10.19.14 I'm Not Even Certain

I'm not even certain what we are to do 

with difficulty; difficulty that

haunts our waking and our meal making and our

hours at work and our cleaning up things even when

there are not small people to

care for anymore.

I'm largely uncertain how we may

encounter the uneasiness; sometimes

it seems our human brains are

just big enough to cause

problems and not enough to

be capable of sensing the

big picture.

In the meantime, there you are over there and

I'm here, still, making sense of my

fingers as they cut squash and

puzzle out the dusk

 as it falls and falls again upon

one more irrevocably

 glorious day.

10.19.14 What I Notice In The Forest

There is this way in which, each fall, the time stretching into winter , the Maple leaves dry into a bright golden brown, and in falling, become caught in the grand branches of the Pines and the Fir and the Spruce, and lay there in amongst all of the green.

The most vivid decorations, in the morning and evening's golden light. 

We have the answering call, of the Pine needles, which dry into long elegant light clusters, and fall downward, catching upon the Maples, and too, the Oak and Beech ; tender hanging clusters of needles fluttering gently in the wind. The whole of the Maples, now bare, decorated so beautifully. 

And so, from fall into winter, the two live side-by-side; the Evergreens- , the Pines, the Fir, the Spruce, and then the Maples and Beech and Oaks . 

And you'll walk through areas of forest, and come upon these trees, decorating each other, the leaves and Pine needles burnished golden, strewn about each other, shining on a frozen white winter's day.

10.18.14 nascent frosting upon the cake

It was a wet walk; there was a BFF Malinois Shepherd, her butterscotch fur all tangled in his as they hurtled through the woods. 
As we talked, of offspring and practices and writing, 
the long dirt road unfurling before us- curving as New England roads do... 

It was a wet walk; there was a BFF Malinois Shepherd, her butterscotch fur all tangled in his as they hurtled through the woods. 
As we talked, of offspring and practices and writing, 
the long dirt road unfurling before us- 
curving as New England roads do... 
And the rain paused while the pups raced and caught each other by the neck, she faster by quite a bit, til they'd 
stop, all suddenly- pause, breathing hard, next to each other, just knowing how to do this: this dog thing,
unspoken, til suddenly some far off bell must've rung because off they went, like a shot,
tearing through the underbrush,



as we walked on, ah- we were both so
wild in younger days; now, so broken in and staid,
though she must be 10 years younger than I; still we
somehow fell in together. 

And, well, literate and smart as a whip she is;
and young aggressive Shepherds need to wrestle so..
On we will go, the company such nascent frosting upon the cake .

10.18.14 Underwater Series Continued

10.18.14 "Into The Darker Circles of Return"

Within the circles of our lives we dance the circles of the years,
 the circles of the seasons within the circles of the years,
the cycles of the moon within the circles of the seasons,
the circles of our reasons within the cycles of the moon.

Again, again we come and go,changed, changing. 
Hands join, unjoin in love and fear,grief and joy. 
The circles turn,each giving into each, into all.

Only music keeps us here,each by all the others held.
In the hold of hands and eyes we turn in pairs, 
that joining joining each to all again.

And then we turn aside, alone,out of the sunlight gone

into the darker circles of return."

-Wendell Berry

10.16.14 At 18 I Listened to Gloria Steinem in Central Park: Words Matter

At 18, I listened to Gloria Steinem speak in Central Park, telling so many of us to wake up and notice the labeling of 'he' and 'she' throughout our culture, as a limitation. A political decision. About power. 
'He' serving to represent both sexes, purportedly.
     I fell in love with a lefty who was studying Sexual Politics. I studied history and how 'they' was the operative pronoun, singular or plural, til the 7th century.
     How pronoun use ensured education for males and not females .
     How remediating pronouns back solely to 'He' in laws managed at one point in US history to disenfranchise all female doctors.
      studiously used 'they' and 'them' raising my children.
     Making note of gender, without cause, is akin to making note of RACE or CLASS or sexual orientation, among a few other things. Often, these delineations are simply not pertinent. And often serve as quiet ways of pointing out a person 'a race or sex or sexual orientation or height or age or ethnic origins.
     I changed my children's books, 'he 'and 'she ' to they.
     Those were the days, 35 years ago, when every female animal character in a kid's book had a BOW on their head ,to let you know their sex.
     I was told pink gowns on my infants would 'Turn' the boys gay. 'Wow!' I'd reply. 'Its just like that, is it?!'
Language is powerful. Language is used for power. Language is not something organic, risen up,virgin birth.
I     t's something that reflects culture, impacts culture, and with awareness, words utilized to control and harm and oppress can be taken back, as we fought to take back the night .
     Words matter. Words impact us deeply.
     As such, the gender awareness with regards to language taking place in the world is one more welcome small step toward accuracy and options for all.

10.15.14 Did You Ever Awaken

Do you ever waken, as it slowly comes to you, this day, and not often, that today actually feels like a brand new day?

Like many things ,that often do not seem possible, today are?

It's such a singular feeling, and one that can 

be fostered by us taking care...of ourselves. Our lives.
But there are no guarantees. No passing GO and collecting a deep sense of possibility. 

So when the sense of this comes to us, as we open our eyes and orient ourselves to our self, our body, our circumstance, our day before us, 

and this brings with it that impending feeling of openness- of ability- 

as if the weight of living was lessened in sleep somehow,

as if ease replaced fatigue and responsibility and slowly learning to accept difficult, uncomfortable things, 

well then, what a fine day it is. This day.