Last year at this time my partner and I were in New Orleans. It was my first time there – well sort of. My parents will tell you that my essence was actually created there – I was a “honeymoon baby” and New Orleans happened to be one of the stops on their journey cross-county. So, I guess it was my second time there.
I was there to recruit a new employee and attend a national conference. My partner was there to eat, visit friends, listen to music, eat some more and catch fish. I had moments in between interviews and conference sessions to walk the streets of New Orleans and hear the sounds, smell the aromas, taste the sweetness and be nourished by the creative expressions of humanity that permeated every space. There was something soothing and reassuring about this place. Maybe it was the music, maybe the art, maybe the food, maybe the spirit of determination. Perhaps it was all the colors on the doorways that screamed out boldly. They seemed to say, "You can try and tear us down, you can try to drown this place but we will rise and find the crevices in the concrete and we will break through and blossom, and create beauty.” Yes, I think that is what I heard them saying. It was so easy to feel fully alive in this place. All my senses were on fire, searching for meaning in every color, taste and sound. Meaning so rich and full that it had to be sung on the streets. Meaning so essential it has to be howled through open-doored taverns. Meaning so beautiful it had to be splashed on canvases that were carried to the curb for all to see. The city was generous to share all this with us, outsiders. The truth that New Orleans was longing to share became more alive every time the sounds touched our ears or the vivid colors whispered to our eyes or the poignant flavors seeped into the taste buds of our soul. This is what I found on your streets. The words you sang through the string of your guitar and violin. They still haunt me. The rainbow expression on the entrances of your dwellings stood as painted doors to your soul. I could not walk past a single one without listening to its story. My partner traversed blocks ahead weary of my halting every time a doorway called my name. But I couldn’t resist. You were beckoning for me to listen. You had so much to say. It still rings in my ears. My heart is wider and my soul beats stronger whenever I recall your voice. Thank you. Oh, and yes, by the way we did find someone there to join our team – and she is as wonderfully amazing as the doors of New Orleans!
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Rich, dark, cool
I dig deep to loosen Crisp scent fills my voids Reaching down Pulling up a clod Creating space and warmth Beginning to clear and open to what will be Inviting newness Begging life to attempt Setting seed in a new dwelling space Exactly where each is meant to be To become, To blossom. With each tug and nudge in the soil I feel a tender pull and invitation from within Deep in the dark corners of my being the movement stirs and light soaks up the shadows Leaving swells of openness and potentiality Inviting newness Begging life to attempt I am the seed Placed exactly where I am meant to be Becoming, Blossoming. In my garden I dig deep to loosen the soil In my garden I dig deep to loosen my soul Serendipitously as I rode to a yoga retreat to celebrate my birthday my dove "fortune" was "Be Proud of Your Age"
I have a birthday approaching that ends in a “0” and with it brings both reflection and a bit of pressure to demonize aging. I am working to resist the urge to give into the cultural sensationalism of youthfulness and to celebrate my new decade. I offer this reflection about some of the physical reminders of aging –with gratitude and smiles. May you enjoy every moment you are blessed with to grow old… Wrinkles by Christy Huynh Mapped out Veer right Turn sharp left The crevices are clear paths Unique to all the universe Indents of sorrow, joy Sunburst and whips of wind Stories told and defined Deep and well kept Pressure to cover, erase Hidden in shame Misunderstood as damaged Swells of embarrassment It is a pity – for I understand You are a sign of Strength, endurance Miles of journeys Tap dances and Hollow caves Burning wishes unfulfilled And deepest assurances Of being right where you need to be Friendship, love Hearts broken New stories born All wrapped in Wrinkles upon my surface Proof of existence Signs of being Evidence of lives touched and Souls moved Time and time again Oh – praise thee wrinkles Beauty written as poems To remind all - Of all that is And was And is yet to become Celebrating entirety Let me not fall into vain clinging to what is never to be reached and grasped - What was. Trust that the rivers are flowing to deeper, bolder And more confident marks Moments written in time and displayed As a poetic song for all to see Gratitude wrapped in shroud of lines Covering me with blessings Consciousness, awareness, emotions….life. My understanding of all these concepts and realities has been shaped throughout my life by my experiences, my academics, my training, my own lens, my INFJ-ness, my personal relationship to others, my spirituality and my daily encounters with all that life offers. I am endlessly intrigued and always craving more knowledge and insight.
Recently, I had the privilege of listening to Coby Kozlowski @cobykozlowski www.cobyk.com while I was at Kripalu. She was discussing the “Six Qualities of Consciousness” and shared many profound insights and stories. It led me to reflect on the idea of “Riding the Wave” as a metaphor for how to deeply and intentionally live life. I believe much of our lives we are working to protect and guard ourselves from the waves. I know I do so much of the time. I think there is a liberation and authenticity in riding the waves…at the very least attempting to do so…happy surfing! Riding the Wave My deepest grief will be match by my deepest joy In order to dance deftly in the rain finding bliss I must sink deep into dark, consuming pain Riding the wave Up and Down To sit in stillness, peace filling every crevice Moving into grounded-ness cuddled by blossoms of sweetness There must be a willingness to also step into the unknown Breathing short gasps between anxious waves of doubt washing over me with deafening fear Only then Riding the wave Up and Down Tide sweeping back and forth Uncovering perfection on both sides of the continuum Skillfully engaging with all that the treacherous ocean offers Movement carrying to the heights and depths Trusting the fluctuation enough to glide into perpetual alliance The sacred dance between Light and dark Summer and winter Bliss and anger Joy and grief Jealousy and surrendering trust Riding the wave Up and Down Courageous enough to hold space for both To stay wrapped in the swirls that await Acknowledging and bowing to the sacredness it brings Honoring the perfection in both Anger and peace Fear and contentment Both perfect. Trusting the perfection with what is while simultaneously knowing new perfections await More perfection to come Always coming Always enough Dance between the perfections That which greets us this moment And that which is yet to come Basking in the awareness of all that is Dwelling in the hope for all that awaits If only in every moment willing to hold space Riding the wave Up and Down If I want to meet my deepest joy face to face I need to learn to embrace my deepest pain Riding the wave Up and Down |
AuthorSome times I write. Even less than "some" times I share what I write. For those moments that I write and want to share I have done so here. Archives
December 2017
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