06302013

she said,

you know how you always remind me

to write down all the things

for which i am grateful?

i nodded.

she said,

lately, i’ve been feeling

an overwhelming ingratitude.

i said,

one more thing for which to be grateful.

even ingratitude is feeling… and being…

and awareness… and nowness.

06272013

last night

as i moved my body

with mindful presence

it was my feet that screamed

the loudest, crying, “set me free!”

but, then… how easily

we think we can modify history!

06162013

how leisurely the rush of words, this morning! a liberation… like looking out of a window and recognizing that, outside of me, there is another dimension, one that becomes integrated into who i am just as soon as i’ve acknowledged its presence. just so are the words, and the emotions that gave them birth.

but, no! this is not about emotion. this is about something much more primordial than that. this is about… sensation…

.

sensation

.

sensation

.

sensation

.

i feel the symphony of that word.

i let it swim inside my mouth… embrace the rims of my tonsils… tease the tip of my tongue.

i allow.

i live.

i am.

06082013

yesterday...
driving in a full-blown storm
blinded by silver sheets on the windshield

i navigated, as though the road 
were made of silkworms, working
their magic beneath the falling sky

i did not only hear
but listened
with presence

to voice and strings alchemize
and fly, with intention,
and strike, with precision, their target

06052013

she said,

sometimes, i feel the need

to medicate myself.

i said,

what does self-medicating

do for you?

she said,

i guess it makes me feel

like myself again.

she paused.

or maybe it makes me feel numb,

like there is no self at all.

she looked at me.

now that i’ve heard myself say it,

that truth makes me shudder.

what do you think i should do?

i said,

don’t medicate your self.

meditate her.