writing – Generous Wisdom

I Say a Small Yes

after James Crews mini poetry retreat

I say a small yes

to writing

to myself as a young woman with passion raging
to myself as a teenager, growing, shrinking, consumed, and lonely
to myself as a child, pigtails & smiles, shirtless and laughing

and all the ways
I was writing always
in my heartspace
in my bodyspace
in my mindspace

all the ways
I was writing always
on my hand, soft with youth
on my napkin, torn with use
on my pages inside all my many books

all the ways
I was writing always
in that lab, thick with rules
in those word docs, filled with clues
in countless emails, rhythmic with my pulse-ing

I honor her

I say yes to her

to all her nuanced thoughts
and layered emotion
her complex feeling
and experiential living
to all her curious wonder
insight and
awe
all of her honored
and honoring
I say yes to her
in ways I never allowed
in ways I never knew how
I honor her now
inside this moment
inside this glittering
gravitational fabric stretching wide

I say yes to me now
to myself now
in all the ways my womanhood
always invites and allows now
these new and ever-unfolding
ways of being human.

I write inside my notebooks in each and every room
as I did before on bits of paper all over the car
as I did when I was young in journals falling asleep in bed
like the days before the internet
and now waking up in texts to friends
I won’t be stopped now
No thing will stop me now
Not him, not her, not them,
not me, not me, not even me, now
not even I, now,
will stop this flooding
circuit inside her conduit
connecting every constellation within reach
to the grounding energetic vibration of my roots
not too much for me, not too much for me
not too much for me

Now

The Shape of Sound

The shape of sound – cicadas’ buzz rippling in the air

The shape of shadow – falling angles of light from the house windows

The shape of breath – cylindrical
ribcage expansive, circular, contracting ribbons of bone

The shape of flower blossoms – doubled, orange begonias in an arc of crumpled fabric

The shape of sky – between leaves and branches, inverted butterflies

The shape of trees – moving in a wind I can’t feel

The shape of the hawk – rocketing out of the pine, arcing behind the house

The shape of space between the stars of succulents – always three curved angles

The shape of me? What shape do I make in the evening sky descending its shadowy deep blue light against my skin?

The shape of love – sometimes close, sometimes spacious – always pulsing, the vibrations rippling toward infinity.

There is so much to discover when we meditate on Shape.

Find your sit-spot. Just Be.

Notice the shape of sound, of texture, of air, of breath.

What shape do you make in the gorgeous sky?

What shapes are blossoming between your fingers, the lashes of your eyes, the parting of your lips, the curving angles of your sweet and precious toes, the arc of your nose?

What space, what shape does love make and take up in your living?

How is your heart’s spaciousness rippling toward infinity?

An Little Introduction to Under the Magnolia Tree: 30 Poem-Prompts for Meditation & Writing

I spent a month sitting under my magnolia tree. Not a month straight. A month of mornings. And it changed the way I live. On the inside.

Several years ago I completed a meditation teacher training that prepared me to teach meditation to young people in schools. It was another jump into one of the “deep” ends of meditation, as people say, and it was glorious. Glorious in its supportive container, its approach, framing, and guiding – an abundance of wisdom and a swaddling of fellow travelers along the path. We had head-teachers, cohort guides, and companions. We all taught and learned from each other.

After I completed my practicum and received my certification, I celebrated by getting my nose pierced. And after our final online gathering I felt the emptiness of losing that nest, the organized safety net with its deadlines and accountability, it’s scheduled gatherings and required reflections. I felt the lack of those supports and routines immediately – an unmooring. I didn’t want my new way of being to fade, so I decided I would meditate every morning for thirty minutes. And I did.

I’m doing that again to create a book for us. Something we can hold to help us remember that we are humans being in the midst of all our doing. I’ll post some pieces here and hope you’ll share some feedback to help me craft what is most needed for your own dive into the deep.

When you hold one hand in another
there is a heaviness
that is both light and solid

your hand, I mean,
I’m talking about when you
hold the weight of your own hand

resting one hand
inside the other
a nesting

Try it now ~

Cupping your hands
one inside the other
sense the weight of you

sense the weight of tenderness.

How tender is your care for your own sweet self?

Try resting your shoulders
and arms and let them be pulled
toward the earth…

Allow the gentle downward force of gravity
to be a soothing balm
like you’re setting down
every single thing you carry
every
single
day

the things you hold even in the night
in your sleep you’re carrying them ~

Just for now, just for this moment,
set down what you are carrying.

Try this ~

Notice the sensation of your feet
resting against the ground
the grass
the growing world.

Notice the sensation of your hips
resting in the seat of your chair
that’s resting against the ground
the grass
the growing world.

Notice the way the crown of your head
is floating into the sky
even as the the sides of your neck are softening
the tops of your shoulders sinking
and your arms
elbows
arms
wrists
hands
fingers are moving closer to the ground
the grass
the growing world.

Notice the sensation of being held by creation.

Even as your body stretches upward
with each of your breaths
your body relaxes downward
with each of your breaths

You are a growing being
resting against the ground
the grass
the growing world.

So as you nest your hand
inside your hand,
become the tender loving care of the creation that holds you
because you are what you have always longed for.
You belong to your own dear, sweet, and precious self,
a gift, from you to you.

Just for fun? Try this~

Notice if you’d like to switch the nest of your hands
allowing the other hand to be the cradle
of tenderness and loving care.

Feel the difference.
It is new. Awkward. Lighter Maybe?
It is similar. Odd. Fun Maybe?

Switch them back if you’d like.
Notice the ways you are opening into choice, ease, and freedom
inside the frame of this earth and sky,
this greening grounding
growing world.

You get to chose what your hands hold.
You get to chose which things you pick back up.
You get to chose to lift with your legs instead of your back.
You can allow the earth to lift you and all the things you choose to carry.

Remember that as much weight as presses down on her, the sweet, dear earth pushes back up just as much.

You are not alone.

How do you feel now?
What do you notice most?
What is resonating deep inside you?
What mysterious door have you walked through?

What is challenging you and what are the judgements your mind offers?

What kind of poem would you like to write now?

What kind of art would you like to create?

What kind of breath would you like to take?

xoxoxo,