a pause.
a silence.
a stillness.
after weeks of running and running and not stopping.
i needed the pause.
the silence.
the stillness.
this past week, on my way to a session with a client, i stopped at a store to buy myself a coconut water. the lady standing in line behind me at the cash register, seeing how in a hurry i was, said, please. take your time. i'm not in a rush. and i smiled at her and said, thank you, but i am. and she said, are you on your way to work? and, what do you do?, she asked, before i had a chance to answer her first question. and i told her, i'm a counselor.
and yes, i am.
but sometimes i feel like i'm a ghost. skimming the air as an elaboration of air. as wind. as storm. as vagabond spirit. but, where is my body? left behind. somewhere. trying to recuperate from too much too much too much. or is it my spirit that's left behind while my body glides from here to there, doing 
task 1, 
task 2, 
task 3, 
task 4? 
but not being.
and so. 
a pause.
a silence.
a stillness.
a reintegration of me with me.
before tomorrow arrives again.
and again.
and again.



at the yawning hour of dawn
i saw a massive oak
her bark hardened and petrified
her womb twisted in a smiling agony

i leaned in so close
i felt her take me

and we sat together
she and i

and she said,
you are not afraid of me

and i smiled
to cover the tremor
jackhammering my throat

and i said,
let us just sit together
my shadow breathing yours
your shadow breathing mine
like the mirror of water and sky

i have tales to tell, tree
if you care to listen



there comes a time when one must say 'no.' so much easier to imagine… so much easier to envision… than to do.

why must i add, 'because i can’t,' or, 'because i won’t,' after announcing my refusal? why must i explain myself? why must i feel any degree of obligation?

let 'no' be 'no.' let it suffice or else it will be 'no' without utterance, but still 'no' in practice… in reality.

so much easier to imagine than to do, really.

and yet, yesterday, i imagined. and today, i did.

i said 'no.'

and i will not undo this doing. it is undoable, anyway… now that it has already been done.



we sat by the pool, she and i.
we talked about love. and grief.

she said,
i wanted to get a grip on myself,
on my present.
i wanted to understand why.

i said,
you were seeking the wholeness
that you had lost.

she said,
she forced my past into my present.

she paused.
do you believe in the power of the past?

i said,
i believe in the power of all of who i am.
i do not alienate.

but i lied.

sometimes i do alienate, marginalize, excommunicate, leaving gaping holes where flesh and blood should be. and those holes whistle and rage like angry spirits. they fly in the face of the most violent storms. but when the light of a new day rises, they calm… and feed… and plump with grace.



another mindful serendipity...

honey trickles 
from padded fingertips
to craving lips

(now a little sticky
now a little sweet)

inside the impossible stillness
of an enchanted memory



she said,
i live in the past,
as if i had no present.

i said,
you are living a timelessness,
a loss of time.

she said,
what must i do
to change this?

i said,
you must come into
the here-and-now.

she said,
you are asking me to jump in at the deep end,
when you know i can’t swim.

i said,
though i know you think you can’t,
i know you can.

she said,
if i jump in and struggle,
will you save me?

i said,
i am not your savior,
i am your friend.

she said,
but what of those sea monsters
who might swallow me whole?

i said,
those raging beasts
are shadows of you.