Resilient

Resilience

Instinctively we want to draw in and close up into a tight ball as if our body’s a fist to protect the softness within. 

Yet if we open up and let the whole body soften so that whatever tramples upon us moves right over us and we become unbreakable rather than impenetrable. 

Open up,

Take a deep breath,

Relax and sink,

And experience the strength of softness

Then,

“Yes we can!”

“The Giving Tree” revisited 

“The Giving Tree” revisited 
His new favorite book is “The Giving Tree”

It’s the first book my dad bought me. I remember staying home sick from school one day because I wanted to go to work with him. Back then my dad had like 5 jobs to support my family and one was cleaning homes. I begged and begged to wash the windows because the squeegee looked like fun. He let me do a window and I read “The Giving Tree” over and over again on a porch until I could read it so fast that I didn’t have to pause to turn the page. 

     “Mom. Can you read “The Giving Tree” 

“Of course.” I respond with warmth because I love the book so much.” As I read, he finished the sentences because we read it over and over again. I have tears streaming down my face.

He says,”and the tree loved the boy,” in his loud, strong voice,”very much! Mom! Mom! You be the giving tree, and I’ll be the boy. You say, come, eat my apples!”

And we reenact each page and I’m laughing and crying,”hey, but don’t leave me and take all my apples and cut my trunk. How does the tree look?”

“The tree is happy, but but but she looks sad.” He says empathetically. “Mom, but I want to a boat! Can you give me a boat?”

“Sure baby!”

“No, you say, ‘I don’t have a boat.”

“Ok,” I say in my high motherly giving tree voice, “but I don’t have a boat. You can cut down my trunk and make a boat. Then you can sail far far away from here. And you will be happy.”

He hugs me with that smile where his whole face smiles. And I cry. 

Making Rainbows 

The storm came violently tearing through 

Ripping roots and smashing structures. 

My temple, once safe and trusted,

Failing me and slowly desecrating its disease into my heaven. 

The storm flurried with the beat of my erratic heart. 

Pushing me up and down until I found myself at the edge of a cliff facing what I thought could be the end. 

And at its peak, with majestic trees falling and sacred structures burning to return once again to the soil, 

I realized that I am not afraid and I sat down on that edge,

The storm moved into the eye and it became silent,

At the center of destruction

Everything became clear,

And I was offered peace in the knowledge that I am not afraid to take that leap, although a little sad to leave the temple I love. 

I laid still, eyes wide open, staring into the open sky,

Arms spread wide,

Legs spread wide,

As if making snow angles in soot and ash,

Smiling and lifting my belly to make rainbows,

Right in the center of the storm. 
It passed,

And I did not fall,

But my body, a rainbow, stretched itself across the sky,

Married with the destruction beneath,

Hideously beautiful. 

Musingnude #17

Dialogues over dinner 

With my procreator,

We admittedly feel a calmness

Rare to our psyche. 

Unclear of what that means,

Peace, consequently, has settled in

Though Gods voice is still,

And Indeterminable 

to the affect of art.

Maybe a step towards heaven,

In clarity and productivity,

Or a fall towards hell,

Uninspired and empty. 

I am here,

At the very least.