3.15.18 The Freeing of Our Essential Self

Self-doubt and self-recrimination exist in direct proportion 

to the volume of unacknowledged unaccepted unwitnessed 

emotions and experiences we hold, imprisoned, within us. 

As we learn to greet the day and welcome with mindfulness 

a few thoughts and feelings that rise up into our awareness,

 and be with them, without thinking, feeling them , 

we begin learning to identify each as "THAT is a feeling" 

or "THAT is a thought".

We begin to be inclusive of our entirety. 

We begin to whittle down the backlog of 

stuffed and discomfited and stored tough stuff 

we knew not what to do with. 

We begin to compost it all down, 

transforming it from the distress we turn away from, 

to that which we lovingly pull close, toward our essential self.

3.14.18 Huh. Narcissists. Psychopaths.

Huh. “Since [narcissists, psychopaths] ,deep down, feel themselves to be faultless,
 it is inevitable that when they are in conflict with the world 
they will invariably perceive the conflict as the world's fault. 

Since they must deny their own badness, they must perceive others as bad. 

They project their own evil onto the world. 
They never think of themselves as evil;
on the other hand, they consequently see much evil in others."

M. Scott Peck

Addendum: And yet, don't forget, you can tell how aware they in fact are
by how they know what to hide.

3.14.18 No matter

Down by the farmers fields the hawks were pairing up, two by two. 
The buds on trees were growing, no matter how many northeasters sweeping through. 
So up we got and on we went, down to the stark quiet beauty of the riverside. 
Where both dogs romped and wandered and hunted, 
and our hearts filled with that which is true.

3.13.18 Hit the air

Sometimes talking about something
is necessary
To kill its power
To let the truth hit the air

3.13.18 Learning to just say Yes

And so , each day, we learn to say Yes, to this too. 
This part of the river of our experience.
We turn toward this thought or this feeling, 
that moment or comment or circumstance or choice. 
With patience and with tender compassion. 
Letting our love sink beneath the tumulus waves of today, 
down down to the momentous old depths.
As Thich Nhat Hanh likes to say to himself,
‘Darling, I am here with you, in this.’

3.13.18 Home home on the range

3.13.18 Know you are true

Be soothed, when you wake
honest and loving and true
Know you reside in your own fine life
of your own making
As you breach the edge of the winter field
the cusp of the spring season
the true song of your summer soul

3.13.18 I swayed my leaves

Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun,
Now may I wither into the truth.
— William Butler Yeats

3.12.18 Still

Even in the freezing rain, 
the pricking winter winds or on the face-stinging walks, 
still, outside, we are happy as a pig in mud.

3.12.18 Stupid Sneaky Sleazy Bimbo Crap

I was talking with some friends the other day, about the process we sometimes go through, right? Of being your own true honest self. 

Because somehow, in the quiet process of being myself, I had been inadvertently provoking the reveal of many on the sidelines, who had been watching and listening and feeding. I had no idea. 


One of my friends, upon learning this strange perverted news, laughed, said 
‘Oh glory, they’re just perched there, reading/feeding on your goodness, all these years?!’

And I laughed too, shoved them shoulder to shoulder, til I realized they were right.
‘Geeze’, I groaned , rubbing my eyes. ‘Yuck. Gross.’ How empty and despicable.

‘Ha!’ She said to me, watching me sigh.
‘So when there’s drooling watchers, making believe they could be you, you just living and writing your direct self is going to puff them all up, little defensive linebackers. They’re going to pop out, pissed off and guilty and justifying . Pretty funny, girl.’

‘Pfft.’ I muttered. Disgusted. ‘How this crap just goes on!’

She was sitting next to me, laughing.

‘Oh, those poor bags of sleeze. Yup.
And you, my dear, just being you.’

‘Oh goodness’, I thought to myself. ‘I’m not any kind of hunter. ‘
All this inadvertent flushing out of bimbocrap , from shadows I didn’t even know existed. 

‘Oh my.’ quoth the reluctant warrior.
This flushing of germs, weasels.
Stirring the pot of wannabes. 
What wretched company to find oneself next to.

But then she just took my arm, and squeezed her friendship into me, 
and everything once again was good.

3.12.18 The Small Winter Song

Down by the farmers fields, as we slowly round the turn toward middle March, 

at least for the moment, the snow is slowly slipping away.

 Down, down into the earth, where it turns into the water table, 

that protects and enables all living things. 

So we think about this, as we walk along. 

Quiet, in a peaceful honest song.

3.12.18 Chump Nation

In the midst of other’s old and new wrong doing, 
of perverse encounters with them justifying their guilt, 
still, we each shall know our own true blue selves. 

I say to you, check your integrity. 
Be brazenly honest with yourself. 
With your intent and your honesty and your goodness. 
And then simply carry on. 

And out there, those that fabricate justifications and 
try to assuage festering guilt and shame and hopes that
you will not continue these patently deceptive ways?
Yeah, I mean you.

On , past those who dream they are not as good,
 as their own conscience aches and twists.
On, past those who prefabricate 
and assert guilt-swollen defensiveness, to no avail. 

Past those aching from past ways they harmed you,
 in their hearts, in their quiet stilled bitter actions. 

Beyond those who suddenly find themselves 
lying in the stink bed of their own making. 

For, they are angry to discover that there you are, 
saying your peace. 
Being your kind true self. 
Walking your road in your own integrity of word and deed. 

Oh, they might angrily reach out, 
under one pretense or another, to share their soiled secrets. 
Trying to burn you with their perverse stories, of what they did.

But today, they are somehow surprised. 
To find themselves twisting in the wind of their own embittered making. 

They show up like their own bad dream, 
to see if they can cut you a bit or tear you some. 
Never having imagined they’d been set up
 to have nothing and no one,
 in the mean cluttered game they played. 

You, fine Aikido Mama, you just carry on. 

Step aside when they hurl themselves your way.

Do not falter or question or look at them.

For they chose the not-true path, their twisted ways.
They are nothing, and this they know. 

Be soothed, as you wake honest and loving and true. 

Know you reside in your own fine life of your own making. 

As you breach the edge of the winter field, 
the cusp of the spring season, 
the true song of your summer soul.

Chump Nation lives on.

3.12.18 Learn Baby Learn

There are so many times in our lives 
when what is going down is tough 
and so much like a lesson 
that we might as well face it as one, 
and learn, baby, learn.

3.12.18 A Favorite

A nothing day full of
wild beauty
The timer pings. Roll up
the silver off the bay
take down the clouds
sort the spruce and
send to laundry Goodbye
golden- and silver-
rod, asters, bayberry
crisp in elegance.
Little fish stream
by, a river in water.

JAMES Schuyler

3.10.18 As Dogs Scramble

Early on, as dogs scramble 
and roll and dig 
and wander across the fields 
and into the sleeping winter woods, 
the dawn arrives, 
and shines down upon 
it all.

3.9.18 The Wayfaring Moon

In the name of daybreak
The eyelids of morning
And the wayfaring moon
And the night when it departs

I swear I will not dishonor my soul with hatred
But offer myself humbly
As a guardian of nature
As a healer of misery
As a messenger of wonder 
As an architect of peace

In the name of the sun and its mirrors
In the uttermost night
And the crowning seasons of the firefly and the apple

I will honor all life
Wherever and in whatever form it may dwell
On earth my home
And In the mansions of the stars

Tara Brach

3.8.18 Sometimes

When you're just going around
keeping your head above water
Doing the best you can

Sometimes
this is what 
managing really well
looks like.

3.8.18 The Vast Anonymous Beauty

Down below, the recent rains collected as a small pond,
 around the trunks of trees, of young saplings. 

Here, the deep russets and ochre shine. 
Here, the frozen wind rushes about, 
as we carefully make our way amongst 
the vast anonymous beauty.

3.7.18 A Side Dish of Honesty

Things have been warm and close and chemistry filled, 
with a side dish of honesty. 
Of thoughtful caring. 
Laughter, and delight. 

So we all wandered down to the farmers fields, 
awash in what Integrity actually walks and talks and looks
like. 

Actions speak louder than any words. 

So we happily tromped along, 
in the beauty of the day we have been given.

3.2.18 Not Like That

The task is not to shove ourselves 

into having enough courage 

to manage something in our life, 

no matter what the cost to ourselves,

 or the run off impact on others. 

That’s a misunderstanding.

The deal is to continuously make choices 

and seek out resources 

that slowly develop 

so much stability and balance within us, 

that when we need to rise up 

and greet difficult circumstances 

with great courage and endurance 

and strength, 

we can do so 

without harming ourselves, 

or others.

2.27.18 With and Without

“Peace is this moment, without thinking it should be some other way . 

That you should feel some other thing. 

That your life should unfold according to your plans. 

Peace is this moment without judgement . 

This moment, in the heartspace. 

Where everything that is is welcome. “ 

Dorothy Hunt

2.27.18 It Was

dark and warm
down by the farmers fields