Cave

My retreat, my solace,
Where my mind goes to escape
The ever-ambient stimuli and chatter 

It's my hiding place of sorts,
Usually, a welcome reprieve
Where time and thought are pure and reflective

My time to simply be,
To exist in a universe of my own creation,
To filter, percolate, and compose

The cave is an opportunity to explore 
The recesses of my mind
That have need of a visit or kind word.

Some days the shadows are imposing.
Self-reflection may not always be ominous or feared, 
But it is daunting on the days of self-doubt

On those days, the cobwebs in the corners are dense,
More like oil than water, 
Or muscle than fat, if you will.

The cave can be tricky,
Treacherous if one is not careful
Monitoring the surroundings for spiders or falling stalactites

The cave can be a paradise,
The water that sounds from the earth above,
The pyrite on the walls that catches a stray beam of sunlight

The bravura of the cave
Is that I can find it 
Whenever, or wherever I desire

No one, other than myself,
Can barricade the entrance 
Or by any other means prevent my escape from reality.

The cave is not a place for presumptions.
Though it provides clarity at present, 
It can clutter quickly, disturbing the peace and stillness

My rest, my restoration, and occasionally, my revelation,
Where I go when I have no control.
Here, it is safe to admit that I am vulnerable.

The place where the pragmatist can entertain the poet.
Idealism never suppressed, 
In the cave I am free to become myself.*


*Holla a'cha May Sarton

Tremble

This was saved as a draft from 3 years ago.  Much has been learned in the journey since then with beautiful memories abounding!

As I shared with you my truth,

The spirit within me fell

I looked on while you looked away

Torn apart, defeated, left an empty shell

Our walk along the pier

Those moments I will cherish

The fisherman, the birds, the clouds, the words

A calm before the storm and anguish

"For what it's worth, I will miss you"

On our way back from the lake

And "This is it" in your kitchen

Words said as hearts did break

Each of us searching

Our eyes filled with pain

My hands held your face

Tears fell without reign

In a goodbye so silent

Yet with more reverberation than a symbol

Your lips and mine

Met, and did tremble

Abundant Energies

"Our energies are too abundant for living indifferently"

~Abraham Joshua Heschel

Re-discovering this quote has changed the lens through which I am viewing certain aspects of life right now.

Example A:

The book I'm reading at present (The Me I Want to Be - John Ortberg), talks about surrender; how it is one of the hardest things to do, yet is the most liberating action we can take. The author offers a verbal description of the reflexive raising of arms and hands that occurs in victory or celebration. He then compares that to the posture of humility and surrender: kneeling, prone - our bodies expressing what is in our hearts. I've been on a yoga journey of late (loving the yogaglo.com website) and Ortberg's use of the word "posture" took my thoughts immediately to my yoga mat. Child's pose - surrender. Sun salutations - celebration: manifesting the heart through the body. Like whoa. Do I indifferently go through motions, or am I ardently using my energies to live most fully in that moment.

Considering this in conjunction with a recent conversation with Hoku about experiencing true appreciation for this vessel, this body, that I've been given has been transformational. I've never considered my yoga practice a spiritual act of worship (partly due to my discomfort with the association others have with the most-commonly cited religious affiliations of yoga and the questions, looks and concerns some folks tend to have with a Christian who does yoga). But it has become just that (creepin' myself out a bit here with all the yoga love - a bit excessive for me, but yoga and devotions and relationships are evolving together and the culmination is life-giving and beautiful). Final quote from the book (for now): "Exalted high in victory. Bent low is surrender. The two postures seem opposite, but Jesus understood that if you want to experience victory, you must start in surrender. Surrender brings power, and the need to surrender is deeply tied to Jesus' offer of living in the flow of the Spirit. You receive power through the act of surrender that you cannot obtain any other way; you receive freedom through submission that you will otherwise never know."

Mmkay. Then, I am reading this: Romans 12: 1-2 "Therefore I urge you brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God - this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." ...and I start to ponder what it might look like to offer my body as a living sacrifice. Those words create such a striking picture.

HOLY BALLS!

There are other things tied to the abundant energies theme, but perhaps this post is already too long; so those I will save for another blizzardy evening...

RUN FOR THE HILLS!

We did it! 13.1. miles in 2.13.57 - for cold, rainy, slippery trail running (and having a sore throat/runny nose) I'll take it with great joy.

Jaime wasn't able to run the actual trail (the race filled up before she could register) but she ran the roads around the park and had a nice 9 mile run herself! Megan came down from Madison and was a very welcome site at mile 9 when I was starting to fade.

Finished the race, stopped at Duncan for a blueberry coffee, came back to Chicago and spent the day with the Sandlin family (Jess included because he just happened to be in Chi-town for a conference, crazy!). We took the river architecture boat tour, ate at Corner Bakery, and enjoyed the beautiful fall day.

Like Bryan Adams, but a Woman

Laura Marling:

This girl's voice and lyrics are introspective, witty, and gripping; yes, all at once.

Examples:

"Give up and turn into my mother...God knows I really love her"

"I will never love a man, because love and pain go hand, and I just can't do it...again"

And, a shout out to Bryan Adams in the song...holla.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNxar07_9YA&feature=channel

Under the Mango Tree

Synchronicity at its finest:

While slicing mangos to dry in the dehydrator (yeah for second hand food processing items!) I decided to catch up on some "This American Life."

What was the topic you may ask?

MANGOS! No joke! As they pertain to poverty vs. prosperity in Haiti. Who knew that that mangos could become one of the most profitable exports for the country? Also, quite a controversial question: Could the earthquake have been the best thing that happened to the country? Now, hold on. I too was aghast, but hear this out. If the old way (NGO's putting out multiple small fires but often having funding cut before completion of a project) has left Haiti with increased levels of poverty year after year, could a new process, in which all eyes are now focused on re-vamping the entire countries interlocking systems, could this finally bring a new definition of relief? Or, I then ask, will this be another adoption and forced Westernization of a developing country? What about relationships?

http://www.npr.org/blogs/money/2010/05/mangoes_poverty_and_haiti.html

Anthem of Hope

What particulars about a series of circumstances evokes emotion?

For example: Someone spills coffee on your purse at church, ironically on the day you wondered, as you carried your own coffee into the sanctuary, how often coffee is spilled inside? If said person, obviously in the row behind you, had bent forward to tap you on the shoulder an apologize for the spilled java, all would be well. However, to simply let you grab the soaked handle of your tote at the service's end only to rapidly release said handle, smell your hand, and wrinkle your nose in disgust...well, that is simply unchristian! Okay, so perhaps I'm overreacting, but still! A decent person, especially in church, would have apologized. Could I throw the offender a bone? Sure. Maybe s/he didn't know about the spilled beverage...still though...that would mean that the person doesn't pick up after him/herself and/or is environmentally slovenly. So...

Yet, perhaps this is too judgmental for a Sunday afternoon?

Other emotions: why does a song have the power to inspire hope? I have had some incredibly powerful, endorphine charged, and uplifting runs lately: listening to the harmony of my breath, birds, bugs, wind (the music of the night, if you will), directed under the light of a harvest moon, set to the tempo of my pace as my feet strike the path. Also I have listened to songs that tell me "Give me your eyes, I will change what you see...but your soul you must keep totally free..."

Well, I am free, that is for certain. And what a glorious feeling it is to be free in spirit and soul; especially as an introspective, independent woman. Yet, if it is such a delight, why then do I have moments of deep longing and thoughts of regret?

What is it that I miss? Knowing that I have been loved for me? The depth and breadth of conversation? Touch? Or, could it simply be, that I am mourning the loss of a dearest friend? I think that is it. To have such open and honest dialogue with someone for years only to have that flow abruptly stop. It is jarring.

And so, a new journey. Objective: To write my anthem of hope. With so many opportunities around for inspiration (lyrics, melodies, memories, the beauty of the season and the people I see everyday) how can one stay in mourning? I will persevere with head held high

A taste of inspiration:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KkUeRPjc-Y