“Marry me? Do you know what that means?”
“Yeah, because you got a heart.”
And that heart melted and he ran away.
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.
Take a deep breath,
Relax and sink,
And experience the strength of softness
“Yes we can!”
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?”
“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.
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.
And I did not fall,
But my body, a rainbow, stretched itself across the sky,
Married with the destruction beneath,
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,
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.
Came to me as mother
Calmly tucking me into bed
Telling me my story,
How I was born,
How I’ve lived,
Where I am now,
And no prophecies of what is to come,
So that I could sleep and rest,
For I am traveling to a new old place,
After shedding skin,
Pushing past the cycle
To new growth,
Finally giving the child in me
Solace that she had seeked,
Like Alice, strayed her path
For shiny glittery roads that promised untamed heart,
As if she would have embarked on the very same Odyssey to Circe
Amongst the swine and wine until the child forgot.
But the dark side of the moon,
She pulled the child out of her hiding place,
And silenced all her dreams.
So the monsters disappeared and she can sleep in peace.
Her vile and brooding,
Manipulative and moody.
Both of us She Wolves
And though I cringe each time I hear her shrill yap and and feel her incoherent vehement spew,
I thank the universe for showing me what I could have been,
Because we two are she wolves alike in purpose,
Though if I were to have fed my fears rather than nourish my love,
I could see how I might howl with rage like a beast at the height of night.
My shadow and light are of the same essence,
So I must remember to always see it clearly,
And feel the beast, but feed the divine
Giving gratitude to that divine power that shows me these lessons
And shed into that which floats to light.
I listened to NPR all day hoping to find some sort of justification.
As I processed I moved through feelings of anger, grief, sadness, but at moments acceptance.
This morning I woke up and spent sometime meditating after dropping Elijah off at school.
Then I realized something and couldn’t help but laugh.
I didn’t believe that Clinton being elected was a solution to anything except that it just meant a vulgar racist narcissist like Trump wouldn’t be possible.
Even more clear was the realization that she was like “settling” with a relationship because I was comfortable.
So then in my silence, I understood the emotions I felt yesterday and realized Trump is Americas rebound.
In my own past, I’ve rebounded low (though not quite so low as Trump) after ending what I thought was beautiful in order to be ready for the transformation that comes later.
The rebound tends to dangle pretty, yet empty promises, and it is often mediocre compared to what you had just experienced, however that is the appeal.
Sometimes the rebound is gross and vulgar because you are afraid to put faith in someone you want to love just to be disappointed again and again.
In this realization, I laughed and the heaviness lifted.
So Trump is the rebound which leaves me to believe that this can move us in a direction for even greater progress and make us ready for someone as progressive as Sanders.
It is just a part of of the shift.
The dread I felt was real.
The fear I felt was real.
I keep flip flopping back and forth to stay positive and then knowing how horrible this actually is.
On one hand, my 2 year old woke up happy as ever, saying,”I’m hungry mom.” As he does every morning to wake me up. He sang Twinkle Twinkle in the morning. He laughs and hugs me and tells me how much he loves me. And for this I want to move forth from a place of love and peace.
On the other hand, Trump made promises that I hope he cannot keep. For some, more than others, this is valid fear they are feeling. I feel it is insensitive to ignore that our brothers and sisters and walking around in fear of what might happen to them and their families. Trump began this race igniting fear and scapegoating one side of America that he had no part of. I can not just say, we just have to stay positive because now is the time to be even more vigilant and fight harder and stand taller. We need to acknowledge that this is real and not just hope it will all be ok.
So I’m torn.
The clock ticks.
It sounds the same,
It does not feel the same.
My heart is heavy,
But it is still filled with love
And that love is telling me that it is right to feel pain and loss as much as it is ok to laugh and sing songs with my children.