Tape rollers and swiffers

I’m obsessed with tape rollers…and swiffers. This one got me thinking–

We walk around covered in the
world’s filth and don’t even know it.
We inherit
generations of ancestral addiction and trauma
and think
it’s our personal
failing. The words of hatred, denial, self-preservation
greed, and gossip swirl into the air
in search of a landing place….you, your ready mind.

We think our nasty little thoughts cursing those who’ve hurt us. We experience road rage. And of course millions take out their unprocessed anger and grief on their innocent animals and children eah day. We don’t understand energy and it’s mission.

And so we by the millions, sit in shame and don’t know what’s wrong with us. Mental health, chronic pain, suicide all on the rise and we are at a loss for how to move, how to deal with our pain.

Most people inside a bubble of aloneness, disconnected from community– a real place to regularly be seen and heard, to be challenged!

And so if we do not shake the dust off LITERALLY, we will live from our unconscious dirty little self. Our sin will devour us.

Our blame game will pre-occupy our minds and we will wonder why despair is causing us to self-destruct.

Watch your thoughts they become beliefs which become actions…if we do not find a daily practice of discovering the New Earth, we will live by the world’s domination system and call it normal. We will be slaves to a system of division and consumption, disconnection and personal agenda.

The Truth shall set us free– we are ONE humanity united under the unseen Father mystery, the manifest Mother who’s beauty abounds, who’s creative force compels us to choose better.

Choose life, choose to find your clean heart, your mind of Christ.

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Burden

You are not a burden

not your morning stiffness

nor your chronic ache

You cannot make me despise you any longer

skip the gym

forget the yoga

eat the cake

You cannot go your own way now

…..because

You are not a burden

I’ve claimed you as my own

no matter your intensity

nor your tendency

to bemoan

just breathe my friend

can you see

we are

not at odds

invite in some more breath

it’s the essence

of the gods

I know

I have not acted

like much of a friend to you

to one with so much need

so much pain

here’s your due

breathe in ease

breathe out dis-ease

Is it really so simple?

I have no answers

if you please

Only attention

And care

simply aware

of the many ways I tried to shame

and blame

when you were always there

carrying the entirety of life’s burdens

but to me?

one born of ignorance

one born of fear

You are not a burden

You are ever so dear

You

are my very same self in form

that I did not recognize

your substance as

so very

very good

said the

mind to the body

One Lone Picture, One Lone Child

As often as I could, I’d sneak in to my mother’s room to study the framed black and white photo of her wedding day.  I was 8 or 9 years old and I’d never met the man, my father, standing by her side with his shy smile and dapper Navy dress whites.  I googled it just now and the hot tears instantaneously wet my face.  Isn’t that strange, since, as fate would have it, that man is unrelated to me.

We are told stories of who we are, who’s we are. There isn’t much more impactful than immediate family and ancestry to a child’s growing identity.

-I’m German

-I’m an only child

-My parents split up right after I was born and I’ve never met my Father

-My Oma, right off the boat, helped raise me. We shared a bedroom for 9 years, like sisters

-I am book smart, earning almost all A’s straight through college

-I”m the first in my family to attend, then graduate

-First half of life people really liked me, I resonate with the stuff of the world

-Second half of life I need to deconstruct everything I thought I knew and suddenly those same people and I have little in common

Except so much of this is not the truth after all. I actually have 3 half-brothers and was fathered by a Philadelphia fireman not a Navy man. I’m not German either

The man in the picture was Mom’s loving husband but not my father.  For 50 years I’d never called a man Dad, or daddy. I’m not sure when I realized that this was impacting my ability to see God as Father.

Reading Inheritance last month by Dani Shapiro has millions talking about their own paternity stories. Did you hear the one about the man who’d donated sperm every week during med school and now has at least 50 children discovering eachother as half-siblings on ancestry.com?

I have a wound that resonates with other’s who’ve been put in foster care, adopted out, or raised by a single parent. Lately I’ve noticed my body responds instantly to children in those circumstances. Maybe they’ve never said the word daddy. Maybe that is the word which carved the wound, which allows the light to get in. 

I pray every day for a sister. And I sent my vial of warm spittle to 23andMe last year.

When I was little, something in me— or maybe someOne— yearned for a sister so much so, that whenever I watched the Parent Trap, I’d tell myself “That’s going to happen for me. I’m going to meet my long lost sister one day”.

I still believe that the story Mom told about how my Father got another local woman pregnant that year will result in us finding each other…and soon. I like to write those words down, even reading them aloud, then put them out into the world, believing that will manifest her into my reality. A woman, my age, to connect with on a deep level. In second half of life; before it’s too late.

The house behind us went up for sale a few months ago and I began imagining that the people who bought it would be about our age and the wife would become my new best friend. Last week the couple moved in and I went over with brownies. The man was so nice, showing me the renovations. His partner had not moved in yet. My dream momentarily dashed.

I’ve met my birth father- three and a half years ago. I bravely drove 3 hours and knocked on his front door. But that’s a story for another day.

He and I talk on the phone a couple of times a year. Last week I called him, my bio-dad, to wish him a happy 79th birthday. He asked me about my book then said, “Maybe it will make the NY Times bestseller list.”  

Maybe my sister will read it and realize we belong to each other. Each time I type that word, ‘each other’, I don’t put a space and autocorrect lights it up as wrong. I don’t care any more, we belong to eachother…side by side before it’s too late. Second half of life thinking will change our view of who we are, who’s we are.

From my bio-dad’s mouth to God’s ears.

A new Song

I’m a middle-aged white woman who decided it would be fun to ride my bike from our home to our church on a gorgeous spring morning to clean.  While I pedaled I began to sing made up lyrics and using my vocal instrument to sound out different tones and notes. This is really new for me!  I have believed the story that I have a horrid singing voice my entire life. Maybe you have a story you believe too and are coming to wonder how true it is.

I came across a few men with brown and black sking and they were very friendly in waving my way. I suddenly had a wave of shame wash over me. I was recalling a day when I was in my front yard in our primarily white neighborhood, maybe 10 years ago and a man of color was biking by in the middle of the day. And what did I think?

  • Why aren’t you at work?
  • Why are you here where you don’t belong?
  • Are you up to no good?

The reason I want to admit my thoughts is because we are all ignorant to so much of life and how our thoughts do not define who we are. We do not have the full light of awareness of God. We have been influenced and conditioned by society and its fears.  After 14 years of yoga and meditation I have come to make much of my subconscious conscious..bringing the dark into the light. It is the only way to grow and speak and act from love, from connection, from wisdom.

I hope you won’t judge me too harshly. I hope you’ll take an opportunity to contemplate the ways you have grown and realized something you once believed to be true is no longer true and you are actually a bit mortified. This is good!! This is what the world needs…for us to humbly admit our wrong-thinking without a whole lot of shame, moving from a moment of regret to surrending it to God.

I want to move and think and breathe and act the way love feels. I dont want to move and think and breathe  the way fear feels…we can only do this when we are honest about our having been conditioned, especially by prejudice in our own families. We can only ‘hear’ our own thinking with practices of mindfulness– or else we just go on believing our negative thoughts instead of realizing not every thought is rooted in truth. Most are not!

I like singing a new song. My song is one of hope that we can all grow and find our inner safety and not project our anxieties onto an innocent world.  Peace can be cultivated within but it takes practice and commitment to let go.

Holy Water Tears

stretched wide across the chest

I send a deep breath beyond what’s pulled taut

into my low belly

where the ache lives (haunts)

much later, in stillness

the pictures flash across my mind

you and me

twinning

sisters, they’d say

whenever love’s torn in 2

the breach is gonna sear

So

I hand Her what feels burnt to a crisp

commanding SHE bring me closer to HER inferno

yes closer…I will not run

Just Dont allow my tears to put out

Love’s fire

Keep me blazing

with you

Burn down my resistance

to more LIGHT

I am an Animal

Let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Mary Oliver

Our President made a comment this week about some violent gang members but I only see it as the perfect opportunity to take back the term. We’ve moved so far away from our instinctual nature, that we no longer trust ourselves, our intuitive knowing. We’ve masked our needs and drowned our desires with food, alcohol and every other form of numbing. We need only to feel again what it means to be fully human.

Our howls for the pain of the world will release our stuck pain. Our growls for all the suffering will push aside the evil impulse to cause more pain.

We are animals- every one of us trying to hide what brings us shame. The lust, the gluttony, the need to feel safe so we attempt to surround ourselves with all the trappings of ‘things’.  It doesnt work. We are not safe.

Best to be wild. Be free. Be bold. Speak truth. Love will emerge…its covered over in fear of being seen fully.

How will you embrace your animal nature-

  • yoga postures, breathing consciously?
  • Lots of making love with self or partner– sounds escaping body, seratonin boost?
  • Walking in nature, hugging the trees, gazing at the sky?
  • Lying on Mama EARTH allowing Her to embrace you fully, your tears watering her spring growth.
  • Making art or music?

Dance…for sure the easiest thing to do right this moment is to dance even as the world spins off of its axis, crazy with judgment, insane with separation anxiety.  YOu are a thread in the fabric of the universe–

You are one of the sun’s rays my love.

Freedom is Not Free

resist the urge to scream

So. hard. to. be. thankful. for. these. dark. days

telling all

in confident terms

all is well

freedom’s at hand!

back inside

there’s no escape

a vice-like grip

on heart and mind

soul, like a specter

slipping through

bony, superhuman restraint

resist

resist the urge

resist the urge to scream

focus on blue sky

thy kingdom come…

in the luminous darkness

i remain