We Still Need Poetry, not Poetry Thursday

Faith
~Arthur Caswell Parker

There is a faith that weakly dies
When overcast by clouds of doubt,
That like a blazing wisp of straw
A vagrant breeze will flicker out.


Be mine the faith whose living flame
Shall pierce the clouds and banish night,
Whose glow the hurricanes increase
To match the gleams of heaven’s night.


This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on November 30, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.

Happy Birthday, Dr. King

My thoughts move to Dr. King all year, and especially this past year. I have wondered so many times how he might have taught in the time of Trump.

We think of Dr. King as a leader, often, and as a pastor, for those who are more religious. But, I think of him as an organizer and a teacher.

So, for his *real* birthday, I decided to read a sermon that he gave, something new to me.

I chose the sermon about The Man Who Was a Fool.

He describes the issue the foolish man encounters, and how we are in danger of falling into the same trap in this way:

We must always be careful in America because we live in a capitalistic economy, which stresses the profit motive and free enterprise. And there is always the danger that we will be more concerned about making a living than making a life. There is always the danger we will judge the success of our professions by the size of the wheel base on our automobiles and the index of our salaries rather than the quality of our service to humanity. There must always be a line of distinction between the "within" and the "without" of life. [here, Dr. King footnotes The Parables of Jesus, Buttrick].

Dr. King's analyzes of the use of "I" and "my" by the rich man, and ties it back to our need to be more cognizant of our connections to the rest of the world/humanity rather than our own perceived self-sufficiency:

[The Foolish Man] failed to realize the interdependent structure of reality. 

And so often we fail to see this. Something should remind us before we can finish eating breakfast in the morning we are dependent on more than half of teh world. We get up in the morning and go to the bathroom and reach over for a sponge, and that's handed to us by a Pacific Islander. Then we reach over for a bar of soap, and that's given to us at the hands of a frenchman. And then we reach up for our towel, and that's given to us by a Turk. And then we go to the kitchen for breakfast, getting ready to go to work. Maybe this morning we want to follow the good old American tradition, and we drink coffee. That's poured into our cups by a South American. Or maybe we are desirous of having tea. Then we discover that that's poured in our cup by a Chinese. Or maybe we want cocoa this morning, and then we discover that that's poured in our cup by a West African. Then we reach over for piece of toast, only to discover that that's given to us at the hands of an English-speaking farmer, not to mention teh baker. And so before we finish eating breakfast in the morning, we are dependent on more than half of the world. [a footnote lets us know that this section is paraphrased from Leslie Whitehead's 1936 publication titled Why Do Men Suffer?]

Surely Dr. King would update these observations, our world is ever more interconnected and dependent within and without our national boundaries. We do less and less for ourselves in this world, and mostly have no idea how what we have in our hands had gotten there.

But, perhaps most important in this sermon is how Dr. King connects this issue to race relations in 1961:

For what is white supremacy but the foolish notion that God made a mistake and stamped an eternal stigma of inferiority on a certain race of people? What is white supremacy but the foolishness of believing that one race is good enough to dominate another race? What is white supremacy but the foolish notion of believing that certain people are to be relegated to the status of things rather than being elevated to the status of persons? There is no greater foolishness than the foolishness that accompanies our inhumanity to man.

Lest you think Dr. King was not considering all angles of this situation, see what he said immediately after the last statement:

And the converse is also true. Black supremacy is based on a great deal of foolishness. It is the foolish notion that the black man has made all of the contributions of civilization and that he will one day rule the world. I am convinced, as I have said so often, that as Negroes we must work passionately and unrelentingly for first-class citizenship, but we must never use second-class methods to gain it. We must not seek to rise from a position of disadvantage to one of advantage, thus subverting justice. Not substituting one tyranny for another, but we must seek to achieve democracy for everybody. God is not interested merely in the freedom of black men and brown men and yellow men, God is interested in the freedom of the whole human race and the creation of a society where all men will live together as brothers and every man will respect the dignity and the worth of human personality. Whenever we fail to believe this, we indulge in tragic foolishness.**

He goes on to talk about our abundance and how we might help others around the world... but I will let you read on. It is beautiful and it very well might have made me more religious if the priests in the pulpit were preaching this kind of truth. *Might* because I have other unresolved issues with organized religion, but I digress.

You can read the whole sermon here. You can search for other things to read here. [Yes, they are published in volumes, but if you click through to the volume, you can also see the PDF to many of the documents.]

**And, yes, we would hope that Dr. King's use of "men" here would have been supplanted with "humans" or "people," but I have faith in Dr. King's sense of humanity.

Equanimity Practice or Practice Pleasant/Neutral

I am not completely sure that these titles are equivalent or just both apt.

Here is my equanimity practice... the one I reach for most often:
No matter how much I wish things be otherwise, things are as they are.

My practice pleasant or neutral practice: for me, it started as #findbeauty on instagram.  And it morphed into being able to walk in quiet, listening to everything that is going on around me.

It means I can hear the birds singing or the bugs buzzing.

On Sunday, it meant watching the busy bees go from flower to flower checking for nectar.  And it meant watching Raleigh (neighbor tuxedo cat) as he stalked and tried to pounce on something and then celebrating his chase with him.

I was sitting on the stairs, listening to the birds, enjoying the sunny day from a shady spot somewhat out of view.  Raleigh happened by, when I spoke to him, he started, but then went back to stalking.  When he was out of view, I decided to follow him.  I crouched with him, slowly and quietly padding behind him, letting him know that I was there so he wouldn't start.  He was watching, carefully... mindfully something in the bushes. I couldn't see it.  He was still as a statue, intent on his prey.  I was talking quietly to him, encouraging him to go ahead and pounce.  He did, and didn't catch anything, but came over to celebrate with me anyway.  He brushed up against my legs and looked up at me for encouragement. I pet him and chatted him up.  Then he went back to the bushes to look for his prey again.

In the moment, there is tremendous activity... and it can be pleasant, or neutral or unpleasant. Raleigh's insistence on being in the moment was a gift... pleasant, unpleasant or neutral, it didn't matter to him, just the moment.

For me, forcing myself to stay in the moment is the gift.  I have been wound so tight the past few months, and let's be honest, the last four years, that I have given myself precious little room to be in the moment or otherwise.

I am trying to unwind in a way that won't leave me in a puddle in the middle of the floor when next Friday hits and my schedule becomes a little lighter.

Wish me luck.

break down, break through, writing break

It goes in cycles for me ... that is the world feels like it is beginning to cave in, but I don't notice it until I am feeling consumed by the darkness.  When I look back, I see the signs that I ignored, mostly in my own behavior.  Short tempered, touchy, overly sensitive.  These are the not generous descriptions.  There are equally not generous descriptions of those who I feel put upon by. 

Ultimately, though, I know that these are just the symptoms of my boundaries collapsing, and the first casualty is always myself. 

I have been super careful with my workouts and even meditation.  Even on the days when I haven't made it to weekly meditation, I am still finding time to be mindful, even if it is just a few minutes. I have tried to incorporate at least my metta practice into my walking.  I use these mantras to counter the obsession and ridiculousness when I feel it rise in my chest.

It is helpful ... but it doesn't take the place of a more holistic self care that includes getting work done for myself.

My little breakdown a few weeks ago that led to my little breakthrough (and shift in my attitude and perspective -- for the better!) seems to have shortened the amount of time I can go before I FEEL the boundaries dangerously melting away.

It's a good thing -- better to feel it sooner than wait for the complete meltdown.  Like the toddler kicking and screaming, tears streaming down his face, on the floor, my meltdowns leave me feeling utterly helpless, vulnerable and like there is no way out.  It is never pretty to get there.

So, after all the good work I did when I debriefed the last breakdown, I am moving forward.  This afternoon I will retreat from my parents' home to a friend's house for some writing.  My plan is to write long hours the first five days before I have to add back in work for money, but then to continue writing for at least half days for another week or more. 

I have to make progress on these papers -- and my PhD program -- or decide that it is really not the right thing for me.

I decided it was better to really give myself the space, emotionally and physically, to try rather than to just throw in the towel.  If at the end of my writing retreat I am still inclined to quit, then, at least, it will be because I have made that decision.  I am trying to remove any possibility of resentment - perhaps an even more useless emotion than regret or guilt.

Searching for word of the year, finding beauty

Made as large as possible here to give you the best sense of the beauty.

As I waited, characteristically impatiently, at a light the other day, this was the sight out of my window.  When I see clouds like this, I do miss New Mexico.  I recall the long drives to Gallup and the reflection of gorgeous clouds seemingly imprinted onto my car as I peeked out the side and rear view mirrors.

I have always been fascinated by clouds ... the shapes, the way the wind moves and changes them, the way they give in to those inevitable changes with such grace and ease, making something new and beautiful instead of balking at change. 

It seems like flawless beauty, perfection created from air swishing around... with no one controlling or directing or criticizing. 

It feels like the essence of ALLOWING, no boundaries or barriers, no excuses or defenses, no regret and no planning.  It is being in the present moment. 

And appreciating the moment and the next and the next is the goal of the meditation training. Cloud gazing, like wave watching the other, is a pretty beautiful way to meditate.

I have been searching for my word of the year for a bit ... and this one, allowing, is the only one that has felt moderately comfortable and genuine.  It's not flashy.   Maybe there is some other word out there.  I don't know.

In some way, it feels like a continuation of other words.  But it feels bigger than just opening or practicing being vulnerable. It sounds like inviting the world to just to its thing; makes me feel a little like I am willing to give up some control... wouldn't that be amazing?!

Here is the whole photo since I don't think the above will show it all.

low tide treasures

I have lived near the ocean most of my life ... with the exception of my time in New Jersey and New Mexico... and though I know in my head about high tide and low tide, I never really paid attention to it.

 

So, whenever I show up at the beach for my walk, I just get whatever tide happens to be hanging around ... high or low. 

Even though high tide usually means having to walk on the sand you sink into -- making my legs feel like walking hills in Oakland was too easy -- I still don't *search out* the low tide.

But low tides are awesome ... besides being able to walk on compacted sand or squishy sand, there are these tide pool treasures.  Since I have been plotting running on the beach, I might have to start looking at tide charts.  It will be a shame to not *happen* upon low tides like this.

These are few pictures I took last Friday when I showed up for my walk to the absolute best low tide ever.

I have been collecting sea glass and rocks, and I felt like I had hit the mother lode ... so many places with beautiful rocks, glimmering sea glass (I got four colors!) and shiny shells and shell pieces.

I am trying to take full advantage of being in beautiful coastal Southern California.

Oh, and I got some meditating in, too, believe it or not.

pier walking etc.

To celebrate my mother's birthday, I took her and my dad to brunch... (and my niece joined and bought my birthday brunch).  I took them to a lovely restaurant that is inside of a historic building in downtown Ventura.   We all remembered the building as a bank (mom and dad remembered the later incarnations of jewelry and women's clothing store), but it turns out it was built in 1927 - designed by the same architects that designed Griffith Observatory - as the power company's headquarters.

It has gorgeous carved wood beams, original murals painted by Norman Kennedy, and beautiful tiling.  Painstakingly restored and with lovely chandeliers and other light fixtures, the old bank vault was turned into a liquor/wine vault.  We sat in a big booth by the windows and toasted to my mother's birthday.

I intended to work at the library afterwards, but it turned out that it doesn't open til 1pm on Sunday.  I have said several times aloud that I have never been to the pier in Ventura or the promenade (where parts of Little Miss Sunshine were filmed), I realized I was so close I could make it a double:  go to a new place and get my last two miles in for the week.  So, I took a walk down to the pier while I waited for the library to open.

It was an easy and lovely walk ... but not nearly as meditative as walking on the sand near the waves.  On the pier, bustling with walkers, gazers, fisherpeople and birds, you can barely hear the ocean.

I made a quick stop in the bathroom at the end of the pier where someone, a woman from her voice, was giving a rousing talk in one of the stalls.  It included rhetorical flourishes, facts and figures "without the internet", and call and response.  You could tell there were responses in her head as she took them and waited for the silent response to be stated.

Down the pier, I asked about how the fishing was going, watched two ladies make friends with the seagulls by throwing bread crumbs, and witnessed a young boy tentatively chase the birds from the pier.

Needless to say, lovely and entertaining, but hard to quiet the mind.

Scenes from my walking meditation

This is where I have been ... keeping to my two miles per day even if I don't actually get the two on one day ... been more like several 3 mile days and some 2 mile days and other 1 mile days.

The bottoms of my feet hurt from the barefoot beach and pavement walking.  My hips are screaming for some yoga.  The dog walking has put me in some life threatening (hers, not mine) situations.

But, the walking is good.  It really gives me the space I need to let go of planning, thinking, and worrying.  The subconscious processing gets to bubble up as I try to remember to repeat my mantras.

I get to notice the world around me.  The rollercoaster may not stop, but the ferris wheel slows down enough to see that is usually a blur outside the car window.

Abundance and 12-13-14, long and winding

 It is remarkable the incredible abundance we live in yet feel we are in constant scarcity.

Scarcity was on my nephew's "spelling" list this week -- I hope it was really called a vocabulary list, but I am not sure if it was.  He had an assignment but had not brought the list with the definitions.  So, I was making up sentences for him with each word, reaching for other vocabulary that would give them the right context clues.

I noted that abundance was not on his list ... we are quick to teach scarcity, but seldom remember to demonstrate it through its opposite.

-----------

Yesterday I was malenting quietly to myself while I was not writing my paper, and my phone rang.

A good friend is in terrible straits due to a break up -- one of those long, tortuous goodbyes, or maybe nots.  There are too many ugly twists and turns, but the most important piece is that it is all a horrible playing out of insecurities. 

This screams scarcity/abundance to me.

There is love (and longing) all around us ... so many people looking for love (abundance).  Unfortunately we mix up looking for love with looking for a missing piece, affirmation and validation (scarcity).

We are walking past each other with lists of qualities and characteristics and looks that are "acceptable" or "required" -- and we don't see the abundance of love seeking maybe because of our own yearning.  I don't know... and then when we get close, we muddle, obfuscate and accuse.

Are we too scared to be vulnerable or afraid to fully surrender to another?

Are we just looking for others to do something for us that we are unwilling to do for ourselves?

The other half of the couple is not supposed to make you better, lovable, or redeemable.  Love doesn't fix you or anyone else.

And true love only comes through self love and compassion.

These are truths I believe ... even though I am uncoupled.  Perhaps you could say that I have endured enough bad coupling to understand and feel (viscerally) that these statements are true.

I want to believe in love ... true love ... and in healthy couples.

Watching people tear each other (and themselves) down makes my eye twitch; but when it is someone that I love, then it makes me crazy.  As in, I want to go over there and punch him. 

Ok, really, I just want to sit him down and make him see that this is just insecurity, fear of surrender.  I just want to tell him that it is alright to be vulnerable.

I want to tell him that nothing is promised ... nothing... but that doesn't mean we should not give of ourselves with abandon.

I want to remind him about abundance... to open his eyes to it and to turn his eyes from our unfounded fears of scarcity.

There is enough love ... but we have to start with ourselves.  We have to believe in our intrinsic value -- we are enough, we are lovable, we don't need to be redeemed, validated or affirmed.  We are enough in our imperfection.  We are just right ... right now, and we might be better tomorrow, or worse, and even then we will be just right.

I am rambling, so it is a good thing that I am not going over there to tell him (I have never met him and he is another state, so it is not even a remote possibility) nothing (nuffin as my niece would say and she would mean it, too).

Really, though, it reminds me about abundance.

This provides me with perspective I have been sorely missing for several days.
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Today is 12-13-14... an auspicious day.  It is the end of the sequence for these years... the last of the magical numbers for awhile (the next sequence magic will come in twenty years 1-2-34).

I set a reminder for myself -- so that I could remember to think about how I could "celebrate" this special day.

I am not going to buy a lottery ticket, though I wouldn't mind winning the lottery ... and I hear you can't win if you don't play.

I thought long and hard ... a nice dinner, a day off, a walk on the beach ... all good ideas.

I decided as I struggled getting dressed (a sure sign of feeling depressed for me) that what I really need is to recommit to myself ... my meditation, my metta exercise, my belief in abundance.

Sometimes this meditation stuff kicks me in the ass really hard and it feels like a not so friendly best friend.

And sometimes, it provides just the right jump start to remember to breathe in and out... to focus on that which I can count on ... breathing in and out... and to let the other stuff pass, in its own time, in its own way. 

So...


May I acknowledge abundance.
May I allow love to flow to and from me.
May I embrace my gifts and talents.
May I feel beautiful and strong.

May I see myself with love and compassion.
May I love myself in failure and in triumph.
May I express my tender, whimsical self.
May I open to all the love around me.

These are my wishes for all beings ... but I need to start with me.
May I forgive myself when I forget ... may I remember.

Blessings to all on this very special day.

after the snark...

Alaska 2008

...may we all be at peace.

I am working on judgement. 

After yesterday's post, you might not believe it.  Sometimes you just have to get it out so that it doesn't cause you more pain.

It is not realistic to hope for a life without judgement.  We judge, assess, measure, attach meaning all the time, about everything.  Honestly, we couldn't make calculated moves if we didn't -- or move at all, in some cases.  Is that car too close, is it far enough away for me to change lanes?

You get the picture.

But there are other judgements -- you know the ones.

They are assessments but they signal more about how we feel about ourselves than they do about what move to make next.

Since I moved home, the judgement voice has been getting louder, and more shrill.  She is defensive beyond belief.  And I know it is because I feel judged, all the time.  So, I am trying to hear the judgement and recognize the plea with in it.  I try to apply compassion to that crying soul inside myself ... sometimes I succeed and sometimes I just hear more judgements -- this time of myself.

I bring this up now, the day after the snark, not because I had some wonderful, life changing revelation -- no, but I did feel guilty the whole time the snarkiness was oozing out of my fingertips.

I opened this piece on sympathetic joy by Andrea, aka one of my favorite people, and I wanted to share it because it did touch a nerve in me.

I want to release my judgement because I want to feel better about me ... reveling in others' success and happiness might be one way to do it.

I am going to resolve, here and now, to do my special metta mantras every morning as a way to start the day in compassion and love rather than in judgement.

Here they are in "I" form -- always start with myself as I widen my circle out to the world:

May I acknowledge abundance
May I allow love to flow to and from me
May I embrace my gifts and talents
May I feel beautiful and strong

May I see myself with love and compassion
May I love myself in failure and triumph
May I express my tender, whimsical self
May I open to all the love around me

Poetry Thursday, sort of...

When I fell off the blogging wagon, what I missed the most was looking for quotes and poems to post.

It takes a lot of emotional energy (though I know it adds back in a large portion, too) to contemplate all the ideas in the quotes, so, you know...

I am not there yet... but I am getting closer.

This week, I am going to share what Andrea shared.  It is perfect and matches the peaceful feeling I am hoping lasts from the last meditation session.

I am actually hoping that I will begin, *SOON*, a daily meditation practice. It may be the only way I make it through this move alive.

Poetry Thursday, more gratitude

No kind action ever stops with itself.

One kind action leads to another.

...

A single act of kindness

throws out roots in all directions,

and the roots spring up

and make new trees.

The greatest work that 

kindness does to other is

that it makes them kind themselves.

-Amelia Earhart

Quote Thursday

Bosque Trail, June 2013

What happened yesterday is history. 

What happens tomorrow is a mystery. 

What we do today makes a difference 

- the precious present moment. 

~ Nick Saban

Sunset from my porch, June 2013