains
Fierce heat burning
Cauldron of power
Treasured lair
No sword for slaying
Only bare hands for holding
Naked soul of compassion
Leaning in
Once Upon A Time
There was a woman
Cast off comforts of certainty
Adventuring the unknown
Carried on the wind
True compass direction
Gently embraced the power within
WHAT IS MINDFULNESS MEDITATION?
WHY DO WE PRACTICE IT?
Mindfulness is a state of awareness to the present moment experience. Mindfulness is being fully present and alive; complete embodiment of the body and mind. Moment by moment awareness of our thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations, and the surrounding environment. Mindfulness embraces the present non-judgmentally with loving-kindness. Mindfulness is the natural presence we experience when fully awake, open, and tender. It is the serenity experienced laying in the middle of a field on summer evening watching shooting stars zip and zing across the sky.
Meditation is a practice of training the attention. It enables us to recognize the conditioned mind and habitual thinking that keep us trapped in suffering. Meditation encompasses a variety of forms for quieting the mind and opening the heart. Meditation may include contemplative, concentration, observational, listening, visualization, and mantras; each practice is specific to fostering awakening, understanding, and compassion.
Practicing mindfulness meditation opens us to fullness of life. To embody the totality of the human experience means embracing everything that arises as is, there is neither grasping after the pleasant moments nor aversion to the unpleasant moments. Rather mindfulness meditation opens us to experiencing life free from the discursive thinking, evaluation or habitual reactivity. Instead of being tossed about by the waves of life like a ship on the sea, we develop the capacity to witness the waves and sink into the deep stillness of the ocean. We can recognize the waves as being ephemeral yet the deep ocean remains unchanged.
In order to experience the true joy, equanimity, compassion, and loving-kindness of this life we need to understand our own mind. Understanding the mind evolves over the continuous observation of the mind. The more attuned and aware we become of our own proclivities the more apt we are to respond from a place of loving-kindness. Responding kindly and gently to ourselves opens the door to a secret garden of infinity and timelessness. New insights arise, the heart blossoms, and the immense blessing of this life in human form unfolds.
The more we commit to our practice, commit to exploring our self, the more we experience the wellspring of being, and simply being is peaceful.
Serpent Spirit
Prickly pear, pin cushion, saguaro
Slim shadow, spartan shade
Still serpent coiled
Drumbeat, pulsing in the desert heat
Red quartz sand, radiating techno-color waves
Slowly succumbing to the inevitable shedding
Gently laying my belly upon the Earth
Eyesight equilibrating, pointed peripheral vision
Honing my taste to the dry air
Quick flicks of my tongue
Discern the rodent trail before my lair
My heart nestled on the bust of the Earth
Recognizes the one true rhythm in the loving embrace
You are burning inside my heart center
Cosmic storm, solar flares, nuclear fusion
Microscopic particles colliding
Serpent of fire
Combusting limitations, inhibitions
Citrine and carnelian scales vibrate
Helix unwinds and undulates
Sensuous sidewinder dance, belly to belly
Serpentine slither, loosens the old
Old skin shedding
Stripping the past off
Desert tombstone
Stone cairn
Demarcating
The passing
Challenging, physically, exhausting
Raw vulnerability
Exposing the soul
Ancient contracts, brittle with time
Long awaited, deep healing
Ebony feathered death messenger
Vultures circling
Keen sight spying, subtle sand shifting
Sad story of the past clinging on…
Brittle skin, peeling, flaking, snaking behind
Solar heat emanating
Solid enduring stone
Fortitude when I am alone
Swift wispy cloud, your shadow drifting by
Never glancing down to the ground below
Fresh scales, tender to the touch
Fresh scales, sensitive to the harsh desert
I am bare
Shade slinking, shriveling, disappearing
Sun burning down from high noon
No escape from shedding
Sidewinder dance belly to belly with the Great Mother
Husk of skin stretched, desiccated
Caught on a cactus thorn
Serpent of fire returning
To the beginning
Knowing No More
The thoughts hang in my mind
Weighted turpentine
Voracious feast morphed into a famine
Hunger no more for knowing
Empty calories, mind binge
Leaves me feeling worse than to begin
Compulsion, a skeleton of addiction
Aided and encouraged in a serious delirium
Obsessive consumerism knowing
Never enough, always something new
Keeping up with the Jones’s
All manner of gadgets ding and ping
Calling attention to something needs to be known
Exhausting repetition, disturbs being
Everyone wanting to know
What are you doing
Nothing, I gave up knowing
Simply being alive in the moment
No need for anything, only that
Knowing No More